Spinning Yellow

Trying Not to Drown

We are fully into summer now.  Actually a quarter of the way through, but I'm not really counting.  I am embracing summer, remember?  I am doing my best, but let me just say that it is NOT easy.  There have been fights and screaming and lots of stress along with the good parts.  Things like playing in the yard, seeing my nephew perform in summer theater, eating lots of ice cream, visiting the library, going to the beach, fourth of July fireworks.  One of the best parts was supposed to be swimming lessons.

But here we are again and it is not going well.  Two years ago when we started swim lessons, Scott had already done several sessions of Mommy and me classes at the Y.  He always enjoyed getting in the water, even at the beach, but had stop attending a group class at the Y the previous fall when he didn't want to swim without one of his parents.  I remember being very concerned about how it would go because nothing ever goes smoothly with Scott initially.  That was the summer when Scott was 4, Jane was 1, and our family was drowning in tension.  We were seeing a Parenting Consultant to help us with Scott's lack of potty training issue and we were (especially me) sure that we were failing him miserably as parents.  He was spiraling further out of control and so were we.  This was the summer before the fall when he was diagnosed with SPD.

That summer he started in what is called the Non-Swimmer class.  A terrible name, really.  I recall that Scott kept saying, but I am supposed to be learning to swim, right?  I wonder who came up with that a hundred years ago.  Anyway, I had discussed the whole thing with the Parenting Consultant and tried to talk to the swim instructors at the beginning of the session about how anxious he could be.  The very first day he left the class in tears saying that the teacher would give them candy if they put their faces in the water.  Seems like a good incentive, right?  Not to Scott.  All he thought was that he wouldn't be able to do and would never get the candy.  He was off to a terrible start.

I remember crying to one of my friends, saying, why can't anything be easy with him.  I felt so responsible and sad for him.  As the summer progressed he got a set of new (super cute) girl instructors who were able to get him more comfortable in the water.  He never put his head under the water and therefore never progressed to the next level (Swimmer 1). 

There is a whole side story to the swimming, too, about the scene at the pool.  What the kids do after lessons and the playground, ball playing social maneuvering.  Without getting too far off this topic, I'll just say that Scott must know where I am at all times and found managing the unstructured time outside the pool to be challenging.

When it came time to sign Scott up for lessons last year, when he was 5 and I knew all about the SPD, I uncharacteristically lied and said he was in the Swimmer 1 group.  I figured he needed to be in with the kids his age and be pushed a little to start swimming.  This tends to be a good strategy with him, but at  first it was, once again, not a good situation.  He wouldn't do what the instructors wanted and half way through the 8 week session, the lead teacher told me Scott had not progressed like the other kids had.  I remember clearly thinking how hard it was for Scott.  He would get disoriented in the water.  His body felt different.  And the teenager swim instructors would tell the kids to do stuff and Scott couldn't follow along.

At this point I understood how the SPD related to his motor planning difficulties.  I saw how the instructors would explain the backstroke: put your arm up to your ear, turn it so your pinky is in back, brush past your ear and back down.  All the kids dutifully followed along while Scott waved his arms around or didn't do anything.  I am sure they thought he had ADHD.  That he couldn't concentrate and was unfocused.  But I saw that he couldn't follow the instructions and make his body do what they did so he just ignored them or acted silly.  It was a real eye-opener in how his SPD (in this case coming out through the motor planning) could look like bad behavior instead of an actual physical problem being able to complete the task.

Matt would take Scott to the pool and try to get him to put his head under the water.  Finally, during the second to last week of class, Scott just got it.  He was with his Dad and just started swimming around.  When I first saw him do it, I cried.  It is such a big thing.  And he was so proud of himself.

It was fleeting, though, as he developed swimmer's ear and has not put his head under the water since.  It was very painful and he hated getting the drops in his ears.  So, here we are.  I figured he'd get over it once he started lessons again this year and saw everyone swimming.  Nope.  Today was the first parent observation day and his current instructors tried everything to get him to put his head in, to no avail.

As I watched them today, I felt so sad for Scott.  I started to wonder what Matt and I were doing forcing him to do this.  He seemed so unhappy.  And, in general, he hasn't been doing that well.  Remember how I thought once we settled into the summer routine, that he would be more together.  But he's actually been worse.  Stuff has been cropping up; chewing his shirt, hmming, anxiety about where I am.  And it hit me today:  Maybe the swimming lessons are a big part of the problem.

Maybe he is so worried about not being able to do it and then feels like such a failure that he is totally stressed.  Wait.  Is this similar to the potty training issue with Jane?  OK, if two kids who are so different are having the same sort of pressure to succeed, then it must be the parents who are at fault, right? 

Over and over, it is the same parenting dilemma:  Are we pushing too much or are we coddling and not requiring enough?  Are we trying too hard or not hard enough?

I am not sure if Matt and I can take credit for the things our children do well (like eating and going to sleep) any more than we should take the blame for things that don't go well.  But it does seem odd that we are having the same problems again while other people are not (although they may have different problems).

