She picked up momentum and body checked me with all her weight as we were coming around the corner. I wasn't low enough, heard her kind of growl, my breath exit me with me with an "ogghhhh" and somehow I ended up backwards with an excellent view of everyone's skates and a few fishnetted legs coming at me. "Ooooo look at that girl's sweet toe guards, wow, this floor is very shiny, keep your hands in fists so nobody runs over your fingers, thank goodness I wore the padded shorts tonight, and oh wow I'm going over backwards now" are the things that rushed through my head in the 2-3 seconds I had to get up as I executed some type of crazy backwards ninja roll, got up on my toe stops, and sprinted off to try and catch up with the pack.
May 19 was my first bout. And it was extraordinary. I relished every moment of it. I am head over heels (literally) in love. Can't wait for this Sunday, when we get to go again. From the warm up to the afterparty, one of the best nights of my life, full of moments that will forever make me smile. These women are amazing, they and these experiences enrich my life in multitudes of ways.
Speaking of in love, I sold my bike and a ton of baby stuff and got new skates and wheels. My starter skates were a bit too large and on top of that they had stretched out so much that each time I picked my leg up to cross over I could feel them drop slightly off my foot and my toes shift side to side as well as forward and back inside the boot. It was really awful, and beginning to cause me significant back and leg pain. I sold them as well and am now in a ridiculously amorous, borderline fetishistic relationship with my new ones and my new wheels. Alan just laughs (perhaps a bit uneasily) at me as I come home, clean my wheels and toast my new loves, sticking my nose deep into them, sniffing the soft leather, repeatedly proclaiming my love and fondling the sweet stripes on the sides. At some point I will probably grace you all with a ode or perhaps a love sonnet to my skates, so please stay tuned for that excitement.
I was lucky enough to have a few awesome pictures taken by our league photographer. I will cherish these as I do several taken when I was dancing in Pittsburgh and one of me bald in my gi, breaking a board with my hand in Washington Square park when we lived in New York and were studying karate. What's similar about all these prized photos is that I can remember those moments with absolute clarity, and looking at them allows me to relive some pretty powerful experiences.
It's my mindset in the shot on the right that I love. I know exactly when it was taken, what I was thinking. There were no second guesses, my usual string of worries and self flagellation were absent. I was uncharacteristically calm, completely in the moment. I was feeling my feet in my new skates, my sit bones on the chair, the huge industrial fan blowing on my back on that wickedly hot day, enjoying the movement of my breath, taking it all in, completely immersed in the moment. I wasn't dwelling on the past, attempting to plan the future. I was there, fully present in that chair, not even slightly worried about the kids. It was a moment solely for me. Alan printed this photo and it hangs on the wall over our kitchen table. I look at it daily, especially during the hectic times and remind myself that it's possible, I'm still capable of calm, focus and clarity in moments of chaos.
Speaking of hectic moments....
Perhaps it's an overshare, but if I am able to think about it objectively I feel this story is hilarious and pretty much too disgusting not to share.
Our latest endeavor is toilet training the boy. We have graduated him to awesome underwear (which is adorable and I am including photos) except during his nap and overnight. After about a day he pretty much got it down.
Today he decided it was imperative that he hold his full sippy cup and drink while he was peeing, so he could "watch the water drain out of him." Not yet having my second coffee and too exhausted to argue I stupidly agreed to this. He usually wants me to squat next to him and hold his hand when he's aiming. Moments later the cup drops into the toilet with a huge PLOP and I am the recipient of a face and shirt full of boy pee and toilet water. I'm fairly comfortable with playing the fool, so I feel inclined to also mention that my mouth was open, mid-sentence praising him for his achievements.
Bumbling. Confused. Slow witted. Lacking confidence and unable to make quick decisions. These are just a few ways I would describe my daytime persona. My main focus each day is to prevent the children from damaging themselves, defusing tantrums, deciphering what has caused them to inexplicably freak out and creating distractions to prevent it from happening again. The amount of brain power and energy this requires leaves little focus for much else.
By the time 5 PM rolls around and I'm on the way to pick up Alan I'm exhausted, in need of a glass of wine and ready to lay down. The days I have derby practice I often question where the heck I'm going to find the energy and mental clarity to go and participate. Although these thoughts flutter about like ominous, party pooping gargoyles in my completely hazy brain, I manage to gather and pack my gear with the boy sitting on the bed and meticulously, thoughtfully choosing my derby socks. I can honestly say once I am there and skating they vanish. Things become clearer. I find my breath, discover untapped energy.
