Not a whiner nor a worrier be

I try not to whine. Much

I am not a natural born worrier. Really.

Right this very moment I am going to do both.

Four weeks ago I was sitting on my porch, having coffee with a couple of friends when I felt a twinge in my back. I thought it was because I had been sitting in a cheap plastic chair for too long( I gave up the good rockers to the company.. I'm nice like that). I shifted in my seat, and finally stood up to relieve the pain. I didn't really give it too much thought at the time. However over the last few weeks I think of it a lot.

My friend Tracy, in jest, might say that it was karma biting me in the back. I had teased her about this very coffee meeting. She wanted to come but couldn't. I exploited that fact. We took that picture just to tease her. I'm not nice like that.

My friend Jennifer, also joking around, might say she would trade what happened to me over what was happening to her at that time. She was in lock-down at an area Walmart that had received a bomb threat.

What happened to me? I have no idea. But over the last four weeks I have gone from thinking I had pulled a muscle, to scheduling an MRI for later this week. After going my usual medical route ( posting on facebook and seeing what the old wives and others have to offer in the manner of therapies.. and trying THEM ALL), I finally went to see my doc. The pain was still in my lower back. She tested me for kidney stones and sent me home with muscle relaxer and anti-inflammatory meds. I took them for about a week. Well, I took them at times when I could be stoned for 4-6 hrs. Ok, I really didn't take too many of them. And really only recreationally. The only thing they did for the pain was make me not care that I hurt.

Over that week ,the pain began to spread from my back to my hips and then shot down my thighs whenever I sat for more than 2 minutes. This was no pulled muscle. I eat all my meals standing at the kitchen counter. I blogged once, twice now, kneeling at my desk. I watch TV laying on my stomach and spend the night waking up whenever I roll to my side or back. I never realized how many times I make the drive to my church and Noah's school. 12 minutes. Sometimes ten of those were spent with tears rolling down my cheeks.

When I finally fessed up to my friends the horror stories began. No one can tell horror stories like moms. We are jaded to most medical ailments, either having had them ourselves, or know someone who did. We flip medical terms and worse case scenarios as easily as we flip pancakes. They scared the poo out of me and made me worry. I called the doc back yesterday. After a very painful exam ( this from the woman who had a hair caught in the OBs speculum once... I know pain) she is thinking herniated disc and scheduled me for an MRI. She also prescribed another, stronger pain med.

I took my first dose and it sorta worked. yay! So I took a second dose before I went to bed thinking I might actually have a good nights sleep. And I did. It was getting out of bed that proved problematic.

I was dizzy. Not my usual, blond dizziness.. really woozy. (yes, I am blond. Dark Ash Blond.. that's what the box says!) As the morning progressed I added hot sweaty flashes to my dizzy fog. I got dressed because we had our annual furnace check up scheduled for 9 AM. Once I got through that I could lay down.

At 8:30 my body decided that the best course of action would be to vomit. Violently. As wave after wave hit me, Noah pulled on my shorts. " Mom, why is there a guy at the door?"

If anyone wants the number of the AC /Furnace repairman that comes early for appointments, give me a call.

So here we are, later that day. Of course sweats and vomiting were on the " CALL DOCTOR IMMEDIATELY" list of side effects. I spent the rest of the morning horizontal. I got up to make Noah lunch and ate a bagel. I've been flushing my system with as much water as I can. I have spoke to my doc and there is a reward waiting for me at the pharmacy: vicodin. That should hold me over til we can figure out what this is and take care of it. I'm pretty sure that is another med that will require me to time my Mom-taxi duties. I'm ok with that.



My goal for this little medical episode is that I come out the other end without any labels.I don't want to be thought a Whiner. Or a Superhero. Or a Martyr. Or a Worrier. I just want to come out with no more pain. Quickly. I hope that's not asking too much. And when I do, I'm going to have another coffee to celebrate. And maybe Tracy and Jennifer can make it into that picture.

Get Down, Get Grubby

When the kids and I arrived home from our vacation, I saw that the whole yard was brown. " It's just dormant" said Brian. My gut told me something different. Upon closer inspection I almost lost the contents of that gut. An easy tug and the brown grass came up like a carpet revealing the enemy. Grubs. The war was on.