Obviously Jane needs to learn how to use the toilet and I feel strongly that Scott needs to be able to swim. He doesn't have to be on the swim team or be a triathlete or even do it well.  But for safety sake and the ability to enjoy the ocean and pools, he must learn how to swim.  I've been talking to him about how he used to do it and he still can, but I'm not getting anywhere.  The instructors looked so exasperated.  I don't want my kid to take up all of their time.  Especially when I think they have nothing to do with it.  They said it was OK (what can they say?)

With three-quarters of the summer left, I am not sure how to proceed.  Maybe he can't swim.  He is so good at other sports, maybe we should just leave this alone.  But.  That doesn't seem right.  And he can do it.  He did it before.

Scott told his Dad today that he wants to practice at the pool this weekend.  He pinky swore to his instructor that he would put his head in.  Will that be the thing that makes him do it?  Man, I wish I had the secret answers.  But, of course, I know that's the real problem.  There are no clear cut answers.  No magical solutions.

And that is the hardest part of all.

My Mother-In-Law, Survivor

I almost titled this "My Mother In Law Has Cancer", but I didn't want the cancer to define her.  I hesitate to even say "Survivor" but a blogosphere person, who just found out  she has cancer, is looking for inspiration.  And the survivor that I think of is my very own MIL. 

So when I say my MIL has cancer, I mean, had, technically, I guess.  But not just once or even twice, but many times.  In her breast, then her colon, and her lung and then her breast again and well, lots of cancer.  Cancer that first appeared many years before I knew her and then most of it over the past eight years that she and I have become family.

Cancer that has completely changed her life.  Cancer that has sent her to the hospital countless times.  Cancer that has required her to endure major surgery, over and over.  Cancer that took away a big part of her colon and now both of her breasts.  Cancer that has made her so sick all she can do is lie on the sofa and wish the hours away.

When I first met my MIL, shortly after I met my husband, she seemed healthy and vibrant.  Within months, just as Matt and I were getting engaged, she found out that she had colon cancer.  I didn't know her very well then.  I felt for her, but I was concerned about my fiance.  I didn't understand the magnitude of what she was going through, nor can I really comprehend it now.

Obviously, I didn't want her to die, nor did I want her to suffer.  But that's long before I knew her like I do now.  Like a friend.  I would say, like a mom, since I know that's what you are supposed to say about your MIL.  But I don't see her that way.

My mom is right here, two blocks away.  I talk to her all the time.  She knows me well, but will always regard me as the child she gave birth to and raised.  How could she not?  But my MIL didn't know me when I was young.  She wasn't there to experience a lifetime of me.  She has no feelings of regret or frustration with who I am or what I have done.  She just knows me as the person who married her son and is the mother of her grandchildren.

When people complain about their MILs, how they butt in and take their husband's side.  I shake my head, not so with me.  And then they say, but she tries to be my mom.  Again, not my MIL.  She is her own person and regards me the same way.  I do not feel that she talks down to me in any way.  There is mutual respect and from me, without a doubt, admiration.

My MIL dropped out of college to have a family.  Her own mother died young and she has had many obstacles along the way.  But after the colon cancer surgery and subsequent grueling chemo and radiation, she is every bit a survivor.  She decided to go back to school and pursue her dream of getting a college degree.

Always the smartest person in the room, it was hard to believe that she could have possibly not finished college.  So, while she would get scans and check ups, she went to school.  Earning first her undergraduate and now, in May 2007, a Masters degree.  She excelled in college in every way.  Receiving top marks and recognition for outstanding work.  And through it all she continued to battle cancer.

As a result of her initial colon cancer surgery, she had scar tissue that would cause her to get a "blockage" which would mean she had to stay in a hospital for days, in horrible pain, until it passed.  She always completed her required school work.  She had to have more surgery to correct the situation, then had cancer removed from her lung.  And just before the start of this year, she found out that she had breast cancer.

While getting a double mastectomy and reconstructive surgery, she completed her Masters Degree (with Honors).  Nothing was going to stop her from pursuing her goal and living her life.  She is an expert on cancer.  She researched and knows as much as a patient can.

Not long ago, I told her that she was such a great resource for cancer patients.  She surprised me by saying that, although she is happy to help (and she is involved in many ways), she also didn't really want to be a poster child for cancer.  That sometimes she is sad and scared and overwhelmed just like all other people who have or have had cancer.  That she didn't want people to be frightened by her multiple bouts of cancer and recurrences.  She didn't want their pity.  She didn't want them to look at her and fear the worst.   That she was tired and weary of always having to be strong.  That she knows she will always be fighting this disease.  It has been difficult and terrifying.  It still is.

And I think she was also trying to say that she didn't want the cancer to define her.  And it hasn't.  It has made her better.  It is part of her.  And even though she and I do not share any blood, the cancer is now part of me, too.  Because I see how someone can live through it and with it and despite of it. 

I will always be inspired by her courage, her steadfastness, her strong will, her openness.  And I am grateful that she is my MIL and my friend.

I have been meaning to write this post (what else is new?) and was inspired to put other tasks aside for a fellow blogger, Whymommy, from Toddler Planet, who won a pass to BlogHer 2007 and now can't go.  You see, she just found out she has breast cancer and needs to start treatment right away.  I hope this helps to give her a little bit of encouragement.