Full Potential

Love Is A Choice

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 2 Comments

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If there is something else of importance that I came away with from this weekend’s Marriage Encounter it is that LOVE IS A CHOICE.  It is a choice that you make again and again and again over the lifetime of your relationship. The choice to love begins when you wake up in the morning and think pleasant thoughts of your spouse while he lays there sleeping. It is present when you decide to take the time to really listen to what your partner is saying. And it renews itself when you chose to give your sweetie the benefit of the doubt and believing in the best instead of the worst.

I am not sure when B and I forgot this or if we ever viewed love in exactly this way. Letting resentments build up is not choosing to love. Foregoing intimacy is not choosing love. Escaping from each other by putting other things first is not choosing love and I know these things were happening in our relationship. No wonder our relationship became unsatisfying to both of us. Other things intruded and we did not recognize it nor stop it when we did. Making sure that our love for each other a priority just never got very high on the list.

I thought it might be difficult to make sure that B knew I was choosing love. But staying connected throughout the day via texting and dialoguing at night is helping us to see that putting our relationship first makes us feel good about the other. It makes us appreciate and celebrate what we have.

Sure, it has only been a few days and we have yet to be put to the test with schedules, poor behavior and a disagreement. But I have hope that as long as we both remember that LOVE IS A CHOICE and choose to honor the choice we have been blessed by; then loving each other as the unique individuals we each are will become as natural as a rose opening itself for all the world to appreciate and see.

 

Cool Sculpting

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 4 Comments

So last week I decided to do something extravagant for myself. I decided to have my stomach cool sculpted. In case you haven’t heard, it is that completely safe procedure in which approximately 20% of the fat cells in a targeted area are frozen and they die a slow and painful death; this in direct contrast to the rapid rate of expansion that they seemed to have undergone during my 40’s.

Anyway, cool sculpting is suppose to leave you several inches thinner with a figure reminiscent of when you were a “way before kids” 20 something. The problem with all of this is that it is  hideously expensive… even with a coupon or two. But heading into my 56th birthday I decided I was tired of looking like a pouchy kangaroo and exercise just wasn’t taking care of it. Losing almost 60 pounds over the last few years also made my bad look worse in some places but exceedingly so in my stomach area. So I did it. I pulled up my big girl panties, added some glitter, and sauntered on in.

All I can say is thank goodness I took the mega strength aspirin an hour before check-in time. Who knew that your gut could be stuffed in something like a itty bitty frozen sausage casing and survive. As my belly went in the machine my toes curled causing massive cramping and I swear my head stood on end but after about 10 minutes my body slowly began to adjust to the pulling sensation. It was akin to wearing nipple clamps…or so I am told.

Finally after an hour of this self imposed torture, I was dismissed by the skinny blonde who has never had a weight problem a single day in her blessed life.

“Drink plenty of water,” said Debbie. “Remember, no strenuous exercise within the first 24hours (have I ever done anything strenuous?). And don’t be discouraged it will take approximately 3 months for the final results. Oh, and by the way you will have bruising and within a few days you will feel something akin to internal itching. Just ignore it. Eventually it will go away.”

So now, six days after the procedure, the itching has kicked in.Only it doesn’t feel like itching it feels like teeny tiny pinpricks are occurring throughout my abdomen. In addition, I look like a mule just kicked me. All of this is making me slightly on edge and somewhat discouraged…as if I wasn’t all ready!

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Have you ever had once of those times in your life when the stars aligned and you met the right person at just the right time? Well, it happened for me today and not one day too late. In an attempt to find my zen, I went to the gym and as I was telling my classmates that I had this done, one woman piped up and told me she had her flank, stomach, and inner thighs sculpted. I almost fainted. She is older than me and let me tell you she looks FANTASTIC. Sure she weighs about 30 pounds less than I do but she tells me that the difference between before and after is amazing. In fact, she shared with me that she never told her husband that she had done all this and one day while getting out of the shower he took a good look at her and said, “What the hell has happened to you? You look amazing!” Of course, then she had to fess up but he thought it was all worth it.