Like most wars, this one began long before the first shot was fired. I'm the Lawn Master around here. I take pride in my attempts to keep a sea of emerald...ok, it's not that emerald. But it's my yard. Ours. No, mine. I fertilize it and weed it and mow it. My yard.



Last fall is when the back-story to this war began. I had decided that my yard would not contribute to global warming, and pollution and all that other nasty stuff that chemicals do to the environment. I was going to go green with my yardcare. It just sounds so wonderful. doesn't it? All natural, not harmful to kids or animals or our water source. Who doesn't want a green yard.. just for the color alone?



I began with internet research which led me to this site: Organic Lawncare for the Cheap and Lazy ( http://www.richsoil.com/lawn-care.jsp). Bells rang, angels sang the whole thing made so much sense. I can do this!!



I didn't jump in 100%. I took the suggestions and did some test patches on my lawn. Compost, topsoil, tall fescue seed, I did what this site suggests and was rewarded with beautiful patches of perfect grass. How easy! I could do this for my whole yard!



Come spring, empowered by the winter of yard planning, I set forth to become the first on my block to have a fabulous, and eco friendly yard. I was even contemplating placing little signs like the yard care companies do " This fantastic yard was treated with tender loving care and no chemicals".



I laid down compost, and fresh topsoil and many many pounds of tall fescue seed. When that germinated and was mowable I put down organic lawn food instead of chemical fertilizer. My grass really liked it and was rewarding me. However, the dandelion ( those yellow weeds), henbit ( those little purple weeds) and bindweed ( that viney white weed) loved it even more. The theory that the grass would ultimately take over the weeds spurred me on... for a bit.



Finally, I could take it no more and fell off the wagon. I applied (GASP!) Weed-B-Gone. Weeds died. YAY! I applied more grass food. Then life got in the way of my best intentions and the yard was on it's own .



With all the work, all the product ,all the care I put into my yard I forgot one important element: I did not apply grub killer. I didn't even think about grubs. I was wrapped up in nurturing the grass. I was so involved in my image of a ( cue echo) Green Lawn . I had complete control over the life of these larvae ( of the japanese beetle) but I ignored them. And they rewarded me with destruction when I turned my back.

I spent a week tearing up the yard, peeling away the dead grass, hauling it away and dumping 30 lbs of grub killer on the remaining yard. The next week was spent laying grass seed and dragging sprinklers around until God helped out with some much needed, and nitrogen rich, rain.

Thankfully, the work that I had done earlier this year had enriched the soil and the grass was sprouting and growing to mowing length within a couple of weeks. Even though there are weeds present, I don't mind as much. I know that the soil is good, the grass is strong and eventually I will be rewarded with a pretty decent looking yard. Maybe not the GREEN YARD I had imagined and had been so wrapped up making happen. Definitely not in the time frame I had given myself. But the yard that will grow with what I have been given: the sun, the shade, the dirt, the knowlege I posses, the time I have to spend on it, the money I have to spend on it, and the energy I have to spend on it



Kinda like parenting, huh? How often do we get so involved in OUR image of what our kids can be that we ignore what is festering inside of them? We might be encouraging and nurturing our little ones to become the people we imagine, concentrating on what the neighbors see... but there might be some unseen element inside of them that will eat away all our misspent work. It is a lesson in looking at the whole picture, not just the visible.

We are always going to be slapped upside the head with crises with our kids. But if we lay the foundation, be ever vigilant, ever aware, do the work on issues below the surface we can turn things back on track. I probably won't be the path we had imagined, but it will be the best path for them, using the elements that make them up. They may have permanent scars, like the difference in my grasses, and the ever present weeds. But that is what makes them human. That is what makes them real. Just like us.

Deep thoughts conclude here. Now I present,for your viewing and educational pleasure...... the pictorial Battle of the Grubs:

" DIE GRUBS DIE!!" is what Noah kept saying as he picked up the gross, white larvae from the dirt I exposed. He would fill the bottom of his toy wheelbarrel with them, dump them on the driveways and stomp on them. Repeat. Part of me was disturbed that my young son was so violent-- but the bigger part of me was thinking exactly the same thing. DIE GRUBS DIE!

The largest patch on the front yard. Cleared, grub killer applied and ready for new seed. There are several smaller patches elsewhere in the yard.

