Today is one month of swimming. I filled out a mile card to keep track of how far I've swam and it looks as though I have swam about 5 miles during that time. Accordng to the scale in the locker room I haven't shed a single pound. I feel better though. Each time I leave the locker room, wet hair dripping, face flushed, I feel successful: I am being proactive; I'm doing something. I'd love to see the fruit of my labor in the reduction of cottage cheese on the backs of my thighs, but I am not as upset about it now. Well, no, I guess I am. But I still feel better physically. Next week I push myself to 900yds (36 laps) which is a half a mile.
I have a cold though. An ugly one. A stuffy nose seal barker cold. It sucks. I am holding off on abx as I don't feel it is in my lungs yet and I am hoping with swimming and vesting I can keep it out of there.
My son turns 9 on Monday. For nine years I have been a mom. My boy is a challenging child and I don't always feel I've done a great job of being his mom. I constantly worry I am fucking him up somehow and that i can do better. But I am also pleased that I've seen him this far along. He's a beautiful albeit mixed up little soul and i pray each night that I am here to see him continue to grow and flourish - and to someday be able to look back on this childhood from a standpoint of success.
4 comments:
Good for you ! I admire you for being so committed to your swimming!
Being a mother isn't the easiest job in the world but it is the one that gives me the most satisfaction and pride.
You love your little man.
Wow. reading your post makes me feel very lazy. Good for you!
I think all mothers feel like they could have done a better job. I'm sure you are doing a wonderful job with him.
Hey, I came across your blog by accident, and I just now realized I know you lol. Just thought I'd let you know I was snooping around in your blogs. YAY!
(TinyGreenTurtles)
PS. I really love your writing.
Hi -- found your blog through cf2chat. Thought I would reminde you of the Philip Larkin poem (This be the Verse), which always makes me smile but also frightens me beyond words now that I have a son of my own:
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.
Although I like other Philip Larkin better, particularly "the Mower" which is less well known but more optimistic. Hope your infection starts to go away soon!
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