Now I know we are suppose to love our bodies like we love ourselves and I get the importance of all that.It’s vital to develop those inner qualities which draw people to you like a moth to a flame. But unfortunately, for most women, loving your body is much harder than it should be for all those nonsensical reasons thrust upon us by the media and men. So when I think about all those wasted years when I was a young woman wishing my ass wasn’t so big, that my boobs were bigger, my legs were longer and my stomach flatter; well, it makes me kind of wistful and sad. Why couldn’t I just appreciate what I had going for me then, which, in truth sounds kind of hypocritical of me now considering what I have just done. But as much as I hate to admit it, even at my age, my looks do matter to me.  Especially naked… so much so that I will no longer shower with B. And when I write that it makes me want to throw up…but it is the sad…sad truth. It is my reality. I know better but knowing it doesn’t make me feel better and it doesn’t make me want to skinny dip in the moonlight like I did when I was young. Frankly, as I age I miss those tiny pleasures in life and I yearn for that kind of spontaneity once more. And damn it I want to shower with someone again and have hot steamy sex while doing it. So instead of sitting along the sidelines, which I do a lot more often than I would like to admit; I want to throw off the those body images that are weighing me down. Obviously, this means I have to make some changes both inside and out to find the kind of acceptance that I have been lacking. I have been working hard at it. Discovering who I am but also who I want to be in this later part of my life and how I want to look.

But then one day I had an epiphany. It FINALLY dawned on me that being able to love my body at this age would be better than never having loved it at all even if that means being somewhat superficial and paying a lot of money to do it. Sculpting away my love handles and my kangaroo pouch is a gift for myself. It is something done just for me. Yes, it’s vain. Yes, there are more noble/worthy things to have spent this money on BUT at this age I’ve realized that feeling good about yourself is also important. Even more important…I finally feel like I am worth whatever it is I decide to do!

So damn the torpedoes I’m going full steam ahead in this life, no matter where it takes me!

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The First Rose

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 6 Comments

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As parents we are always doubting ourselves when it comes to our kids. There are no manuals and every child is so completely different from the other especially when they have issues that other children never have to face. I know of what I speak. With six children I have learned much and each one has taught me in a completely different way. Yet, I also know about those deep, dark, slippery wells that you sometimes feel like you cannot climb out of  when things are tough which often seems to be the case when your children have life impacting disabilities. It makes you question yourself and all you are doing to an even greater extent than ever before.

Paul struggles. He has autism and several other medical issues but his social skills are pretty much on track. Until you are around him for awhile you would probably never guess the extent of his issues and how they impact him everyday. But impact him they do. And our family too. Constantly.

Sometimes parents whose children have a disability find it hard to let go. Sending them to the store alone, even though it is just down the block, is terrifying when you know that your child is somewhat gullible and naive. But when the older teen years hit you realize that holding on too tight is a hinderance and not a help so you start loosening the strings. So recently Paul has been walking to the store by himself which gives him a sense of freedom that any 15 yo boy needs.

On Sunday Paul asked to go to the store. He had earned some money and wanted to buy himself a special snack… so off he went, hands deep in his pocket holding on to his hard-earned cash.

About 15 minutes later he returned with a perfect red rose in his hand which he shyly gave to me.

“I know I haven’t been treating you very well lately so I bought you a rose to show you how much I love and appreciate you”

I cried. He smiled and I think he knew that in giving me that beautiful rose he actually gave me so much more than just a flower. He let me know, that despite my mistakes and frailties as a parent, I really am doing something right by my kids. And even more importantly, I see him growing into a lovely young man who is doing good things like every decent and wonderful human being does on his own and without my help.

God, I love that kid!

 

Books And Fear

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 5 Comments

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Every once in a while you read a book and think with a smile, shudder, or frown, “Hey, I know that character!”

A Man Called Ove was such a book for me. The main character, Ove, was really my father in disguise. He was a man I knew well and as I read further into the story gained insight into what kind of man my  real life father is and why he operates the way he does. Sometimes these discoveries made me happy and some made me sad but it brought to light things that I was able to put under the microscope and examine in a way that I had not been able to before. I have a real appreciation for books that are able to do that. Those books that can bring clarity into some part of our own lives are amazing. They contain stories teach us, provide insight and make us think of our own experiences in new and different ways. That kind of writing is rare and oh-so-special.

I am a good short story writer. That is why I write for magazines. But I dream of being a novelist. A good one. I dream of writing the type of book where it takes six months for you to get it after putting it on the reserved list at the library. A book that is meaningful. A novel with characters that the reader connects with from the first page and cry with at the last.

I have a half-dozen half-started novels in binders and on my computer. One day I would like to finish just one but I find that I have difficulty sustaining the thoughts/actions of my characters after many chapters. And so I stop. Thinking about them, developing them and challenging myself to work harder to figure out exactly who they are. Because I am afraid. Afraid to push myself harder. Afraid to commit. Afraid to find out who I am so I can find out who they are. Afraid of adding anything else to my plate.

