2020

My calendar stops on March 14th, the week before the State Meet. The reds blues, and greens mark my work schedule and Beach's work schedule, our appointments, Beach's gym schedule, MVP, social activities, bills due, chores, all of it frozen on a whiteboard.

Has it really been a full work week? A Monday to Monday of life altered? That was fast...

I can say that safely because no one can come close enough to me to punch me in the face.

But yes, we have had a lot going on.  I have friends on the frontline working to save as many people as they can.  And I have elderly parents sheltering in place.

I have a partner still working, trying to do it as safely as he can for everyone.  Trying to keep work going for the workers who rely on him to put food on their tables.

My oldest son is a plumber, and he is still working.

My oldest daughter has an underlying medical condition and is in quarantine, fearing for her health and her life.

 Our youngest son was sent home from college last week, but he got stir-crazy in the city so he returned to the organic farm he lives and works outside of Cedar City, Utah.

During this time, BC was forced to travel 2x.  While he was gone, we had an earthquake of 5.7.  The aftershocks are still rolling in. 

The gym sent a conditioning program to do at home for Beach.  She began running for cardio and seemed hooked.

Utah's social gathering number is 10.  As of yesterday, our death count is 1. We are the state with the highest hoarding rate in the nation.  Police are patrolling inside the stores.

We have had to shop (3x) mainly because the grown kids keep showing up (and for care packages and RX's for Alexis), and also for fresh produce.

We have socialized thoughtfully and carefully.  We have chosen our contact risks.  We have a small circle... but they also have small circles... and their small circles have small circles.  It causes a lot of jokes about Sally; if you sleep with Sally, you sleep with everyone Sally ever slept with.

When someone leaves the yard, we yell, "Remember, don't sleep with Sally!" The way I see it, it makes just as much sense as yelling "wash your hands" to someone getting in a car.

I have seen a lot of good.  I would almost say the world looks better this way.  It's slower; it's more thoughtful and more focused on what is real. Resources are respected. Errands consolidated.

I see families out on walks. I see happy dogs. I see friends and neighbors reaching out to each other. Love and caring and kites flying.

This is the slow life that I have been living behind the fast life of being a Gym Mom for nearly a decade.  We plant a big garden, we raise hens for eggs, we homeschool, we bake (a lot), and we live close to the land.  We have a freezer full of meat that BC hunted.

I feel safe in this slow world. When I look up and out over the rim of our little farmstead, I get sad.  I think about the long stretch of not having choices about living little and slow or living big and fast.

I wonder about the surrealness of an earthquake in the middle of a pandemic.  Unbelievable. (How much I would love to be able to laugh about this with Wendi; so many things she didn't live to see...)

Those who know me have been joking that I have been preparing for this my whole life.

When I was little, I had a dollhouse. Three stories high, my dad had made it for me.  The year before that, he made me a huge train track on a 4'x8' sheet of plywood and turned it into a table attached to a pulley system so I could raise it to lay flat against my bedroom wall. When the train table was down, it was level with the third floor of the tiny house.

I would set up the dolls. Tiny bottles, plates, toys, books, mini forks, tables, beds, and porcelain dolls. Then I would run the train full throttle at a blocked track calculated to derail it straight into the dollhouse and play out the disaster.

Sometimes, I would set the dollhouse up and just shake it and play an earthquake.  Or bunker the family in one room of the house and play out a blizzard.

The disaster wasn't the fun part it was the hunkering down and the gathering of resources that I liked.  I liked to feel safe by playing out survival. I am a planner, an organizer, and a caretaker.

In adulthood and in a world of real people, I know too much to be having fun. This isn't fun. But it is what I am good at.

Only in very small moments do I get scared.  Mostly, I am sad.  I'm sad for those suffering.  I'm sad about the loss of things we haven't lost yet but soon will.

The gymnastics community is my window to the wider world. It is unimaginable these young athletes are not in the gym training. The end of the Season without warning was shocking. 

I happen to have Beach's very last floor routine from her last night at practice. Right now, I am too sad to watch it. How they will pick up and go back, I don't know.  It will cost so many of them their futures in this sport.

I look at the kids, and I wonder what happens next for them. There are a lot of unknowns. What I hope for is that when we are called out from our hiding places, we come out with renewed hearts.

