Difference Between W and L

Yesterday I re-learned the importance of speaking up for myself.

Because I didn't.

And it cost us an L on our tennis score sheet, instead of a W.

As I've mentioned, I'm on a tennis team. It's a beginner-level team; it's only in the last two years that I've learned to play this fabulous sport that I can't believe took me so long to discover. Ostensibly, the other teams we play are also beginners. Yet that's not really the whole story. Some players are actually new to the sport, like me. However, others are experienced, but choose to stay in our league for various reasons - maybe they don't have time to commit to higher-level play, or perhaps they're recovering from an injury, for example. And not knowing our opponents, we don't know if they're new to the sport or actually quite experienced.

In our match yesterday, the opposing team interpreted one rule of play differently from our interpretation of it. Although we have the right to request a review of rules at any time during play, we chose not to exercise that right. I can't speak for my partner's thinking, but as for me, I thought we were right, yet didn't trust myself. And since I'm relatively new to the sport, I thought it might be possible that we were the ones who had misinterpreted the rules and that they - perhaps more experienced - knew better. And neither one of us wanted to make waves, or to be troublesome. So we deferred to their rule of play without dispute.

And we kept playing, against our better judgment.

That decision caused us to lose at least two games. By losing those two games in the first set, we lost that set, which otherwise we would have won. We easily won the second set, and time was running out. Had we won both sets, we would have won the match with no need to begin play on the third set. We would have scored a "W"in!

However, we didn't speak up. So we lost the first set, and won the second, forcing us to start play on a third set, though we had only a few minutes left of play. We fell just shy of a winning - we "L"ost the match altogether.

I could have kicked myself.

And not necessarily over the loss (though I would have much preferred to win). The kick would have been for not speaking up when I knew I was right. (And I was right - I looked it up in the rulebook as soon as I got home.)

This is such a common theme in my life: I prefer not to make waves, then regret not having spoken up sooner. Well, to be honest, I am much more assertive as a 40-year-old than I was as a 20-year-old. I have learned this lesson before.

Sometimes I guess I just need to learn it again.

Spoiled

Not the milk.
Not the children. (Though that might be debatable, but not today.)

It's the dog.

My parents sometimes watch the kids and the dog when my husband and I travel. There is no dispute that it's an bonafide Law of Grandparenting that they may spoil the children - and, by extension - the dog when the parents are away. That's a fair tradeoff, right? We get to escape for a few days and the kids get treats and special favors while the grandparents are granted full immunity.

Then we - the parents - come home, the grandparents hand the kids and dog over to us, and life goes back to normal. For all of us, that is, except Bentley.

He loves his Grammie and Papa. And he loves their special dog food (that's waaaay better than what he gets at home). And he loves that they'll stop whatever they're doing to pet and talk baby-talk to him. Why wouldn't he expect such royal treatment at home?

So we're going through a bit of a whiny stage with the dog right now. A little bit of retraining is needed.

Never fear: We should have our favorite canine cutie retrained and unspoiled just in time for the next hand-off...

I'm Pondering

... this question: Am I a procrastinator or do I perhaps have undiagnosed ADD?

And the thing is, I wouldn't even be pondering this question except for the fact that I have a deadline of a first draft of a story/novella/book chapter due by midnight Sunday, and I just can't seem to actually write it.

Well, it's not like I haven't done anything. I've worked and reworked the story outline in my mind. Discussed it with my husband for feedback and tweaking. Written an incomplete synopsis of the plot, characters, action, etc.

But the actual story that's due? Nope - can't seem to get that on paper.

Instead of writing today, first I helped man a water stop for a local run/bike race. Then drove my son to appointments. Then did laundry. Ate lunch. Read the paper. Wrote this blog entry...

Which led to pondering the question above: Am I procrastinating? Or do I have some undiagnosed attention disorder that is causing me to be unable to sit and do the work?

DOES IT MATTER?!?!?!