Noah looking to make sure the grubs are gone. I laid seed, germinating fertilizer and straw that day. I watered it all in daily, keeping the soil moist.

God rewarded my efforts with a soft, day long rain. Did you know that your yard gets green after a rain because rainwater contains nitrogen? Not so much with hose water.

The first green grass shoots appeared within the week! I did a happy dance in the yard. It wasn't pretty. I also had to keep yelling " stay off the new grass!!!" to all the neighborhood kids.

Three weeks later, the new grass is part of the lawn... actually, the best looking part of the yard.

Another patch of new yard... already being played on by the kids.

About this time I was talking to my next door neighbor and told her the Tale of the Grubs. She laughed and said " I thought you were just doing another organic grass experiment." I might get that " this yard was treated with tender loving care" sign up one of these days. Maybe two signs. They would make a good goal marker for the kids games!

Coming soon to a page near you

As of this past Monday all of my children are back at school. Tiny Tot began his Pre-K year with very little fanfare. He did ' let" me take a picture of him at home before he headed off. He isn't wearing lipstick, he cut his lip playing wiffle ball with Daddy. (For those keeping score that is Wiffle Ball Injuries 2009: 2) He probably should have had a haircut, too, but we were so laid back about his first day of school this year, all he got was a new shirt and the things on the list the teacher hands out.

Our school district has had half day kindergarten forever. Since we moved here, 8 years ago, there have been rumors aplenty about full day Kindergarten. I have heard from a very good source that next year it might happen. I don't have mixed feelings about this. Yes, he is my youngest, the last child at home during the school year ( 2 full days and 3 half days now). But he's ready. I'm ready. I've been SAHMing for 13 years now. It's time. Time for what, that is the question.

At this moment I am hopped up on pain meds which allow me to sit here for a few minutes and type. I'm waiting lab results, and may just have injured my back. Talking. Who hurts themselves talking? I'll have to come up with a good story if that is it, because wow, not that interesting.

" I was having coffee with Sally and Skye and wrenched my back sitting on the porch."

This is AFTER my week plus spent restoring my yard. While I was on vacation Brian mistook Death by Grub for Dormant By August. I ripped up half our yard, hauled the debris away, killed the grubs and have replanted my yard. Without injury. I sit on my porch I get hurt? This is my life.

Oh, and Luke has Lyme Disease and my father is, right now, in the hospital with heart problems. No drama in this family.. nope. None here.

Anyway---- All I can offer up today is a list of topics I will be monologuing in the near future:

- My quest to find what the heck I am going to do with my time once all the kids are in school.

- A battle by battle description, of the War of the Grubs. I think there is a parenting lesson in that.

- My Oldest Child is a Teen. And it doesn't Suck.

- My Middle Child: Lovable Goof or Button Pusher?

-My Youngest Child: Where did you learn THAT??

- Halloween: Protecting my SAHM Cred by making yet another costume.

- Lots and lots of gushy stuff about the amazing people in my life.

- Rants about people who think RULES only apply to others. Or Drop Off Lane Drama

- My desire to get some sort of part time work so that I can afford a vacation next summer. We have tasted this life, and it is good.

- The many illnesses of the Family of a Germaphobe ( who already had us all get our flu shots).

Thank you for checking back in here. Like every other parent, I am amazed how quickly the " free" time gets filled up. The vision of me posting entries as soon as the kids went back, wasn't realized. What else do I have wrong???

Oh, it's time.

Someone needs some schoolin'

Bek is trying on hairstyles and debating the merits of one style over the other: ” I like to look respectful for the first week as the teachers make their first impressions, and then I like to POP out the edge later in the school year...”

Luke is smelling his shirts, trying to find the one that has just the right “ Odor du Fifth grader”

Noah is telling me that he “ won’t be my baby anymore because I’m going to Pre-K..”

It’s back to school time.

The two oldest went back today. Noah will go back in a couple of weeks. Most years at this time I am more than ready to see them go. They are bored. I am bored. It’s hot. We ran out of activities a month ago and the start of school is a welcome event. Not this year. I actually have enjoyed their company this summer. We had so many more things we wanted to do that we never got around to. I thrived on the “ sure you can stay up until the end of this movie..” quality this summer possessed. We traveled, we recreated, we summered and I wasn’t ready for it all to end.