Life is beauty.  Good is winning. We just need to all hold on. Take turns breaking down and building back up. There are people among us who will not see the other side of this. It's important that we walk this path in a way we want to be remembered for.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. ~Robert Frost

The Best Gift- published 2/21/15

I was kneeling on the floor helping Beach carefully box up 3 medals made of glass. 

Beach was far more fascinated by the boxes than the awards she had won. As soon as they announced boxes were available she rushed to get hers. 

She showed me the silky interior, the indented circle for the medal face, and announced the color was the "best" blue. 

"Aren't these boxes just beautiful?" She asked me holding them up.  

I was kneeling at her feet looking up into her smiling face thinking how lucky I was to have this kid in my life when I heard a mom from the sea of people squeezing by us say, "No, you leave those on I want people to see them when I am walking with you." 

As the woman twisted to grab the shoulders of her child our eyes met.   

Practically standing over me she looked down on me and at the stack of boxes in my hand, and then to Beach. 

Smiling Beach. 
Smiling, struggling Beach. 

The kid fighting a 10-second pause on beam before her series- the series she fell on. The kid asking from the backseat of the car through tears, "When is my dad coming back?" Wonderful, funny, honest, sweet Beach.

The look on the woman's face gave me the feeling we were the last pair of people she would have wanted to have heard her say that.

Her daughter looked at Beach, passing a weak smile of recognition; they had been on the podium together. Then awkwardly under the weight of her mother, she was taken away.

At first Beach and I just stared at each, both us feeling almost guilty for them witnessing us being us, and us seeing them being them. 

In the wake of them, I didn't know what to say to my own child but she knew what needed to be said. 

"That was really sad, mom. I feel bad for that girl- and her mom. That must really suck."

I stood up and Beach asked, "Can I see one of the boxes, they are so cool!"  

the things we do for love

I have done one and a half loads of laundry.  Changed the sheets on our bed including the duvet cover- what a serious pain that is!

Prepared dinner for tonight; an elk roast in a rich red tomato jalapeno broth with seeping garlic and heavy tones of black pepper, a side of creamy mashed potatoes for Beach and BC, and a dryish smashed yam for myself, green salad.

For dessert, a peanut butter brownie pie made with the following substitutions and/or additions: apple sauce, greek yogurt, oatmeal, and hand mashed black beans.

I have emptied and loaded the dishwasher twice, cleaned out the fridge, vacuumed three rooms, sorted the bills, trimmed and rearranged the flowers, fed the dogs and the cats, swept the mudroom, took out the trash, cleaned one of the two bathrooms, put a hundred things back where they go... and now that I think about it before doing all that I made breakfast, cleaned it up, and worked out.

The one thing I did not do was run Beach to work, BC did because he had extra time this morning.

While abandoning his coffee mug in the middle of the kitchen BC asked what the occasion was for all the work I was doing.  Well, it's Thursday... 

The special occasion is this is our one and only life.  

I do most of these things or things like them every day that I can. These are some of the last days for our little family to be together as we are now.  They are also some of the first days on the next adventure for each of us.

Beach is 16.  The closer she gets to a decision about her future in gymnastics the closer I see the end of this life and the start of something new.  Where and what that looks like I don't know.

All of her siblings are out on their own. Each took a different path. The talk of colleges beyond the idea of gymnastics is only now beginning. Driver's Education which had been on hold is now scheduled.

We have two years before she graduates from high school.  But two years?! That's not very long in the heart of a mother.

I am laying down the final pieces of a road that has taken us from where we began to where we are now.  A road that she will branch from to take out to the world beyond.  A road I want to make so wide and open and strong that she will always be able to find it again. No matter where she goes. 

Some of it I am repaving. The return of nightly desserts, family game night, and a family read-aloud novel.  Projects and Nova. Thoughts of spring camping and summer hikes.  Complex plans for the garden.  Our life as it was when they were all little.  Life slow and predictable. Well, as predictable as life can be with BC. Some of the stones are new. Adventures in Art and Fashion, a wild muddy Cowdog, and a woodshop with a big idea.

