Happy Mother’s Day

Sunday, May 11, 2008 at 6:18 pm (about me, figure skating, parenting)
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I’ve been thinking, for a few days now, that I want to do something really special for my mom this year, to show her how much I love and care about her. But we’re quite broke at the moment, since my sudden but exciting change in career trajectory means we no longer will be receiving a spring stipend payment in the next few weeks. We know we’ll be ok, though, because I have my babysitting job (15-20 hours a week) and the company’s next round of pitching will be in about 2 weeks, and we’re sure we’ll get some significant funding then. And for the summer, my advisor will be paying me to be a “part-time staff associate” so I can help finish up some of the projects we were working on together. But this next month or so will be challenging for us, so I couldn’t pursue some of the more classic ideas, like sending her something really special.

So I’ve been thinking about what I could do, and I think that, while I don’t have much monetarily to share, and we’re not close enough for me to stop by and give her a hug or take her to lunch, I do have my thoughts and my words. So I will share those.

In my childhood and teenage years, my mom and I spent lots and lots of time together. She would drive me to ballet, or soccer, or tap-dancing. I remember standing in the driveway, dressed up in a leotard or a skating outfit, and posing for pictures while she photographed me. I remember being in one of my first performances, dancing in a group number on an auditorium stage to some Irish music while my mother sat in the audience and watched. I remember going to the ice skating rink with my mom and my brother’s boy (cub?) scouts group, and falling in love with the ice. I remember those early days, waking up while it was still dark out to go and practice at the local rink. I remember the first time we went to the new skating complex and training center that was being built in Marlboro, MA, to get a lesson with the new skating director there, when I was still just a young skater and we were both still learning about the skating world.

I remember how my mom was always there, with me, by my side and watching as I learned new jumps and spins, tried new things and fell, time and time again. Yet she always brought me back the next day or encouraged me to skate the next session, so that I could get up and keep trying, keep pushing to be better, to land new jumps or to try new moves. And she kept supporting me as I advanced through my skating career, through the many years of practice and competitions, new skates and dresses, the endless driving and travel, and the really high monetary cost of pursuing the sport of figure skating (Seriously. It’s expensive!). Most of all, I’m glad she supported me through all of the bruising falls and that she was there to celebrate with me for the triumphs.

And she was still there for me when I decided, during the summer before my senior year of high school and after months of training to compete in the Senior Ladies division at regionals that fall, after all of that, that it was time for me to leave competitive skating behind, to move on to other things. I know it was hard for her too, as it was for me, but she supported me as I pursued academics more keenly, as I began joining things like the math league and putting more time into school clubs.

That fall she supported me and helped me to keep up the confidence I needed as I applied to 10 different undergraduate programs. And she was there with me to celebrate and to be proud when I was accepted into 9 of those programs, including two full tuition scholarships to schools in MA (where we lived) and including my first choice school, an elite university in NYC (which offered me need-based financial aid but not scholarships). And that fall, she encouraged me as I went off to my first-choice school, leaving MA for life in NYC. I know it must have been really hard for her, living at home alone with my father for the first time in years, both of her children off at college in the city (my brother was at school in Boston). But when I called to talk she always listened and cheered me on. Now, when we talk, we listen to each other’s problems and offer advice, love, and help to each other. I always feel better after talking to my mom, and I hope that she does too.

Mom, I am so thankful for the solid foundations you provided and for the endless support and encouragement as I pursue my dreams, no matter where they take me. Thank you for giving me the space to make my own mistakes while always being there to listen when I fell down and had to get back up again. I consider you one of my best friends, and I feel lucky to be your daughter. Most of all, I love you with all of my heart.

Happy Mother’s Day!

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Skating traffic

Thursday, May 8, 2008 at 12:40 am (about me, figure skating)

I don’t write about skating all that much, but I’ve mentioned it occasionally. In middle school and high school I was a competitive figure skater. I was browsing some skating blogs on the internet today and came across this post about the traffic on a freestyle sessions. Reading it really brought back memories…largely of some of the most frustrating parts of the day-to-day training!

Every skater copes with traffic differently. Some barrel ahead as if wearing blinders: the hapless individuals in their paths must either move or get flattened. Some skaters can’t contain their aggravation, frequently displaying rink rage. Other skaters constantly stop for everyone else, in the process never fitting in any of their own elements and therefore accomplishing little. Others are well-meaning but clueless, seeming to lack depth perception, often misjudging how close they are to gliding directly into someone else’s camel spin. Some just haven’t yet gotten the hang of steering; they see the traffic but can’t physically maneuver around it. Still others manage to find that balance of being both productive and safe.

