Friday, November 30, 2012

The people who loved me first.


I am like my Mom 

when I am in a group of people I don't know

when I tackle a problem

when someone needs me

when I fight for what I believe in

when I stay up all night reading




I am like my Dad

when someone needs cheering up

when I get mad

when I need to diffuse a situation

when my sense of humour shows






I am me.

I am most like me when I remember that the traits of the people who loved me first, who will love me always, are woven into the fabric of who I am.

Nature vs Nurture.  A pointless debate. 

They both matter.  From the day I was born, eight minutes before my twin brother, I was a flurry of activity. I had a mass of thick hair, just as stubborn as I was. When I entered a room, I commanded it, but on my own terms.  I've never liked big surprises.  I loved being around others, but when I needed to find peace, it was, and still is, found at home. I always needed there to be music. I always needed to be moving. I spoke fast, and I spoke often. I was, and still am, quite shy in new situations, until I am comfortable - then I'm the life of the party. I used to be afraid to try new things; now I relish it. My twin brother --a strong personality in his own way--was often caught up in the whirlwind that was me. He is still one of my strongest supporters.

The constant love at home was a safe haven for me, especially in the early years of school, when I was bullied horribly.  It didn't matter what school I attended, or what city I lived in. Bullies can smell a vulnerable person a mile away.  I was called Medusa, because of my wild and thick curly hair. Kids would pretend to be turned to stone when I looked at them.  I was punched, my clothing torn.  Called names. Had things thrown at me. I was thrown in the NIM bin.  A teacher who finally rescued me said "Why would you crawl in there?", choosing not to believe that someone had put me in there when they heard the collection truck coming.

You know when it ended?  In Grade 8, when I stood up for my friend, who endured bullying as well.  Enough was enough, and I shoved one of the bullies in a locker.  She ended up stuck in the locker, her head and arm wedged in its narrow confines.  They had to cut her out.  I'm not saying it was the right way to act. But she punched my friend, and I had to make this girl, who was easily 6-8 inches taller and 40 pounds heavier than us, STOP. No one punches my friends.

At home, I was accepted for who I was, and taught to embrace my uniqueness.  I was taught to fight for what I want and to always give my best, but never to hurt someone else in the process. That it was okay to make mistakes.  That I was ok. That everything in life is a choice.

As a young girl, I was diagnosed with severe learning deficiencies.  At the time, it was a less sophisticated system.  "Borderline Retarded", they said. She'll never go to University, and she will be lucky to finish high school, they said. My parents said nothing to me. They never told me, so I didn't know. I knew I worked hard, but just assumed that was what I had to to.  A couple of years later, when we moved from Quebec to Ontario, they refused to allow my school records to be transferred. They would not allow the stigma to follow us.

I didn't know I was "dumb". I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to graduate.  So I did. I graduated from High School. I graduated from University.  By the time I was in high school, I knew I was different, and I had help, but it was ME that defied the odds.

They never told me, so I didn't know.

They chose to let me go on believing that all I had to do was work hard.  And man, did I work hard.  What took the average person 1 hour to complete, took me 2-3 hours. I had to relearn math skills over and over and over, because it never stuck in my head.

The result of their love and support, is that without even knowing it, I learned two very important lessons.

1) Anything worth doing, is worth working hard for. 

If you really want something, you figure out what you have to do to get it.  Then you do it.  More than once, as you go along, you will probably have to change what you are doing, but you keep your eye on the end goal. Changing your goal isn't quitting, its part of life.

2) You can accept the diagnosis, but you don't have to accept the prognosis

My learning disability is a fact. The scope of the learning disability is also, fact.  A rigorous testing, finally done when I was in University, shows the facts in black and white. The difference between my lowest IQ score (pattern recognition) and my highest (memory), is 136 points. Those are the facts.

Years before, my parents had chosen not to believe that I couldn't attain what anyone else could, so who was I to think any different.

This served me well when at seventeen, I was in a terrible car accident.  Even unconscious, I fought.  I fought to get better.  Then, when I was out of hospital, I fought to play flute again.  Then, I fought to walk without assistance. One doctor said, "At the rate the muscles in your leg are deteriorating, you'll be in a wheelchair by your mid thirties." So at 38 I ran a marathon.

If I had been unsuccessful; if the doctors were right, and I couldn't have played flute again, or I was typing this from a wheelchair right now, I would be okay with this.  But I wasn't going to just accept a fate that someone else decided for me.  It was, and always will be my choice to fight.

Some have said "Wow, that's some luck you have!"