The smell of clean laundry, the memories of healthy homemade food, all the colors of the dishes put neatly away, and the sounds of childhood on newly swept floors.  There is a lot to do.  There is a lot that won't get done.  Dinners will burn, pies will not turn out but the love inside the work, inside the hours and the days that's what matters. The making of a home with open doors and sleeping cats.

Every day is a special occasion.  

Every day there is a reason to live your life as big as you can. 

Grandpa and Grandma Brown

carry on

It hasn't felt the same.  Meet Season 2020: Soft Landing, RMI... Beach is only competing in one event. 

It's like a rock concert raging in the night has been turned turn to a gentle hum inside an elevator. 

The stress of how she is doing every day has been our main event.  

Practice has been the proving ground.  We bounce between the chiropractor and PT.  

Beach balances her workload at the gym hour by hour, day by day. Meets have become some strange pageant she's not really participating in. 

And yet the final numbers at PT were good. She is stronger and more flexible. Armed with exercises to keep her back and core strong and healthy. She was released to carry on, encouraged to fight. She is winning back one event at a time. Climbing back up the skills ladder.

Not only is she adding skills but doing it while getting her pain under control. 

No, it's not the same when you have an injured athlete.  You watch the clock working against you. The game isn't much fun.  The lessons are longer.  The work slow.  The progress never fast enough.

I am finding as we enter Travel Season it is the same.  It starts with lists of things to buy and do. House sitters, weather patterns, car snacks, Leo's... the same.  The same questions and even the same excitement. 

I hate the moments before the unknown.  The tight smiles and nervous legs. The long walk to the venues.  The first looks, the last looks, the goodbyes and good lucks.

I don't know if her watered-down vault can get her a number she would be proud of.  I know for me, seeing the last 2 scores made my heart sink. I was so sad for her.  Never disappointed but yeah, honestly sad.  It's hard to watch.

She competed a pike in the last 2 Meets (9.7 start value) both scored well below at 9.0.  Rumor is she might attempt a layout at Lady Luck. 

Each day she gets stronger.  Each day she makes gains. Little by little the Beach I know is returning. 

Snow is in the forecast for the first half of the drive. We plan to drive through it in the thinnest forecasted window we can find.  After that, well, who knows but I find myself brave enough to hope for sunny skies. 

To All the Little Giants of GTC,

Good Luck at Lady Luck! 

See you in Vegas!!!

white notes

Good morning, our country seems to be at war. The coffee is full and hot but I lost one of the two dogs.  And not the one you think it would be.

I spent more time searching for Beach's Comp jacket.  Our house seems very big at 4AM. What I found is that we have a lot of little clothing that falls in the same category.  However, none of them is that jacket.

It's okay, we are made of money- I'm sure of it. Anyway, she can just wear a different jacket.  Maybe her ski jacket or her faux-fur coat- she'd look great! Or even better she could wear a different little black gym jacket at each event!!! That's really more her style.

Beach's session starts at 9:30... I think. Maybe we should ask someone who works there.  They should know.

I can't remember what time I told Beach we needed to be there so I will announce we are leaving when she looks like she is 95% ready to go.  Please don't blow it for me and ask what time I am leaving.

Please feed the dogs.  I have found the other one. There is a half pot of warm coffee and some sliced fruit. ham, and boiled eggs for your breakfast.

I fed the cats. Sorry about the ham.

My car needs gas but I am going to be gone for the next 2 days until after the pumps at Costco close. If you want to go pick up my car and gas it for me you can- if you can find it.  We have to park off-site.  I can text your address.  It will be fun, like geocaching but not really.

You will have to get your own dinner.  Please save me a beer (or 2).  But I will see you when you come up to watch Beach vault.  It will be like old times, you and me in a crowded gym waiting, and waiting, and waiting...

Still no jacket. And it turns out I was wrong about there being coffee.  You might want to make yourself some and if you wouldn't mind bringing me up a cup when you come, that would be amazing!

Turns out I was wrong about fruit and eggs too.  Perhaps the chickens will lay early today.  If not there is leftover pizza in the fridge.

Gotta run,

Misty

to those coming up behind us

I look at that photo and I count; 1,2,3,4,5,6,7. 

Seven girls gone from that 2016-17 Season (lv 8-10) alone.  Of course, there are more missing than that. 