I am afraid and I am ashamed of this fear for it is unlike me to tuck my tail between my legs and run. But run I do…I sprint back to the safety of what I do well instead of  walking towards the unknown outcome of my dreams.  I suffer for it and settle because of it. Fear binds me and wraps its chains around me and I don’t even struggle to break free.

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Sometimes Being A Mom Sucks Big Time

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 3 Comments

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So today was Gracie’s big meet. For a 11 year-old who has only been in the sport 2.5 years she does remarkably well. She works hard. She practices 20 hours a week. She watches videos of all her favorite Olympic divers and she reads books on the subject. She is the hardest working kid I know but sometimes that just isn’t enough.

Today’s meet was the largest held in the world with 29 states and 5 countries represented. She woke up and ate breakfast. When we arrived at the venue Gracie started crying.Hard. Fast and furious. This is a kid who never cries and goes into a meet exuding confidence. Always. But here she was crying and all the parents on the team were looking at her with big ??? on their faces because they had never seen her like this. She was a mess.

“I feel sick. My stomach hurts.”

“I think that maybe you are just a little nervous. Give it sometime and you’ll be fine.”

“No. I am really sick. I am going to puke.”

“You weren’t sick 10 minutes ago. Are you sure you aren’t just nervous?”

“NOOO I am sick,” she wails.

One of her teammates walks over to her and tells her a story of how sometimes she gets butterflies before competing.

“It’s not that. I am sick,” her body being wracked by sobs.

Back over to me she comes.

“I can’t do this. My stomach hurts.”

“Okay, well here is the thing. I think you are nervous and I am afraid that if I tell you that you don’t have to compete the next time you have a competition you will be paralyzed by fear and you won’t be able to compete then either. So I just want you to go out there and do what you came to do. I don’t care if you finish last. It doesn’t matter to me. Just go out there and try to have fun.”

Bigger tears. Sniffles. Lots. More tears. Huge tears. Rapid tears.

What is a mother to do? Where is the manual on the best way to handle drama?

Coach and team take her over to the staging area. Five minutes later she’s back.

“I can’t feel my hands.”

I’ve always had a fear of drowning and at this point I swear I am beginning to feel water rising to ankle level due to the hurricane of tears.

“Listen if your hands are numb then I have to take you to the hospital.”

“Nooo!”

She sulks back to her team. Obviously this is getting me nowhere fast. Time to switch tactics.

Three minutes later she’s back.

“I’m dizzy!”

“Okay. So go scratch. Go tell your coach that your cannot compete.”

“NOOOOOOOO! I can’t let my team down like that!”

What is a mother to do? What can I say to this tween that will make a difference?

“It is not a matter of letting your team down. It’s a matter of letting yourself down and how you will feel if you don’t compete. What matters is you. I don’t care what you do and in 10 years you won’t even remember your scores. You have decide for yourself if you would feel worse competing or not competing. It is all up to you.Only you can make that decision and I am not going to make it for you.”

“Mom, I just can’t,” she squeaks… gasp, gulp and even more tears.

“Seems to me you have two options. Either you scratch or you suck it up, buttercup, and get out there and do your best in a situation that is not ideal. I will love you either way.”

So she competes and earns two 4th place finishes and one tie for 3rd. Not bad at all for all the tears. For all the “sickness.” For all the doubts. For all the fears.

Later as she stood on the podium collecting her medals she was relaxed. Happy. Calm. And as those medals clanged softly against her chest I realized that the medals I cherish most from this meet are not the ones that hang around her neck but the one that now rests within her head. It’s the one that will remind her that she CAN do what she sets out to do even if she has to work through her fears to grasp it in her hand. To me, that last medal is worth more than gold. I hope she will think so too someday and will treasure the memory of how she overcame all the crap going on in her own head to earn it.

 

 

 

 

Music Awards Suck

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 1 Comment

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Recently, I did something which, frankly, I have never done…I watched about an hour of the AMA awards on television. I really don’t watch this sort of stuff because who wants to watch a bunch of drugged out freaky people give themselves awards when, frankly, they already have wayyyy too much time and energy given to them for mostly mediocrity. And watching really just confirmed my view that for the most part those “entertainers” were nothing but a bunch of sold out, sold up folks who are made in the image that the music industry tells us the public wants whether it is the truth or not.

I can honestly say that after watching these folks they are not what I want to watch, emulate or have my children aspire to. Most of them sing angry sounding songs that promote ugliness, hate and bad behavior. What is up with that? Don’t people have enough of that in their lives? I mean really who wants to be brought down any lower? I just don’t get it. Why emphasize the negative when these so called “role models” could be promoting the positive. I mean these singers have all the reason in the world to be singing the praises of love, helping others and adoration because that is the life they are living. So unless they are going to help our kids, encourage them and build their confidence I would really rather that they just go home and stop wasting everyone’s time and money. If this is truly what the public wants then we are doomed.