I fell into various of these categories at different stages in my training.  Often, I was the one constantly letting others go ahead of me or in front of me, or psyching myself out so much that after circling 5 times and being cut-off or not finding an opening, I would finally get one only to “pop” or miss the jump.  In later years, I got my focus more under control and learned not to be afraid of the others, but I probably also got more reckless, sometimes taking off for a jump awfully close to someone moving nearby.  I remember one of the first times I took off for a double axel really close to someone and I still focused enough to land it.  I was proud of my focus and my coaches were too, since I was often much more submissive in letting the other skaters get in what they wanted to do, but it’s definitely a shame that sessions had to be that crowded as I have definitely seen some close calls - or actually cases of injury.

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Crafty Creations 1: My first shirt

Monday, March 10, 2008 at 1:55 am (Crafty Creations, about me, crafts, figure skating, projects, sewing)

I learned how to sew as a child, because my mother used to sew, and I asked her to teach me. I sewed myself a skating costume around the age of 10 or 11, but I must admit it…it had no taste at all. After that, I pretty much didn’t bother doing the sewing myself, but I mostly helped my mom to design the dresses she made for me to practice in. Sometimes she made my competition dresses, too, and then I’d also help to design the beading patterns.

I loved to design the styles to go with my music, and then I would figure out how to alter the pattern so that we’d make what I had dreamed up. My mother always said she didn’t know how I could do that; she didn’t feel comfortable designing her own patterns herself. I actually think this was one of my earlier experiences with thinking like an engineer - I loved to think of how the pieces would go together, unfolding the fabric in my mind to see the overall patterns. Then I would tell my mom how to alter the pattern and how to put the pieces together after she cut them out.

I hadn’t had any experience with sewing since I quit skating (7 years ago - wow such a long time and yet sometimes it still hurts to think of it), but last summer I decided to sew myself a shirt, mostly out of a desire for thriftiness. I went to Target and bought a string tie-dying kit from the craft/kid’s aisle, and then I went home and opened a pack of sheets that I had gotten from my mother-in-law for Christmas a year ago. I had never used them because they have lace on them and I don’t care for lacy bedsheets (I don’t think I should subject my husband to that). I got out a shirt with a similar design to the one I imagined I could make with the bedsheets. Then I measured myself and the dimensions of the shirt, and I crafted a pattern to make the shirt from scratch.

Then I cut out and tie-dyed the pieces using the string tie-dye kit (this involved wrapping the string around the twisted fabric and letting it soak in hot water), and I let them dry. Next, I stitched the pieces together - by hand, because I didn’t have a sewing machine at the time. But I found it to be rather relaxing, as repetitive as it was. As I was stitching it together, I tried it on and pinned any adjustments that I needed to make. At the end, I had this shirt, which I like very much:

I actually didn’t complete the shirt until a few months later, having left it undone with only one unsewn seam for that long. So for the holidays (Christmas to my parents and family anyhow, winter solstice/Human Light/general time of joy and family to me), I asked my mother for a sewing machine, and she got me one, which I love! A later Craft Creations post will be about my first sewing project with the machine - a bohemian skirt.

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The Love Song of Flicka Mawa

Wednesday, March 5, 2008 at 3:39 am (about me, bulimia, cat wisdom, depression, eating disorders, figure skating, health, marriage)

or…a brief story about my experience with bulimia and how much healthier I am now

The very first Cat Wisdom I featured on the sidebar of my page was this quotation from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Eliot:

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! Smoothed by long fingers, Asleep … tired … or it malingers, Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.

So I just went back and reread the poem, and it had such a calming effect on me. I was thinking about how I’ve loved this poem since I was 18, when I read it in English class in high school. My freshman year of college, I actually posted it (in it’s entirety in 12 pt font - around 4 feet long) to one of my walls. It’s interesting to think back on this, because it is also a reminder of how far I’ve come as far as mental health goes since those days. To continue the poem excerpt will give you an example of the urgency and indecision of my thoughts at 18:

