The funniest story of the week...

Why hello there.

You thought I fell off the face of the earth, huh?

Nope.  Just living out my crazy life.  And being frustrated.  And angry.

But, today, I don't want to dwell on those things.

Today, like 10 minutes ago, I submitted my application to an ultrasound technician program.  FREEDOM!

It's quite the feeling.

And, for the body of today's post, I want to share with you a situation that happened during our 6 and under practice this morning:

One of the mentors, Cody, was helping me in lane 5.  Jason and Madelyn (both age 6) are swimming in his lane.  I was having them practice starting off of the blocks and swimming the entire length of the pool.  Since this is Madelyn's first year of swimming, she's not quite 100 percent confident about diving.  The girl has no fear, however, about belly flopping every time she jumps in.  A lot of our 6 and unders dive this way.  Let's just say I get quite wet during this practice.

Anyway, I was telling Madelyn that her hands, not her feet, needed to go into the water first.  When I was done telling her this, Jason decided to help her get into the correct position and pushed her bottom into the air.  HA!  Jason has 5 brothers - so he's not really around girls that much.  Later, after Madelyn and Jason swam their lap and walked around the pool, I told Jason that he was not allowed to touch another girl's bottom ever.  His response?  He just grinned.  These kids.  They're so funny!

So after yet another lap of freestyle, I ask Jason if he thinks Madelyn is pretty.  His response was something along the lines of this: "She would be pretty if she wore a tuxedo!"

Oh man.  I was cracking up.  Cody was as well.  Later, after re-telling his mom about our conversation, she laughed with us.  What a funny little kid!

I hope you all enjoy that story as much I had experiencing it.  It makes these last few practices a little more bearable...

Respect

My heart is pounding in my chest.  If only I could really say what I want to say to you.

I'm hurt. Disappointed.

But most of all, I'm disrespected.

And if that has ever happened to you, time and time again, I'm pretty sure that you start thinking you're not worth anything either.  Your opinion doesn't matter.  Your experience doesn't mean anything.

Nada. Zippo.  Zilch.

Let's just say I'm *this close* to starting a countdown to the end of June.

I'm tired of being told what I think, say and desire doesn't matter.  Because you're wrong.  You can't see it now. But you will.

And by then, I'll be long gone.

Anxiousness

I'm sitting here, doing my anatomy work...watching the clock go by.  

And the closer the time gets to 2:45, which is when I get ready for swim practice...the more anxious I get.  

I should be thinking about napping after only getting 5ish hours of sleep last night.  

But, alas, I'm nervous about practice.  

Well, not practice.  I can coach.  I like that part.

I'm nervous about what could potentially go wrong and be "my fault".  

Or making a decision that someone doesn't necessarily agree with.  

I'm weary of being picked on.  I wish coaching was all I had to handle.  

Maybe then I wouldn't be so nervous.  

Being a leader is hard.  

Especially as a single woman.  The whole situation would be different if I was married and not living at my parent's house.  Maybe if I had a baby...I wouldn't get asked, "Have you ever coached a team before?" It's insulting.  Yes, I'm young.  No, I don't have my own family yet.  But yes, I am qualified to do this job well (14 years of experience on a pool deck isn't enough, eh?!).  

I guess I'm frustrated with the double standard.  

I am an adult.  

I am fully capable of making decisions.  

And teaching kids how to swim well.  

Stop asking if I'm competent.  I wouldn't be there if I wasn't.  

(I just want to say that I'm not saying these things out of arrogance.  I am really struggling with my identity.  And I know that I can do these things.  I just haven't been given the time to prove who I am to the right people.)

A Weary Heart

Changes.

They're hard.

Sometimes, really hard.

They represent the unknown.

The uncertain.

Maybe they're good.

Or they could be bad.

They can make life go in different directions.

They cause people to change.

Maybe for the better.

But maybe for the worse.

They can cause wounds.

Physical.

Emotional.

Psychological.

People can be against changes...just because it's different.

It's not worse.  It might be better.

But their eyes are unable to see.

So, here, in this battlefield, change is just change.

And there is opposition.

Which makes "going on" even harder.

It makes one question decisions.

But upon further inspection, there could have been no changes.

Change is change.

And regardless of what people may say, it's not widely accepted.

If my position was held by anyone else, they would encounter the same opposition.

So it's not me.

It's just that I happen to represent change.

And it's hard to keep making myself believe that.

First Meet

It's hard to put into words the mix of emotions that have transpired over the course of the day.

It started at 5:30 this morning when I got out of bed.  I was nervous.

I arrived home after 2 pm this afternoon with my lunch from Chic-Fil-A in hand.  I was defeated.

In those 8 and a half hours, lots of different things happened.  But mostly, when I arrived home this afternoon, I felt like collapsing, bawling my eyes out, and then sleeping the rest of the day.  As a wrote earlier, I was defeated.

And then I took a 3 hour nap.

To any who has never been a swim coach, it would probably be hard to understand.  I've had that conversation with another swim coach recently.  Until you actually live in my shoes and see the way things work from this side, it's just hard to understand.  Even as a swimmer, I never understood why my coaches did certain things until I became a coach.  And then everything started to be clearer.