Where Do I Go From Here?

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 7 Comments

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My plane lifts off for Shanghai in thirty-seven hours. Between now and then I want to play with the grandkids (ages 2 and 7 months). They bring such joy and happiness around a house filled with the angst of teens and tweens. I want to enjoy and appreciate my kids and have my love surround them when I am gone. Each and every one of them.But in real life time, I also have to work at a diving meet tomorrow and then stay to watch Gracie compete. I have to shower. Do my hair. I have to pack. Decide what to bring and what not and whether or not to take up precious room in my suitcase by bringing along eye candy for my husband. Red or green? See-through or make-you-guess? Right now it is a 50-50 chance one of them will make the cut. Later I have to drive from my house to the airport which is four hours away IF there is no traffic and that is a BIG if. Thirty-seven hours  to go and I am nowhere near ready and I am unsure what I want to do with the 24 hours we have in Shanghai. Still. But I think I might have an idea.

I have been investigating Shanghai for the past four hours. Considering whether to take a tour. Or maybe a private car (never have done one of those). Even a taxi. But within the last two hours I think I have decided to be brave and take the road less traveled by many foreigners. I think we will take the subway from the airport (line 2), go eleven stops, transfer to line 16, go 6 stops, exit the subway station, cross the street and take bus 628 go past the Government Building and get off at the next stop. Then walk towards the direction the bus is going, make a left and then I should see the Ancient Water Town of Xinchang. At least this is what Doug on Trip Advisor says. Every Doug I have ever known has been a nice guy so I am going to assume that this Doug is too and that he is not leading me into some sort of den of iniquity which might be interesting in of itself if B was not along for the ride.

It is always intriguing to me how we choose the places that we visit. I used to think that is was a science but I have now come to believe it is haphazard and you end up going where you are suppose to be. So many times I have set out in one direction and ended up somewhere else. Usually some place better than I had ever imagined and I have met people that I never would have had I followed my Itinerary.

That is what I am hoping for when I go to Xinchang. I hope to meet an old man who takes me into his ancient house in the ancient river and tells me stories. Stories of what life was like when he was young. Stories of the war. Stories of his family, his work and his loves. Stories that help explain things I can only imagine. Stories that bring tears to my eyes and a laugh to my heart. For really, its only the ancients that can tell a great story in a way that makes you realize you have to live much longer, take more bounteous risks, and love much deeper/fearlessly in order to create a story that hugs a heart like that. A stick-with-you kind of scenario. An I-want-to-do-better-myself type of thing.

So I am crossing my fingers about today and the days to come. They are crossed for Gracie and her first diving competition of the year. About my suitcase weighing less than 50 pounds. They are crossed and white knuckled about airplane trips. About de-icing planes. About making sure my kids are okay. They are crossed tightly about having a clear day to look up at Mt. Everest. About B and I discovering more to love about one another during this trip. About meeting little old men with great stories so I can earn the basics of a few good stories of my  very own. And my fingers are crossed because maybe, just maybe, this journey of a lifetime will actually renew a love that was suppose to last a lifetime; as we look towards a mountain that has withstood it’s own test of time to become a beacon for those with love in their heart, determination in their minds and passion in their souls. One can only hope.

 

 

What Is Happiness?

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 2 Comments

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Lately I have been thinking a lot about happiness…as in… what is it really, how do we get it and most importantly how do we hold on to it?

Sometimes I know what happiness is. It is a warm cuddle with a baby who looks at you, eyes wide, and smiles so broad you wonder how it is contained on such a small face. It is laying my head on my husband’s chest and feeling its rhythmic rise and fall and with it the feeling that everything will fine in all that we have created. It is writing the ‘perfect’ piece in which you feel you have gotten your point across and a bit of your own humanity as well.

But, I wonder, is happiness suppose to be this fleeting…small moments in time that when added together don’t account for all that much? And what is the difference between being content or feeling joy? Is joy just happiness on steroids and is contentment just joy three times removed? Or is happiness just a deep appreciation for a moment felt whether it lasts three seconds or five minutes? And the big question… how do I feel more of all of these positive feelings and hold them in my hand like pearls savoring their smoothness, shape, color and beauty?