But end it must.

Yesterday, I followed the kids around and came up with a list of reasons why I am ready for school to start. The negatives of this summer full of positives. Things to prove to myself that we are all ready. Ready for schedules, and rules, and structure, and a life not centered around the kids if only for a few hours.

Why It Is Time:

* Mystery stains on the carpet
* Plastic wrappers in the oddest places... none of which being a trash can.
* Beds unmade mere minutes after being made
* Every TV set blaring Sponge Bob/icarly/Zac & Cody/Most Extreme/SpikeTV
* Luke mood swings
* Bek mood swings
* Mom mood swings
* The contents of the Craft Corner in the basement being hauled in a steady stream up the stairs, through the living room and out the door.
*The sound of the hose being turned on and Noah screaming “ LUUUKKKKEE! I’m getting Weeeetttt!”
*A non stop stream of really elaborate business plans to raise money so they can get( insert really pricey item here)
*Never being able to leave a room mid-All My Children.. because the channel will be changed. I really think that I shouldn't’t have to schedule my pee in my own house!
*Tennis Elbow from grabbing a kid about to leap off the porch railing.
*House shaking door slams
*The Nothing Chorus. “ We have nothing to do, we didn’t do nothing, what are we doing-- bang bang thud thud-? Nothing.”
*Realizing that I have not heard a peep from Beks for hours and finding her in her room, hiding behind her laptop-- where she was 6 hrs before not having moved at all. What is the appeal of Pixie Hollow? Anyone?
*The cornucopia of debris laying under the sofa cushions
* Running the dishwasher twice a day


So today came. And I have already had to refer to my list more than once. But Beks just got home, and Luke will be here momentarily.. I'm sure I can start a new list before dinnertime.

First day of 5th and 7th grade: 2009

Special Thanks for inspiration go to this pretty awesome blog:http://momentarymoments.blogspot.com/2009/08/not-alone.html

Adventure 2009: Post Script

We're VACATIONING!

All the luggage has been unpacked, the suitcases back in their basement hideaway. The souvenirs have taken places of honor on bookcases, shirt drawers, and, in my case, the garage. I collected reusable shopping bags from the many grocery stores we went to. Before you laugh, it makes a great reminder .. all have the store name or town someplace that is not where I normally shop. And, at 99cents, a frugal buy that can be used each week.

Shells, shopping sacks and t-shirts were not the only thing we brought back from our trip. Luke picked up a virus that slammed him our last day and for four more after we came home. He also had a weird reaction to some bug bites. That is one of the reasons it has taken me so long to recap our trip. The kid was a mess. So was my yard. Apparently Brian confused dormancy with death by grub. I have spent a good chuck of this week battling the grubs and fixing the yard.

We have been home for one week, Brain and Noah were very excited to see us. My Visa bill came in just days after we did, and thankfully, Brian was still in a honeymoon phase. My fretting for having gone over ( the ridiculously low) budget was unwarranted. He was ok with it. That was a surprise. Actually, the memories I have from this trip are all surprises.

*Luke did not travel well. He was out of his element, dealing with his first wave of teen hormones so most of the time I felt as thought I were trying to control him instead of enjoying things with him. I have overheard him telling people about the trip, and he is apparently a revisionist. Thankfully.

* Bekah, my worrier, loved everything. She thought she could imagine herself living everywhere we went and soaked everything in. Sure, she ate chicken ever single meal out, but she didn't complain.

*My dad waited until Day 10 before he actually did pull the car over. Instead of yelling like he had when we were kids he was silent. When asked he said" I am waiting for the back seat to calm down before I can safely drive." then more silence. oooh, that man is good. I'm gonna use that.

* That I really do like Chicago more than New York. And I am ok admitting it

* That I would feel guilty when I missed more than a couple days of blogging. I thought a few short postcard blogs from the road, but reading back it was more than I had expected. Posting meant more to me. The emotions behind the words were deeper than I had expected And that you followed the trip with us meant the world to me.

* The thing that struck me the most with a SURPRISE! was that even though I didn't have a lot planned other the where we were stopping, when things didn't go according to plan it was ok. Our group could roll with the changes and have more fun than we could ever have planned for.

Here are some snapshots of our trip, a final montage. Get your favorite vacation song running in your head and take a look at some of the things I will remember from this wonderful, special summer adventure.

