Getting Inaction, Oops, I Meant In Action

This week it was all about being proactive. I decided I would work on this writing thing, finally go in and see what can be done about my driver’s license, and get a grip on those dreaded swimming lessons, that are not even for me, but for my four year old daughter, Lanes. Most of those things didn’t quite go according to plan, and I’m typing this entry with banged up knees and toes. Egos were not bruised in this episode, mostly because they were already deflated to begin with.

Bolstered by newfound enthusiasm after self publishing a work for the first time last week, I decided, rather insanely, that I would bring back to life the children’s book I did back in 2004.  It was written and illustrated and has been sitting in my closet with a solitary pack of silica gel.

The thing is, one tiny packet does not provide a strong line of defense against moisture and most of my artwork is in a very pathetic state. Considering each page took me two days back in the BC (Before Child) days, redrawing and coloring every page with a curious four year old is not a viable option.

Then I had a brainwave to scan the pictures and fix them on this Paint program. It has been so time consuming that I am only one page two. Cleaning has gone to dust, cooking has gone to pots, and I look like I’m giving Einstein a run for his money in the ‘How Not to Do Your Hair’ and 'That's Why We Don't Stick Things in Electrical Outlets' contests. When I close my eyes I see colors and pixels and I’m a mess.

I am thinking of shelving the entire idea. Now the words that seemed so interesting back in the day have lost their luster and the artwork looks asinine. Then again art is in the eye of the beholder, and  I can pretend that the characters are supposed to have heads twice as big as their torsos. A complete control freak (stress is on the second word), I refuse to let anyone help with the drawings. Yep, I think I’m just going to go back to being a mom thinking of a 9-5 job.

In my misery, I have shoveled several Kit Kat bars down my throat. I have been excited about this book for forever and now I’m not so sure. It’s like going to a school reunion and seeing an old crush and thinking, ‘oh my gosh, what happened to that guy? Yikes’.  That old spark was just not there.

My spouse of few words, P, thinks that I’m being hard on myself and that I should go for it. I guess it’s a good sign about the book because he is one of those guys who always just speaks the truth. Never ask him if you look fat. He will tell you. He even doesn’t care what he gets for dinner because he says it’s nice to see me finally being so driven about something.

Speaking of being driven, I hope to be driving soon, and hopefully without my narcoleptic drill instructor, I mean driving instructor.  Remember, the one with a penchant for shouting ‘Fail!’ every thirty four seconds?  I finally went into the DMV (I think in Canada it’s called something else, but you know what I mean). P was laughing at me because I grabbed the spare car keys and walked in with that and my US driver’s license.

I had a theory that if they see me holding the car keys they will have the image of me confident behind the wheel on a subconscious level and therefore want to help me get my license. I mean if I have a legitimate US license, plus the driving record I secured online, surely that must count for something.

Turns out I have to bring in an unopened copy of my driver’s record and then their people can talk to my people and finally Lanes and I can go to school and back without having to worry out about coming round the mountain and sliding down a hill.  Hopefully, everything will work out. P is still laughing at me and my car key subliminal message theory, but now I think he is considering using these tactics at his temp job.

Where psychology is not helping me, is in the pool with Lanes. It seems that I was happily doing kicks and dances and laughing at my fear of water because the water only came to my hips. Apparently, there is a deep end, and today Lanes and I found that out the hard way.

After going through that miserable, wet, hair infested changing room with women with no clothes, we got into the pool to find out her regular instructor was not there and no one else showed up for class. Lanes was not amused, and the new guy took us to the deep end. The deep end for big people.

I nearly died. The only thing that kept me from having an anxiety attack was trying to show a brave face for Lanes. It might have been obvious because another instructor told me to stop at the red line because I can’t walk anymore from that point. 


I don’t know what gave away my fear and inability to swim. Perhaps it was that I was gripping to the side of the pool for dear life, not even letting go to make way for her students—who might have been eight years old.

I told Lanes’ teacher he was on his own. It was all too much for me and I felt horrible, watching her bobbing in the water with someone she was not familiar with. Luckily, she was distracted by a red watering can floating by and she was ok to be without me for a few moments.

When they came back to me, I was feeling uneasy as there were many people swimming near me and I wanted to cling onto the edge of the pool. Lanes jumped onto my shoulder when she saw me and in my desperation to stay latched the side and cling onto her at the same time, I wobbled (can anyone else wobble in water?), and crashed into an inanely placed bunch of concrete stairs in the odd shaped pool.

I scratched my knee and it’s swollen. I couldn’t figure out why there were so many random steps, because I won’t put my head under water, and then I bashed my toe on another step and nearly stumbled. I had to hoist Lanes onto the instructor, who was blissfully ignorant of my shenanigans, and compose myself. If I lost footing and my neck or head went under water, I would have made a spectacle of myself by having a panic attack.

I’m not so sure the lessons are going swimmingly for me! I can’t wait to get to the point where parents are not allowed to be in the pool. Hopefully, next round, it won’t be a requirement anymore. I really hope we don’t have to go in the scary side of the pool next time.

All in all, this week I have at least set the wheels in motion when it comes to writing and driving. I’m never going to get over the swimming thing, so let’s just let that be. Any thoughts I was harboring about taking lessons for myself are lost and gone forever after today. I would also like to give a shout out to my handsome and brilliant nephews who are having their birthdays this weekend! Here’s to better tidings from BC next week…