I once had a friend named John who swore he never had a bad day. His secret, he told me, was that he would get up in the morning, look in the mirror and say out loud, “John, you are going to have a great day!” And according to him he always did. For John, a “great day” was simply a state of mind, a place that his mind took him to and stayed with him there as the hours counted down from midnight and back.

I’m not sure what happiness really is but I know I would like to experience more of it and expand that feeling for a longer period of time when I do happen upon it. I would like to find more of that “elusive state of mind” that allows happiness to be seen easily and enjoyed fully. And finally, I would like to one day be able to define for myself and others exactly what it is because until I can answer question I suspect that it will remain a random feeling instead of a large part of my everyday life.

So here’s to happiness…may it find us all easily and may we chose to see it when it arrives.

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IEP Services From The School District

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 2 Comments

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For years we have been fighting our local school district to get our son what he needs in order to learn. Comprehension is sometimes difficult and math often impossible. We have watched him struggle to learn things that others grasp without effort while the school district ignored our concerns. Yet, if he is taught using particular methods he is often able to do the work that is required. Unfortunately, we do not yet know some of the methods that he would benefit most from.

We first realized he was having difficulty with math in first grade. We brought it to the attention of the IEP team. Our concerns were dismissed. In second grade, “It just takes some kids longer.” In third grade, “So he won’t be at the top of his class in math. (Yeah, duh!)” We then paid for him to go to an after school program at the cost of over $400 per month to learn his multiplication tables which the district could not manage to teach him. In fourth grade, he really started slipping but it was “Well, we can’t do anything now because he isn’t failing.” The rage I felt was immense. We were trying to be proactive but the district wouldn’t take our son’s lack of being able to understand and apply concepts seriously. By fifth grade they couldn’t quite ignore it anymore but their solutions and IEP goals were meaningless. He is now in 8th grade and doing math at a 4th/5th grade level. SIGH. I can also say the pathway has been similar for reading and comprehension but not as difficult or severe. In retrospect, the things we would do differently are numerous including taking the school district to Due Process. But the end result is that we have refused to sign his IEP for more than two years and continue to work with an outdated one.This, of course, is beginning to make the district nervous for what it means for them should we instigate legal action.

One of the things we have been fighting for is a GOOD educational/cognitive/psychosocial assessment of our son as we have disagreed with the district’s findings. We feel this is the best way to discover the issues that are effecting his learning and how he needs to be taught to reach his full potential. We have had a well-known and respected doctor in mind to do this assessment who specializes in kids with multiple “things” going on and have been fighting for the district to get him seen by him. Thus far the school district has refused citing their policy (which is illegal, BTW) that IEE’s must be performed within 60 miles of our home. If you understood where we are located you would also know that these types of services are not available here.

It has been a long, hard road with often disappointing results and constant stonewalling from our school district. But after all this time we were just notified that they have agreed to this testing and with it comes a very belated victory for our child which has cost him dearly due to these very purposeful tactics and delays.

Unfortunately, no family should have to go through this. Yes, we have at times hired a lawyer to push our case but the cost is immense and we see very little action for the money spent. School districts often stonewall because most parents cannot afford legal services, they don’t understand the law and districts know that most parents get weary of fighting “the machine” and give up. It’s hard not too. When you are already struggling at home because of the way your children’s disabilities impact your home life taking on a huge school district seems impossible and the educational system counts on that. Yet, by not doing right by our children it puts a future drain on our economy because these kids get discouraged by their lack of understanding/comprehension/accomplishment and drop out of school. They then face a life-time of unemployment or underemployment and the use of social services that could have most likely been avoided had they had some measure of success in school. Prison and gang activity is also a direct measure of the failure of the educational system.

I wish I could say it has been easy but I can’t. In fact, fighting this battle against the local school district has contributed to our ‘almost divorce.’ But I do urge all parents out there to continue to fight for their children’s place in the educational system. I have to believe that eventually we will make a difference.

 

 

Oxytocin TherapyFor People With Autism

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 3 Comments

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Several years ago we asked our doctor about using oxytocin a/k/a the “LOVE Hormone” with our sons. At that time the doc said he wasn’t convinced regarding it’s effectiveness and wanted to see more studies. Well, start writing on the prescription pad, Doc, because the results are in.

According to a recent study released by the University of Sydney using one squirt of oxytocin in each nostril twice a day changes how children with autism approach the world and their relationships in it. Both parents and clinicians reported that children with autism were more socially responsive after beginning oxytocin therapy. Increased memory, eye gaze and emotion recognition were just a few of the benefits reported.

In case you haven’t noticed I am all in and the next time we visit our doc I am going to ask to give it a try. It couldn’t hurt and it may do a lot to change how our interactions occur.