Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Horsing Around -- Or Not

My daughter rides horses. Big horses that weigh hundreds of pounds more than she does. She has been riding nearly four years and is one of those people that has no horse fear and some kind of extra horse sense. Have you ever really realized how big their heads are?

One day at the farm, she was brushing a big horse, and she wanted to cross over to the other side, going under the horse's head. I watched her reach down and give the horse a little scratch on its front leg, as if to say, "I'm comin' under." That was the day I knew she was a real horse person. I probably would've taken a wide walk around the back to try to avoid getting kicked. Being kicked doesn't even cross her mind.

We have conversations frequently about whether she can have a horse. I'm not in favor of the idea, for I have no clue how to care for a horse. I'm sure her riding instructor Tina would board and deal with our horse, but I have enough other things to think about and pay for. I haven't completely ruled out the option of leasing a horse once Mia is able to work at the farm to help pay for part of the lease. But I've been waiting to see if her enthusiasm for horses holds tough once the teen years hit.

Today, that enthusiasm may have taken a ding. She fell off for the first time. On to her head, complete with a short blackout, which was a big area of concern for Husband and me, of course. When I picked her up from her riding lesson, she was sobbing and her head hurt. Tina said she thought the helmet took the brunt of the fall, but the fear of a concussion was real -- especially given all the media hype over the death of Natasha Richardson. Plus, a teacher at Mia's school recently died of head trauma after falling from a ladder in the auditorium. So our anxiety over head injuries is a little heightened.

More than anything, she was shaken that it had happened and already worried about next time. She did get back on the horse for a walk around the ring today, and says she'll go back next week, but not with the same certainty, I'm sure. I asked her what made her get back on, and she said it was because I've always told her that's what you have to do when you fall off. I wonder if that's really good advice. After all, it's the grandmother of all advices, isn't it?

We watched her all evening or any signs of a concussion, and I think she's fine. Not bouncing off the walls by any means, and she got herself emotionally worked up again before going to sleep. We will likely wake her up in a few hours to make sure she wakes up (advice from nurse grandma and doctor grandpa). I also asked that next time she falls, she sprains something and keeps her head out of the way. She didn't think that was funny.

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Sunday, May 24, 2009

On Happiness

The Sun magazine publishes quotes on its back page every issue. The May issue's quotes addressed happiness, and I found a few I wish I had said:

"I have to tell you something. I cannot help being happy. I've struggled against it but to no good. Apart from an odd five minutes here and there, I have been happy all my life. There is, I am well aware, no virtue whatever in this. It results from a combination of heredity, health, good fortune, and shallow intellect." -- Arthur Marshall

"To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer, to not love is to suffer, to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy then is to suffer. But suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore to be happy one must love or love to suffer. Or suffer from too much happiness." -- Woody Allen

"It's good to be just plain happy; it's a little better to know that you're happy; but to understand that you're happy and to know why and how...and still be happy in the being and the knowing, well that is beyond happiness, that is bliss, and if you have any sense you ought to kill yourself on the spot and be done with it." -- Henry Miller

"Hoping to live days of greater happiness, I forget the days of less happiness are passing by." -- Elizabeth Bishop

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Thursday, May 14, 2009

Wild Pitch


After a late finish to a baseball game tonight, Will came home and went straight to his bedroom for PJs. I was in there already with Max, and with only one look at Will's face...

"What's wrong?"

He burst into big tears. "I was pitching tonight, and one of the other kids starting laughing at me....I pitched to two people didn't throw any strikes."

It was his pitching debut, and he took himself out of the game. I have a feeling he won't step up to the mound again. All because of an insecure little wiseass kid bully who needs to be hit by a good, hard wild pitch. Shit like this breaks my heart and does not take me to a place of compassion for those who need a solid infrastructure and positive role models.

I offered up the wisest things I could think of (when really I wanted to unleash some f-words): that kid's just plain mean, and mean people suck; that maybe Will's naturally a first baseman and not a pitcher; that pitching takes a lot of practice. Then Husband (who had no idea Will was upset during the game) pointed out that in the post-game relay race, the kid fell on his face and started crying because he lost the race for his team. That gave us a whole new line of karma material to work with.

I have half a mind to complain to the kid's coach about his player’s bad sportsmanship, but I won’t be a whiny, overbearing, overprotective parent.

The only thing I can do that makes any sense is to offer Will a place of safety, support, and encouragement where he's the greatest oldest son on the planet and can burst into tears and let it all hang out and still feel worthy when he experiences the injustices of being a kid. Still feel worthy. That's what I want most for my boy.

Tonight, I think we helped repair his hurt feelings with a warm shower and some apple strudel toast. Because I think the feelings may have been under some stress from being tired and hungry. Tomorrow, maybe we'll practice throwing wild pitches. (Kidding...mostly.)
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