Here's to hoping this week at practice is productive and worthwhile.  I just don't know how many more "todays" I can take.

Recently

I know it's been awhile since I last posted.  I owe that to the fact that I was unmotivated and my life is actually boring away from College Station.

My daily schedule (because I know that you want to know):
7:30 am - Alarm goes off.  I snooze until 8
9:30 am - When I actually get out of bed after "snoozing" for 2 hours. [just realized what a funny word snooze is.]
9:30 am to 12 noon - Eat breakfast, maybe shower (the convenience of having an outside job that involves a pool), and contemplate lunch
12 noon to 2:45 pm - Run errands, check email, facebook, my google reader, and perhaps read some
2:45 pm - Alarm goes off to tell me that I should get ready for swim practice
3 pm - The time I actually get ready for practice
3:10ish - Leave for swim practice
3:30ish - Arrive for practice
4 to 7ish - Coach swim practice
7:30 to 8ish pm - Eat dinner
8 to 10 pm - watch tv with parents
10 to midnight - read and go to bed

Exciting, right?  Nope, not really.  That is, until yesterday.

It was a normal day....until around 2:50 pm when my dad called to tell me that my little sister, L, is headed to a general surgeon in CS because Beutel (the health center on campus) can't figure out what's wrong with her.  Her white blood cell (the disease fighters in the body) numbers are huge and she's in a lot of abdominal pain.  We think it could be appendicitis.  I proceed to send out a mass text message to get many of my friends praying for her.  I get ready to go to swim practice.  I remember in the process of getting ready that I have to feed Molly because no one is going to be home until way after dinner time.

Dad was originally going to CS to move L back home.  He had left much earlier than anticipated b/c she was going to the hospital.  We didn't know if they would even be home that night.  Mom had an Aggie Mom's meeting - so she wouldn't be home until after 9.  I had to handle meet entries for Saturday's meet with the assistant coach...so I didn't know when I would be home.

Nonetheless, I fed Molly and took her out to take care of her business, and then she needed to be cleaned up.  Gross.  Butt baths?  Worst part of having a dog.  I leave quite late for swim practice.  I arrive only 10 minutes early and get bombarded with questions and things to do.  Normally, I arrive 30 minutes early so things like that don't happen.  I seriously wanted to just about scream.

The keys to the pool had gone MIA the night before - so people were asking to have the bathrooms unlocked...and I couldn't do it because the keys were missing!  So that was frustrating.  And then I'm told that a form was due the previous day to the Division.  They have to check out our backgrounds...or something.  But I had to get things ready for practice...and I was late.  And my little sister was going to the hospital and I couldn't help but wonder about her and how she's doing.

Practice starts a few minutes late...and I don't hear anything from my dad until the start of the last practice.  It's not appendicitis.  But it might be an ovarian cyst that ruptured.  She was going to have a CAT scan, and depending on the results, might be allowed to go home that night.

Practice ends, and I go to work on the meet entries at a local McDonald's with the assistant.  My dad informs me it was indeed an ovarian cyst that ruptured and they are keeping her overnight for observation because of her internal bleeding.  So...she's going to be alright.  Good.  That was around 7.

Come 10 pm (when McDonald's apparently closes in that part of town), and Will and I are still working on entries.  I leave there around 10:10 and get home at 10:35 pm to finally eat dinner.  Whew.  I was exhausted! Around 11pm, my dad calls to say that he's leaving CS to come home...

I don't go to bed until after he's home...say like 12:30ish?  I don't wake up until 9:30 this morning (after snoozing).

What a crazy day!  I'm glad to say that L is officially now out of the hospital, checked out of her dorm, and moving home as I type.  They should all be home soon.

And that was only Tuesday...

Purpose

Recently, in the last few days, I've been contemplating a lot about life's purpose.  What to do with one's life.  How to make it meaningful.  What about the impact to other people?

Ever since Friday and finishing my job at TTI, I have my mornings free.  And as a person who was really bad at being jobless last September, I can see why.  When I was in school, the purpose was to study and pass my classes.  That meant I could sleep in and do whatever I deemed important in my free time.  When I sleep in now (let's say 9), I feel guilty.  There's no purpose to what I'm doing.  I've resigned myself to sit around and wait for the time to get ready for practice.  Sure, there are some little things to do, like going to the store and doing laundry.

And tomorrow morning I get to spend some time at the beach with my dad.  Woohoo!  And then Thursday is my best friend's birthday.  So I'll be busy going to see her as she experiences her first taste of 22.  Happy Early Birthday, Leslie! 

Waiting.  That's what I'm doing.  I'm waiting for the Lord to reveal the next thing.  I'm trying to be patient and seek what He has planned.  He didn't have it in His plans for me to go to China.  He did have it in His plans for me to be a swim coach and grow in my leadership skills.  Living back in parent's house wasn't in my plans...and yet, here I am.  And it's been good.  At this point in my life, I feel like I'm more able to spend time with my parents as friends and not necessarily living out the normal parental roles.  It's been surprisingly fun.  And even when we're all tired after working and doing stuff all day, we can stand around and clean the kitchen together after dinner.  It's good.

Waiting.  It's hard...and already, I feel a little restless.  Maybe I should get up and go run those errands now.  Ready, Set, GO!