They are right, I am so lucky. I have the greatest parents, I am alive, I can walk. To anyone who thinks that what I have accomplished is incredible, I must remember to tell them:

I am who I am because of the people who loved me first.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Lazy mornings and science fun!

Today I spent the whole day with my children and we didn't have to do anything. A school PD day meant the kids had no school, so I took the day off. (Thanks to all my bosses!) Nothing scheduled, nowhere we had to rush to.
 
AND MAN...DID WE HAVE FUN!

This is a rarity.  The not having to do anything part.  We frequently have fun.  Its a full on festival of shits and giggles here.  But we also run a pretty tight ship.

Between my running addiction hobby, the kids' karate lessons, Jordan's karate, my 3 jobs, my Community Action Network committments and Jordan working shift work, if we didn't run a tight ship, things would fall apart. Our schedule is the duct tape that keeps our family going!

First on the agenda was a lazy morning.  No alarms, we all woke up naturally. For me, of course, this was only 10 minutes later than I normally wake up. I turned on Canada AM and watched TV.  FROM BED!   Not too long after, the pitter patter of Corbett's feet could be heard and suddenly I had a little guy to snuggle with.

About an hour later, we decided to go downstairs for breakfast, while Zachary was still sound asleep.  About ten minutes later, Zack joined us. Lazy mornings are the best. THE BEST!

Finally, we packed up and headed out to our local Science centre, Science North, to make good use of our family membership.  Seriously, one of the best purchases EVER!

We spent a good four hours there, doing everything from petting tarantulas, visiting the butterflies, trying on moose antlers, working on our sprint starts, estimating how tall we will be when we grow up (apparently I'm done), and polishing rocks.  There was so much more we did, and so much we didn't get a chance to do!  That's the best part of the family membership.  We can go back anytime we want, so we don't have to feel as though we have missed anything.  SO. MUCH. FUN.

It really was such a great day, and something I rarely get to do--spending time, just me and the kids doing FUN stuff. Did I mention how much fun we had?

I have to make a point of doing this more often.  Anyone want to pay me to stay home?  Anyone? 

 Corbett showing off his name spelled in close ups of the patterns from butterfly wings (I think).  I am not sure why he looks so possessed/excited.
 
 Zachary showing off his name!
 
 Corbett the Moose Loves to Rock.
Apparently this Moose also begs.
 
 Zachary sports some impressive antlers. 
These things are HEAVY!
 
 Corbett's polished stone. This was a very cool workshop. Also, very messy!
The perfect boy activity.  Powertools, fast moving sanding wheels and mess.
 
 Zachary polished his all on his own, without help.
Kids 7 and under needed adult supervision, so I helped Corbett, but Z-man did great on his own.
 
 When we were done, we went over to the microscope and checked out the creations!
This is Corbett's.
 
Zachary's masterpiece.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Monster Gangnam Style!


Halloween has come and gone.  I have only eaten ONE of my children's candies.  I know. I'm a saint!

Truthfully, they don't actually have a lot of candy.  Not even enough to fill a Ziploc Freezer bag full. They are totally okay with this. 

I am always proud of them.  They do a lot of things to make me proud, but here is the latest.

They gave up trick or treating, so that they could attend a fundraiser for a baby that they haven't even met.

Seriously.  I honestly don't know if I would have done that at their age.

The karate dojo they attend, Benoit's Martial Arts, hosted a Haunted Dojo Fundraiser, with the proceeds going our Shihan's nephew, Kaden, who was born with a very rare condition.  In fact, it is so rare, that our province's health plan doesn't cover the necessary physiotherapy he requires.  You can learn more about that by visiting Kaden's webpage

When the kids mentioned they would like to go, I told them it meant that they wouldn't be trick or treating.  The dojo is about a 30 minute drive for us, so I really wasn't willing to drive for an hour (there and back), so that they could trick or treat.  It also meant that there would be no one at our house to hand out treats.  We get over 200 kids each year.

They decided that going to the fundraiser was more inportant, so that's what we did.

We had SO. MUCH. FUN.

Many people at the dojo put in a lot of work to make a Haunted House.  They determined levels of scariness (levels 1 - 5), and let the kids pick which levels they would do.

Zachary made it all the way to Level 5, Corbett stopped at Level 3.  And let me tell you...it was fantastic.  (I did Level 5.  I was able to restrain myself from punching or kicking any of the scary volunteers)

The next day, we found that the boys each won Best Costume award.  Zachary for coolest costume, and Corbett for cutest costume.




It was a great event, and most importantly, it supported a great cause.  If you wish to offer financial support to help Kaden get the therapy he needs, please feel free to donate.

Jessica