Our first stop was the arch in St Louis..we didn't go inside but we sure took a lot of pictures!

Getting to spend so much time with my parents was my favorite aspect of the trip. We were living together and exploring together and I will cherish each moment.. even the not so great ones. This was mom and I on the Night of the Chipmunk:

Seeing people that I had not in far too long was one of the things I was most looking forward to, and it didn't disappoint. I think they were as excited to share their worlds with me as I was to see how they were doing. My college roommate , Sharon, and her husband Ford went above and beyond to make us comfortable.

Bek, Mom, me and Sharon ended a day of NYC sightseeing with a view of Lady Liberty from the NJ side. Sometimes you get the most out of an experience when you look at it in a different way than most people do.

When we went to Lake Winnipesaukee we got to see relatives that my kids had never met. My Aunt Mary, Mom, Cousin Carrie and her daughter as we waited for my uncle to bring his boat around for a ride. Carrie and I should get together soon to get our foot tattoos!

Beks never wanted to fish with Brian here in MO, but get her to New Hampshire and she caught her first fish ever.

Another first, the kids paddling in NH. I recall this as an activity they worked together to accomplish and with no fighting. A week later and I am already revising history.

In Maine, Luke, always an adventurous eater, tried his first Lobster coached by a Master Crustacean Consumer, Skipper Dave ( My Dad)

My mother realized, a year or so ago, that she had never mini-golfed. She rectified that situation then, but this was only her second game ever. She slaughtered us.

Each morning on the boat brought coffee and checking of the days news. This is me, just after posting a blog, my father and mother. Cheers to you, folks... and to YOU FOLKS for being a part of my journey.

A Tale of Two Trains

It was the best of rides, it was the worst of rides....



When we were planning our trip we had to get from Boston to Kansas City. If we could stop in Chicago on the way back, all the better. Car was out unless we rented one since we had to leave the Volvo with my parents in Maine. Plane was an option, but that would be costly with a stop in The Windy City. Beks also isn't so crazy about plane travel these days. If getting her on a plane was anything like getting her an immunization, it would require 5 flight attendants, a pilot and a mom. Or a kiddie xanax. Then someone suggested train travel. Both Bek and Luke thought that sounded like a real adventure. When I looked into fares, there was no other option. Amtrak it is!



There was only one train from Boston to Chicago. It left at 11 AM. Or 11 and some numbers so just round it to 11 AM. I'm not mathy. I'm also pretty good at laughing at myself because those " some numbers" were :55. We didn't realize this until after all of us were loaded into the car at 5:30 AM for the 3-4 hour drive to Boston from Southport ,ME . No one was mad.. ok, the kids were mad, but kids moods can be bought with a hot chocolate and a glazed stick from Dunkin' Donuts.



Because we had extra time, we hit no traffic whatsoever. Even with Dunkin Donuts, Rebox, and Gas stops we got to South Station with almost 2 hours to spare. Boston is a great city. It has lots of charm, history, sights and activities. It does not have a street system that a visitor can easily understand. It had been years since any of us had driven there and we had to rely on Gypsy the GPS and her quick, one- shot directions. You had best be listening! Failure to listen results in a Gypsy tantrum of " Recalculating. Recalculating.."



We drove around the same " block" for a few laps. It wasn't a square block like in most cities, but more obtuse triangle. But this is Boston, one of the oldest cities in our country, who am I to argue math semantics? I'm not mathy, remember?



Finally we accepted two facts:
1-We had found the front door to the station,
2-There was no parking anywhere.
Mom and Dad couldn't see us off from anywhere inside. It was a rolling stop/toss stuff out the back/ hug/hug/ kiss/kiss/thank you/thank you... and they were gone. The kids and I were on our own, weighted down by too much luggage, on a sidewalk in south Boston. We were sad to see my parents roll away, but excited to see what train travel had for us.



A quick and easy check in, a bathroom luggage juggle, and a snack filled our time. Our train was finally being called and we hauled all of our carry -on luggage to the track. We were not traveling light like a lot of others that we saw. We had a bag of snacks, a sleeping bag, a lap top and a portable DVD player, clothes for tomorrow,toiletries, inflatable pillows, books, games... we had tried to think of anything that would make the next 22 hrs fly by in comfort. And all the stuff that made our car trip comfortable as well. We had a lot of stuff to make us comfortable.