I should take some advice from High School Musical's Troy when he sings: "Get your head in the game!" He is so wise. And cute.

Oooh, maybe I should YouTube that song.

Aaack! It really doesn't matter whether I'm procrastinating or exhibiting signs of ADD. The fact is, I'm a college student again and I have a paper to write. I HAVE to write it.

OK, giving myself a kick in the pants now. Logging off now. Getting to work now. No more fun for me now. So long!

Fish Out of Water

Why exactly did I get the bright idea to go back to school?

I have 2 degrees already. That should be enough. I have a husband, three children, a house, and a dog. They keep me busy enough. But no... I wanted more.

Today was my first day at U.C., and boy did I feel like a fish out of water! I definitely look too old to be a traditional student - yes, I was called "ma'am" at the bookstore by the young cashier - yet I guess I don't look like a teacher, either. Probably most of the young 'uns just thought I was lost.

Which I was. For 40 minutes.

You see, up until now I didn't have a reason to visit the U.C. campus. So the names of the buildings, the parking garages, the side streets - even some of the major ones - are completely foreign to me. I don't have a mental image of the layout, and nothing seems familiar. I guess I fit in with the freshmen more than I thought. Except they probably at least know where the bars are...

And although, under any other circumstances, I would not be ashamed to pull out my handy-dandy map, I was mortified to do so today. I felt totally like a guy in this regard. Sorry for the sexism there. Not that I'm not going to retract it.

So I decided to just head in the direction of my building, feeling sure that signs would lead me to the right building. In my optimism, I figured I had enough time to buy my books (in yet another building of unknown locale) and get to class on time. I had 45 minutes.

44 minutes later, huffing & puffing, I barely made it into my classroom before class started. Without my books. It seems I took the loooooong way around campus. Yep, that's where my hubris and stubbornness got me. If only I'd looked at that map...

Once inside the classroom, I looked around and received visual confirmation that, yes, I was the oldest student in the room. I suspected I was older than the professor, too. Came to find out later we're the same age... so we tied for being oldest in the room. But I still hold the record for oldest student.

In actuality, I enjoyed being in class with all those "kids." They have such optimism and creativity and eagerness to show what they can do. They seem like a great bunch of young people.

Then the professor went over the syllabus. Which, evidently, was e-mailed out last week, complete with a description of our first assignment. That was due today. That I didn't know about because I didn't get the e-mail message and it never occurred to me that I should get an e-mail from the teacher before the first day of class. This student was not off to a very impressive start.

Not to fear: I wasn't the only student in this dilemma. There were three other students trying to get into the class. Since they weren't on the roster yet, they hadn't received the e-mail either. We winged it.

But this is serious stuff! I've been away from college for so long that I've forgotten how complex and time-consuming the assignments can be. Will be. For me. In fact, what am I doing writing this blog entry? I have no time for this! I should be writing my first draft of my first assignment already!

Despite my slight trepidation, I'm so excited to be back in the classroom. The new ideas, the discipline, the deadlines, even the hard work are just what I need right now.

But I'm sooooo glad I registered on the late side and got closed out of two other courses I wanted to take. I think, for my first dive into these waters, one course will be plenty.

PS - After class, I evidently took the direct way back to the parking garage. 7 minutes was all it took.

Compliment of Fear

"I'm afraid of you at the net!"

Considering all the silent berating I'd given myself during the previous 90 minutes of tennis team practice - working myself up into a real funk over every missed ball and every hit "out of the ballpark" - the compliment just made my day!

It was from my teammate: my more experienced, much-better-player teammate who was my opponent at various times during team practice.

I've been trying to become more assertive at the net. So I guess it's working :)

Puzzler

I've mentioned before that I like puzzles. Not jigsaw puzzles, but real-life puzzles.

