Acceptance.

Ugh.  You know.  My life hasn't been a fairytale. I was lucky enough to have a family.  I have sisters, I have brothers, I still have both my parents.  We had enough.  There was something lacking though.

My mom grew up in a household with more than twice as many kids.  She was the second oldest.  Perhaps this post will cause controversy, but for me, it is a post of coming to terms with how someone's upbringing can affect generations after.  It's how I see it and how it has affected me.  Perhaps not the whole story.  How could it be?  Past generations.. didn't talk about stuff as openly as we do now.

Anyway,  a lot of responsibility was placed on my mom's shoulders at a young age.  She had to help with raising the family (All the older kids did, I suppose).  I know from having a larger family that even if you have the tools to do that... it's rough.  I can't imagine being a teenager.  I was discussing this with a friend the other day... and she pointed out... "that's the age when you are mean".  She is right.  My mom used whatever tools she had in her arsenal at the time to help raise her siblings... and when she moved out and had a family... she used those same tools, even if they didn't work the best, to raise us.  It's what she knew.  She harbored feelings towards me that are confusing to me as an adult.... and as a child, ugh.  If the conflict for certain behaviors in myself now, is any indication of the child I was... I can say, I was headstrong.  I was argumentative.  I was challenging.  But I was also smart.  I was beautiful.  And I have always the strength of a survivor.  I am sure she saw it.  She was just broken.  I know this... because I am also broken. 

She longed for a relationship with her mom that she could never have.  My grandma just didn't treat my mom the way my mom needed.  I don't know why.  We weren't close to that grandma.  I do know that there was years my mom would work and make presents for my grandma...and my grandma just didn't appreciate the efforts.  She would think of my mom last.  One year, my mom just really wanted this angel ornament that my grandma (appeared) to make everyone else.  I was like 13.  I remember it because my mom came home crying.  She just wanted to be loved and appreciated.  I remember thinking, I wish I could hug her and give her what she needed.  But I couldn't fill that spot for her.  That longing for that relationship.  That was my mom's loss.  When I was 23, my grandma died, and maybe since my mom has come to terms with that.  I'm not sure.

I do know, that this type of stuff is what shapes you as an adult.  How to be mom.  How to be a friend.  How to be a grandparent. How to be a partner to a spouse.  If you don't get the tools from your parents... you get them from other places... or make them up.

I know my mom loves me.  But I longed for that same relationship with my mom, that my mom wanted from her mom.  I don't hope for it to happen anymore... that closeness.  But it has made me very frustrated when working on my relationship with my kids.

Loss just isn't having a person die.  Sometimes, it is loss of a dream.  Or a relationship.  Grief works the same way.  And at some point you realize... it is what it is.  And you can either accept it and move past it... or you can continue to live your life there.  It doesn't mean that some days, your heart doesn't go there... it just means that more often than not, you see the gifts.  The things you do have.  The people that love you.  You have that.

Maybe this post makes no sense.  It's just my stuff in my head that holds me back.  That keeps me from being the mom I want.  The friend I want.  The person I want.  It's not an excuse.  It's the voice in my head, the hesitation to give it all.  Every time I get up and do what I want or need to anyway... I win.

XOXO
Anja

Athlete? Why yes, I think so.

A five years ago, decided to try out for the Detroit Derby Girls.  They were the only place I knew of that had derby in the area.  I got skates for Christmas that year, but I had just had a baby, so I waited to try out.  The next year  I bought all the equipment, I got what I wanted, because I KNEW I wanted to do this.  I was terribly out of shape, so I started going to open skates when I had time.   We had to go to this Derby U class that was held just days before tryouts.  I am not a small girl now.  I am not exactly young either.  But whatever, I went.  I had no clue that I was going to have to do "rock stars" and "180 turns" and whatever else they taught us that weekend.  But I do know this.  My quadriceps hated me by the day we had tryouts.  The day came. I showed up.  I gave everything I had, despite the fact that I could barely walk, two days after learning all these new things.  And I didn't make it.  Barely. 

I was upset that I didn't to start right then, but I didn't let that hold me back from working even harder to make up where I fell short for the next try out period.  Until...