Comfortable was quickly out of the question. The train was full, there would be no spreading out on 4 seats like we had hoped. The seats did sort of recline, but they were too close to the neighboring seats for comfort. Even with our train training of compact travel in the backseat of the Volvo we felt claustrophobic. We were fairly close to the two restrooms for our car, and a few cars back from the snack bar. We didn't complain because we didn't know any better. We thought that this was part of the adventure of train travel. As the trained rolled on, we rolled with it.

I won't lie: we had a few moments of groaning. When we sat on the tracks for an hour someplace in the woods outside of Springfield MA, for no announced reason. When we were only in Albany,NY 8 hrs later. When the woman in the window seat, next to my aisle one, insisted on getting up at EVERY STOP to run outside to smoke...all. night. long. When we got no wifi connection anywhere. When cell calls dropped at the most crucial moments. When 2 hamburgers and waters cost 20 bucks. When Luke's acid reflux had him barfing at 11 PM. When the cabin lights were not turned off , ever. When a conductor walked through the aisle yelling " Cleveland! Cleveland! Cleveland!" at 3 AM.

Mostly we just groaned and moved on. We were not going to be complaining travelers, we were on an adventure. When the bathrooms began to smell like port-o-lets at a hot summer outdoor concert, we waited until absolutely necessary to head back there. Then those bathrooms were closed down, broken,we walked back several cars to find ones that worked. We were tired and grungy when we finally pulled into Chicago, 2 hours late, 24 hours later. We felt like train travel survivors and I was secretly dreading the other train leg.

Three days later we boarded the next, and final, train that would take us back to Kansas City. The difference in trains slapped us upside the head. This train was a double decker and we were seated on the top level. The car was smaller, had fewer passengers, although it too was full. More storage, bigger and cleaner windows welcomed us aboard. It was newish, cleaner, better smelling. I couldn't even reach the seat in front of me there was so much room! Toni the Chain Smoking Seatmate would never have disturbed my sleep. As we left Chicago's Union Station behind we still had the greatest treats ahead of us. One car ahead to be exact. The observation car.

As we walked through the door that separated us from this nirvana on rails I thought I heard an angelic choir sing some heavenly notes. Bright lights, all windows, many tables and comfy chairs for the taking awaited us. Spread out, play card games, write, watch America roll by in bright sunny comfort. This was the Amtrak of the commercials. We saw cranes that filled a pond, a crop dusting plane that skimmed our train, and a perfect sunset. We took the stairs to the snack car and so many bathrooms we never saw anyone else use. There was a dining car that took reservations, and characters on the over-com giving us updates. If we had been on this train from Boston we would have arrived refreshed, energized and 5 lbs lighter from all the exercise we had.

But we didn't know better then. It's an analogy for life, isn't it? When we know better, we do better. We expect better. That is a rough paraphrase of Maya Angelou, but fits the situation. If we had taken the trains in a different order we would have known that train travel can be comfortable when we boarded the bus on tracks. We might have actually complained out loud. But life is about living and learning and moving on. If we had not taken this second train we would be sour on this method of travel. Now we are eager to do it again.

The Old Lady and The Sea

Every New England beach has them. Senior women sporting one piece bathing suits that end in a tight skirts that cling to their thighs. Old Lady Suits. Don't be coy, you know exactly what I am talking about. These beautiful, silver haired women often sport hats, canvas with upturned brims. They have deep perma-tans from years of summers spent with no sunblock. These women can often been seen floating in the water, or swimming laps of breaststroke. Sometimes they are in pairs, but usually they are in the water alone. Floating or swimming back and forth. They are as common to New England beaches as hermit crabs and beach roses.

The tiny beach that we discovered on Southport Island, ME where we stayed on my folks boat was the quintessential New England Beach. Beach roses, pebbles, some sand, and a high tide line marked with a thick layer of beached seaweed. The kids were thrilled that it was low tide and set off to explore what would be undersea hours from now. Big crops of large boulders jutted just off the beach, accessible by wading. There were a few families at the beach this day, and maybe 15 people played and splashed in the water. I say "people"but I mean kids mostly. The parents sitting on towels or low beach chairs enjoying the summer day, but staying dry.