I affectionately refer to one of the twins as "My Little Puzzle" because her abilities and her needs are so inconsistent and non-transparent at times, requiring Mom & Dad - and teachers, and doctors, and therapists - to really put on their thinking caps to find the most creative and effective ways for her to learn. This puzzle is one I've been working on for 10 years now, with another 10 ahead of us. Did I mention I'm also a patient person?

I enjoy the puzzle of creating a space that is functional yet visually pleasing in my home. Starting with a needs assessment, I then create a "must-have" list and a "nice-to-have" list from that, and then start the fun work of designing or locating just the right construction and objects to meet the goals. Seems I typically have one of these projects going at any given time, and the present is no exception.

But one of my favorite puzzles is that of travel. We like to travel, and we try to vary our trips. We'll plan trips together as a nuclear family, as a couple, with friends, with extended family, or girls-only/boys-only. We mix short jaunts with longer expeditions. Sometimes the objective is simple R&R. Sometimes it's adventure. Sometimes it's educational. Sometimes it's just 'cuz we're curious 'bout some other place.

{Not that we've been everywhere and seen everything - there are many of you out there who nearly have. Far from that, we merely aspire to see and do as much as we can with our budget and time constraints.}

The one thing our trips have in common is that we typically choose independent over organized travel. Not that we haven't done or wouldn't do tours or all-inclusives - we enjoy them, but don't choose them very often. For an excursion to Antarctica or an African safari, both of which I hope to do someday, I wouldn't hesitate to call in the pros.

But for the type of travel we do now, I really get a charge out of piecing together the elements of a trip that work for us! I like getting input from the kids about where they'd like to go next, then embarking on hours and hours of research on the history of a place, transportation options, accommodations, attractions that will keep the kids' interest at their current ages, and more. It's fun to talk to people who have already been or lived there; they always have the most wonderful insight into a place! I do a draft of a trip itinerary, go a little crazy with the details, scratch the whole thing out, obsess over it for a while, then watch the plan fall into place (usually).

{Of course, in typical "Kim" style, I'll work out just about every single detail to a "T" - with alternatives, of course, since it's nice to have choices depending on moods or weather - but leave out something relatively big (like that time when we got all the way to Italy before we booked a hotel room in Rome...). But it all works out in the end, and it's actually more adventuresome to leave a detail or two to serendipity.}

We're starting to work out plans for 2010 travel, and I'm in the sublime state of obsession with one of the more challenging plans. Whereas the task at first seemed too complex and overwhelming (I almost - that's almost - called a travel agent though I'm glad I resisted the impulse), I now have a handle on it and am blissfully able to sort out the "probably yes" pieces from the "not this time" ones. For me, working through a challenging puzzle is so much more mentally satisfying than simply calling in the experts!

OK, now, back to my puzzle...

Addiction

I'm addicted to my running log.

Well, it's more than just a running log. I keep track of all my workouts - running, tennis, strength training, etc - in the online log. Then I can view the data via a calendar display; a chronological list of workouts; a graph of types of runs; summary stats by the week, month, and year; and more. Many people who work out regularly, particularly if they're training for specific events, keep a log of some type. So this is not that unusual.

But I realized today that I actually have an addiction to it. As soon as I'm done with a workout, I feel a compulsive need to immediately go to the computer, log the details of the workout, and then view the historical data. And when I view them in "calendar" mode, I must see an entry for at least 6 days each week. (I do allow myself an "off" day the day before a long run.) Or else I just feel... blah.

Guess I'm just a geek at heart. I like to make lists of things I'm going to do, and I like to keep an archived record of what I've done. And then I like to analyze the data, looking for trends, progress, challenges... Yeah, that's pretty geeky. {But then, those of you who know me well are not exactly shocked by this revelation, are you?}

Yesterday, I cancelled my appointment with my trainer and skipped a short run because I was feeling melancholy. And I was completely OK with that, given the circumstances.

But then I woke up today and felt restless. I had to get outside to run. And I had to see that run recorded on my log.

As addictions go, this one's not really so bad, is it?