Clarity of thought. Focus. Staying in the moment. The ability to begin again. These are things I've been studying a large portion of my life, with dance, Alexander Technique, karate, parenthood and now roller derby. The "beginner's mind" our karate sensei spoke about in depth and my Alexander training are are both so pertinent to learning derby. It's incredibly easy to get stuck on mistakes I've made in the last 2-minute jam or second guess parenting choices. This habit totally interferes with my ability to be fully available to respond to situations in the next moment and I realize it is present in most activities I am involved in.
One of the best parts of a scrimmage or bout is that every 2 minutes or every time we get up we are able to start over with a new jam, a different strategy. If we allow it, this game structure enables us to acknowledge (but not dwell on) what wasn't so great about the past one, build on what we did well, wipe the toilet water off our faces, and begin again.
May 19 was my first bout. And it was extraordinary. I relished every moment of it. I am head over heels (literally) in love. Can't wait for this Sunday, when we get to go again. From the warm up to the afterparty, one of the best nights of my life, full of moments that will forever make me smile. These women are amazing, they and these experiences enrich my life in multitudes of ways.
Speaking of in love, I sold my bike and a ton of baby stuff and got new skates and wheels. My starter skates were a bit too large and on top of that they had stretched out so much that each time I picked my leg up to cross over I could feel them drop slightly off my foot and my toes shift side to side as well as forward and back inside the boot. It was really awful, and beginning to cause me significant back and leg pain. I sold them as well and am now in a ridiculously amorous, borderline fetishistic relationship with my new ones and my new wheels. Alan just laughs (perhaps a bit uneasily) at me as I come home, clean my wheels and toast my new loves, sticking my nose deep into them, sniffing the soft leather, repeatedly proclaiming my love and fondling the sweet stripes on the sides. At some point I will probably grace you all with a ode or perhaps a love sonnet to my skates, so please stay tuned for that excitement.
I was lucky enough to have a few awesome pictures taken by our league photographer. I will cherish these as I do several taken when I was dancing in Pittsburgh and one of me bald in my gi, breaking a board with my hand in Washington Square park when we lived in New York and were studying karate. What's similar about all these prized photos is that I can remember those moments with absolute clarity, and looking at them allows me to relive some pretty powerful experiences. |
| photo by Laura Leonard Fitch |
Speaking of hectic moments....
Perhaps it's an overshare, but if I am able to think about it objectively I feel this story is hilarious and pretty much too disgusting not to share.
Our latest endeavor is toilet training the boy. We have graduated him to awesome underwear (which is adorable and I am including photos) except during his nap and overnight. After about a day he pretty much got it down.
Today he decided it was imperative that he hold his full sippy cup and drink while he was peeing, so he could "watch the water drain out of him." Not yet having my second coffee and too exhausted to argue I stupidly agreed to this. He usually wants me to squat next to him and hold his hand when he's aiming. Moments later the cup drops into the toilet with a huge PLOP and I am the recipient of a face and shirt full of boy pee and toilet water. I'm fairly comfortable with playing the fool, so I feel inclined to also mention that my mouth was open, mid-sentence praising him for his achievements. Bumbling. Confused. Slow witted. Lacking confidence and unable to make quick decisions. These are just a few ways I would describe my daytime persona. My main focus each day is to prevent the children from damaging themselves, defusing tantrums, deciphering what has caused them to inexplicably freak out and creating distractions to prevent it from happening again. The amount of brain power and energy this requires leaves little focus for much else.
By the time 5 PM rolls around and I'm on the way to pick up Alan I'm exhausted, in need of a glass of wine and ready to lay down. The days I have derby practice I often question where the heck I'm going to find the energy and mental clarity to go and participate. Although these thoughts flutter about like ominous, party pooping gargoyles in my completely hazy brain, I manage to gather and pack my gear with the boy sitting on the bed and meticulously, thoughtfully choosing my derby socks. I can honestly say once I am there and skating they vanish. Things become clearer. I find my breath, discover untapped energy.
Clarity of thought. Focus. Staying in the moment. The ability to begin again. These are things I've been studying a large portion of my life, with dance, Alexander Technique, karate, parenthood and now roller derby. The "beginner's mind" our karate sensei spoke about in depth and my Alexander training are are both so pertinent to learning derby. It's incredibly easy to get stuck on mistakes I've made in the last 2-minute jam or second guess parenting choices. This habit totally interferes with my ability to be fully available to respond to situations in the next moment and I realize it is present in most activities I am involved in.
One of the best parts of a scrimmage or bout is that every 2 minutes or every time we get up we are able to start over with a new jam, a different strategy. If we allow it, this game structure enables us to acknowledge (but not dwell on) what wasn't so great about the past one, build on what we did well, wipe the toilet water off our faces, and begin again.
Wonderful.
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