My 2 year old was learning to ride a tricycle in our yard and I have 4 kids and at the time a home daycare.  I had this brilliant idea to practice crossovers in the driveway while the kids played outside.  My kid innocently drove right into my path.  I could see it coming.  I tried to decide if I should just hit the garage door or attempt to go around her.  I went for the later.  Unfortunately, her tricycle was the kind that had a handle on it, and when I skirted around her, it got caught on my pants, so I lifted it up.  She started to fall, so I put it back down, and promptly wiped out.  There was SO much ruckus with the kids running to help and Eliza crying that I didn't hear or feel anything much... and my only thought was "if I was playing in a game, I wouldn't be getting up."  There I lay on the pavement, surrounded by children, face down.  My [now husband] came running out and undid my gear, and I went into the house and got some ice.  Eliza, was OK, but screaming her head off that "mommy hurt me" with her dime sized abrasion to her knee.  Three hours later, I could tell something was wrong. I researched and I thought maybe it was my ACL. My knee was swelling up, pretty big, and it hurt to move in certain directions, but I could still walk on it.  I had free tickets to see Peter Murphy that night and decided not to go, since I didn't think I would be able to walk much.  This was a huge bummer.

I ignored my injury and even went skating a few times.  I started nursing school and my knee was STILL swollen, but seemed to be shrinking over time.  One day I stepped onto a 2 inch curb and I could feel the inside of my knee slip and I almost fell on my ass.  I decided to go to a sports medicine doctor.  Who called 2 hours after my MRI to ask if I was OK and refer me to another guy for surgery to repair my torn ACL.  2 days later, I had surgery.

Sept 2009

My doctor was the best. Both the regular sports doctor and the surgeon.  They didn't see just an out-of-shape nearly 40 year old.  They saw someone who had a spark, and when my doctor stated, "athletes like you, who have other responsibilities, like kids and jobs, need to have a strong repair".  I was taken back.  I thought, "ME?  An athlete?"  I could feel my face turn red.  He wanted to get me back to try out again, soon.  Skating within a few short months.  I think it was the first time, ever, anyone took my effort totally seriously and it made all the difference in my recovery and subsequent return to skating.

Fast forward, to today.  4 years later!  I never tried out again for DDG, I went with another league, but after a torn ACL,  broken patella,  broken tailbone and shin stress fractures, issues with high arches and 40 lbs lighter, I am actually playing. The more I play, the more serious I get about the sport.  The more serious I get about getting myself healthy.  Being an athlete is more than just being in great shape and at the top of your game.  It's a spark.  It's sheer will. It's working to your highest potential every day.  Not one great athlete was a star overnight.  They all started somewhere and this is where I began.  Have a great day!!

XOXO
Anja

Lucky Me.

So one day, a couple months ago, I came home from work and I said to my husband (not sure if he was even my husband at the time,) and said, "I think I am going to give up on the idea of going back to school, and focus on increasing my skills in derby instead".

Now for the average person that might sound ludicrous.  Some days it is even that way for me, and it's my idea.  The best part of this is that regardless of whether he was my husband or not... he didn't try to talk me out of it.  In fact, he just simply asked me more about the idea, and how I planned to achieve what I wanted.  And has been nothing but supportive of my every move.  Which is amazing.  I am so grateful.

I was listening to an MP3 about goal setting (Bonnie.D, of course) and she was talking about how it is hard to have a brand new idea and share it with someone.  More often than not, people don't know what to do with a brand new idea.  Many people would just say that my idea was crazy and irresponsible.  But it isn't like I am going to quit my job now, and pursue derby and leave the financial shit to him.  I mean we have 4 kids.  HAHA.

Anyway, This post is just about how happy and grateful I am to have such a fantastic guy to share my dreams and ideas with.  This next year I need to work on being the one he can also bounce off ideas.  Part of my change of focus is self-reflection in the areas that hold me back, from being the person I want to be and this is one area. Admission is the first step... He is a great role model, and I hope I can be as responsible with a brand new idea as he is.  I am one lucky girl.   Have a great night!!