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet — and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all” –
If one, settling a pillow by her head
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;
That is not it, at all.”
At 18, I was bulimic and depressed (which I channeled into the bulimia). Every decision I made felt fraught with tension - to eat the food, or not to eat the food? Or perhaps to go buy lots of good food, only to later find the nearest public one-stall bathroom in order to purge it back out. I was often far from home, taking myself to school or figure skating training or my boyfriend’s house, all of which were over a half hour from my home. When people ask me where I grew up, I hesitate to name the town my house was in, because I feel more connected to some other towns, the towns where I skated or the town, 40 minutes from home, where I went to public high school through the state’s school choice program just so that school would fit better with my training. It was definitely pretty intense, and I often felt kind of locked inside my own head. I was also completely overworked. In addition to this intense sports regimen I worked a part-time job at the local mall or coffee shop or beginner programs for the sport, and I was in many AP classes. I was an exceptional student and stayed up late at night finishing my homework. Most of my friends were also figure skaters. People at school whom I was friendly with had stopped asking me to hang out long ago, having learned that I was always busy. I, of course, had made friends at the rinks where I trained, but by my junior year many of them had quit. I was soon training in a new location, where nearly everyone was younger than me (and much richer and, for lack of a better word, cattier than me). So I was also pretty lonely. Or perhaps you’d say insanely lonely, at least compared to now…compared to living here with Husband, in this loving happy marriage.

I met Husband immediately after my sophomore year of college, which makes it nearly 4 years ago. I think I have made a lot of progress in that time. Although I had seen a counselor as soon as I got to college, I had still been struggling with the bulimia on and off up until the day I met Husband. I remember it very well, because I had been having a really bad day as far as the bulimia was concerned. But then I got a call from the exciting man I had met on match.com, and we made plans to meet up. And when I met him, I was so overjoyed at having found this wonderful, amazing, funny, intelligent, creative and adorable human being with whom to share my time, my thoughts. In whom I found understanding, which gave me the ability to be completely frank about the crazy thoughts inside my head. And he was as crazy for me as I was for him! This amazing catch thought I was amazing too, and genuinely found me to be sexy, which helped allow me to be sexy without being ashamed or overly concerned about whether I looked ok. He awakened in me the confidence I had been building but struggling with, and I didn’t need the clutch of the bulimia anymore. I moved on, and over time the thoughts faded, and now I no longer remember with accuracy the calorie content of most of the foods I encounter, nor the location of the nearest prime locations for a bulimic episode.

So as far as mental distress over eating, I have improved vastly. Physically, however, some manifestations remain. While I did successfully rid myself of the purging aspect of bulimia, I still occasionally binge eat. I don’t think I do it as often as I used to, but Husband and I both will sometimes spend time chilling out and eat so many sweets that our tummies ache after. We haven’t done this in a while though - we have both been succeeding at eating a bit healthier and losing some weight. For me, it’s been very slow and gradual, but there is a significant downward trend over the last few months, and that’s good. I get a fair amount of activity running, crawling, jumping, and playing with the kids a few days a week and now I can play DDR at home too, but I need to get to the gym more.

Additionally, I still suffer mental distress over other things. After giving up the bulimia (I say “giving up” because it was an addiction and a crutch), I plunged into a depression, which I have written about more extensively and still deal with. For that too, though, I can report improvement. I think 2008 has been relatively depression-free so far. Sure, there have been some sad and stressful times, and a minor quals freakout, but for the most part I’ve been functioning well - getting good work done, spending time with friends and of course with Husband, and spending time at my part-time nanny job. (Where two small children love me so much that last night, the older one kept something small from my bag that I had let him play with and brought it everywhere, even to bed with him. I feel loved, and warmed to think that the thought of me is so comforting to him.)

So, that’s where I am now, and a bit about how I got here.

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Privilege Meme

Saturday, January 19, 2008 at 9:11 pm (about me, figure skating, grad school, memes)

Watershed posted this on her blog recently, and I thought it sounded neat, so I’m going to do it too. I think I’ll get a pretty high score, because I was raised in a solid middle class home, and I’ve only gone down in class since leaving my parent’s home.  I thoroughly expect to go back up after I finish my schooling and Husband’s business plays itself out.
Watershed asked for credit to be given to the authors of the exercise:

This is based on “From What Privileges Do You Have?,” an exercise about class and privilege developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois State University.

Like watershed, I have made bold and green for those which I answer yes.

1. Father went to college And he was at Duke, so check plus here.

2. Father finished college

3. Mother went to college

4. Mother finished college

5. Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor. Yes, but not one I’ve ever met. Only a slightly more distant relative that I’ve heard of, because he won a Nobel Prize.

6. Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers

7. Had more than 50 books in your childhood home

8. Had more than 500 books in your childhood home. I don’t think so, but it may well have been over 300, so I could be wrong.

9. Were read children’s books by a parent I only remember mom ever doing it, though.

10. Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18 Oh yes. 3 hours a week in private figure skating lessons. Another hour of private choreography lessons to go with that. And 3 or 4 more hours of group classes, both on-ice (power skating or edges) and off-ice (ballet, jumps, calisthenics, cardio exercise).

11. Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18. If you count other group lessons and extracurricular activities from my younger years, before skating was my one and only, there was also soccer, tap dance, gymnastics. And the girl scouts.

12. The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively. They are, however, nearly always much thinner.

13. Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18. Got my first credit card at 18, I think. But it might have been late part of being 17.

14. Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs. But there were many things that all of my ivy-league peers’ parents paid for that my parents did not. They stopped buying me clothes except as presents, they didn’t pay for most of my food after Freshman year, and senior year I had to take out a non-federally subsidized 20k college loan. I also had the max in federally subsidized aid every year. Overall if you add it all up I’d say they paid for the majority, but it might only be the plurality if you include grant money from the school that paid for parts of my tuition.

15. Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs.

16. Went to a private high school. Nope. And I hope to send my kids to public school. If we’re still in NYC, that may not work for grade school, but I will want them in a public magnet high school before I’d want them in private high school.

17. Went to summer camp. Not usually things that were called “summer camp” or that involved sleeping away from home, but my intense summer skating training program was essentially a training camp.

18. Had a private tutor before you turned 18. Never needed one.

19. Family vacations involved staying at hotels. Occasionally, for Disney land or greater family events. Our yearly vacation was at a time-share that we owned. I imagine that counts as yes.

20. Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18. We didn’t have close family friends or relatives who had a girl within more than 5 years of my age, so it wouldn’t have been an easy option, but my mom loved to shop so I had a lot of clothes growing up. I have much, much less now. Especially jeans. I tend to have 2-3 pairs of pants at a time nowadays, and usually at least one of them will need some sort of mending. I really could afford to have more pants, but it’s not a priority I suppose - I’d rather buy electronics than clothes.

21. Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them. For the first year after I got my license I shared with my mom the Ford station wagon. Then my parents bought me a used Toyota Corolla, and I began driving myself to all my skating. My mom was then able to take on a better paying job because she didn’t need to be constrained by my chauffeuring needs. They didn’t buy my brother a car that wasn’t a hand-me-down until he was going to college.

22. There was original art in your house when you were a child. Nothing famous, but we had some paintings that I remember touching the texture of the oil brush-strokes. Just two, one in the master bedroom and one in the den.

23. You and your family lived in a single-family house.

24. Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home. But we did move to a smaller house before I left home.

25. You had your own room as a child. Not always though. My brother and I shared a room until he was 10 and I was 8.

26. You had a phone in your room before you turned 18. I never had a house line in my room, but I got a cell phone at 16 when I started driving myself sometimes.

27. Participated in a SAT/ACT prep course. Didn’t need one.

28. Had your own TV in your room in high school. But we had two family shared tv’s, one of which was in the playroom. So we weren’t all fighting over one tv, either.

29. Owned a mutual fund or IRA in high school or college. My parents were always very financially responsible with whatever their income level was, and some of this was instilled in my brother and me. My brother opened an IRA before he even got to college! Despite the fact that Husband and I have a hard time managing our spending impulses but a low drive for the high-paying jobs that we could both attain if we wanted to, one thing we did right is that I began putting some of Husband’s and my money into a mutual fund and some into a Roth IRA I think during my senior year of college.

30. Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16. We did drive to our family vacation, but we took planes based on frequent flyer miles from our credit card spending (which my dad promptly paid off each month) for special things like family weddings or deaths. Once or twice we flew to FL to go to Disney.

31. Went on a cruise with your family. And no international trips either. I never left the US until I did so on my own.

32. Went on more than one cruise with your family.

33. Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up. We had a family membership to the Boston Museum of Science. I loved it, and my brother did too. Every July 4th we’d go into Boston and spend the day at the museum, go to a show in their OMNI imax theater, and then spend the evening on the roof we’re we’d watch the fireworks while they played the Boston Pops. Now that I think about it, it was one of my favorite family traditions.

34. You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family. My dad would turn the heat down a lot to save money, but my mom always turned it back up and I got the impression he was just being stingy.

Ok, so I got a 25.

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