You can't spend 9 years somewhere and think nothing will change.  Nine years and no one will grow up.

This isn't Neverland it's gymnastics. 

Maybe too much has changed for her since the start.  Maybe the pain has made her tired.  The isolation dimming the light. Maybe she is still willing to go on- maybe not.


To Those Coming Up Behind Us, a little piece of advice. Enjoy the journey, the moments in between performances and placements.  

Let them be little in the elevators and big on the stages. Say yes, say no. Sleep in, stay up late, take the back roads.  Don't apologize for letting her choose.  

This time for them is so short.  It may not seem like it as you wait for a plane, or awards, or for a word with the coach. But it's a blink.

In the end, they will all walk away from this part of their lives. Their medals and ribbons will stay in a box somewhere.  They will be forgotten. 

The life lessons and experiences are what they will carry with them. 

Life is an adventure.  There are many roads to travel.  Gymnastics is only one of them.  

Soft Landing Meet 2019-20 Season GTC lv 9-10 team

Right now she is looking for a sign to know which way to go.

Soft Landing 2019

The Level 9 and 10's of GTC

The first Meet of the 2020 season is in the books! We are so proud of all the girls <3 As planned Beach scratched 3 out of 4 events but she vaulted! I have no idea what will happen next but it was wonderful seeing her out there again. 

baby steps

We have answers. 

 It has taken this long to sort it all out and for me to feel confident enough to write about it.  

Beach is cleared for Season and today she will compete as a Level 10 (that could change based on her needs) at a pre-season soft landing meet for Vault only.  

It's not a big vault.  It doesn't have a 10 start value but it's a vault!!!! 

I had actually scoffed when I was told she had been entered in this early December Meet. I truly thought there was no way she would be ready to do anything. 

And here we are on a Meet morning with an athlete who has shown up for full practices every day for 7 months; conditioning and slowly gaining back skills.  She attended camps and clinics.  Broke her thumb and keep going.  Through pain and frustration, loneliness and fear.

Today she will vault in a meet. Baby steps. 

Honestly, I wasn't sure I would ever see her compete again.

What we know is she has lumbarization of the spine.  A fancy way to say her S1 vertebra is acting more like a L6 than a S1.  Instead of fusing into the sacrum it stands partially unfused with a clear disc between it and the S2.  

It's not uncommon but it is not exactly normal either. It's going to cause her pain whether or not she is doing gymnastics. 

And 3-4 doctors asked to read the x-ray noted a pars fracture in the S1/L6.  

To be positive a CT with spec was ordered but a good second (and third) opinion pointed us away from unnecessary imaging and towards PT unless other concerns develop. The issue isn't bone- it's soft tissue based on the anatomy presented.  

The "cure" is knowledge, strength, and flexibility. 

As soon as we knew that compression fractures were not an issue and that the area to focus treatment on was the SI joint we saw improvements in Beach.  

The Chiropractor was able to give her an adjustment that seemed to help her more than any others.  

The PT at Recharge gave her some great stretched and also was able to help with her mobility with muscle fascia release. 

Within the week she was seeing increased flexibility and less fear that the nagging pain is a sign of something dangerous. 

She is still in pain.  She has a long way to go.  But today is step one.  And step one is Vault.  It's not how she wanted her first steps on the Level 10 stage to be but this sport... the numbers say nothing.

Good luck to all the Little Giants and gymnasts from our sister gyms competing today! 

Don't forget to have fun. Enjoy this amazing moment <3 

any other day

I only have a few minutes to spend here.  I wanted to sit down on write yesterday but I ran out of time.  Now that I am here I'm not sure what it is that I want to say. I am struggling. 

Beach's appointment with Spine Clinic is in a few hours. Every time I start to get dramatic and worry that it could be a moment that changes the world before her I remember most likely we will have no more answers at the end of this day than we had at the end of any other day.

I worry they will require more testing that we can't really pay for.

I worry something was missed the first time.

I worry that something will be missed this time.

I worry she won't hear the words she needs to hear.

I worry that she will walk away from gymnastics and still be in pain.

And somewhere deep in the part of my heart that holds her hopes, I worry that she won't get to do what she could have done...