Family lore has me as the only kid in our family who would venture into the icy waters of coastal Maine. I was such a fish that no temperature would keep me from diving and and playing. I must have grown out of my fish tendencies sometime about the time that I gave up sleeping with my security blanket because one foot into the water and I was done.

I can not do justice to the temperature of this water by describing it. The only thing that comes to mind is that icy blast you get on the back of your throat with a first sip of a Slush, Slurpee or Frozen Cappuccino. Not cold enough to actually form ice, but you sense the presence of ice. " ICE WAS HERE". That is the temperature my foot felt.

Then Luke jumped in. I suspect that he had to pee, and he knew that was the only place he could go, but it didn't seem to bother him, that icy water. Beks was a bit more timid, but soon she too was up to her waist in the Atlantic aiming for the nearest outcrop of rock to explore. It then became my mission. If I had swam in these waters as a child, if my children and 14 others could swim in them, then I could do it today.

I say 14, but there were 15 people in the water that day. Number 15 was the Beach Woman.Black old lady suit with a deep V , orange canvas hat, permatan-- it was as if the Southport Visitors Bureau had cast her in the role of Beach Woman. She was standing in the the water just a few feet out from me and commented on my kids eagerness to climb the rocks.

She must have sensed my desire to go into the water battling with my desire to remain comfortable. It was probably the " aah! Ugh! It's coooold!" or " ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh" mantra I repeated. Or maybe it was the moans that I made with each step. She zeroed in on me and began her project for the day: Get this Midwestern mom into the water.

She started of sneaky, I didn't realize what she was doing at first. " I have heard that if you get your wrists into the water, you can cool your blood and the water doesn't feel so cold. Get your wrists in the water,"she offered as her first suggestion.

Makes sense,cool the blood. I took two more loud steps deeper in the water so that I could bend over and get my wrists submerged.

" No, you have to have them in the whole time,not just dip them" she then corrected me.

I took two more steps until my wrists were underwater and I was still standing up. I didn't feel a difference.

" You know," she said still a good 5 feet farther out and to the left of me," there is a sandbar over here it's nice and sandy, you should come out here."

The rocks were digging into my feet as I stood statue still trying to lower my body temperature. She got 3 steps out of me that time. She was still the same 5 feet away from me ,though. It was then I caught on that she was my Swim Coach. Float Coach. Maine Water Coach.

I knew that on my own, I would have high tailed it to the towel and dug my feet deep into the sand. But I also had a deep desire to get in the water. I knew I could not do it alone.

" You aren't going to believe me but there is a warm spot right here, you should come over here." I made sure Luke and his bladder were down current from me. I saw him scaling rocks not even in the ater any longer, and took the three slow steps over to her. Or where she used to be. She was now,still, 5 feet farther out than I was.

At this point, standing on the sandy bottom, I argued with myself that the water was a touch warmer at this new spot. By now I was boob deep. I never knew that a swimsuit could keep me warm until the frigid water hit my exposed back... fast deep inhale at the shock, but I didn't back down. Coach was talking the whole time, telling me she was a native, and telling me that her favorite thing to do was to sit on the beach as the tide came up and wait for the water to just lift you up. I heard about all the free band and jazz concerts in town, how wonderful the library was and where to catch a ferry to another beautiful island. All with the deep accent of someone who had lived here her whole life.Coming from the face that had gotten her base tan for the last 80 years playing, living, and raising her family by these waters.

" The bravest thing to do is to just go for it now" she cheerfully said.

And I did.

I flopped forward into the water that really wasn't that icy any more. It wasn't a dive as much as a resigned lowering. I dunked my head, rolled on my back and realized that saltwater is so much more buoyant than anything else that I swim in back home. I stared up from my salty recliner at the seagulls flying overhead, listened to the squeals of children playing nearby, and glanced at the boats sailing on on the horizon. I squinted in the bright sun and thought the only thing that would make this perfect would be a hat to shade my face. Maybe an orange canvas one like Coach wore. Coach. Her nonstop monologue had ceased. I swam around to find her and thank her for helping me realize my dream of the day, to swim like I had as a child.

She was farther down the beach. She stood knee deep in water, 5 feet out from a middle age woman in an aqua swimsuit who was just beginning her quest into the Atlantic.