It's the "ssssssssssssh" disease. It's the disease Tom Cruise was making fun of..... but he certainly is no comedian. It's an invisible disease, unfortunately it doesn't cause any limbs to rot and fall off or anything so most people won't even know you are suffering from it. And to top it all of, it makes you into such a wonderful actress, putting on smiles and good humor for your surroundings, despite the fact that in your soul, there is no joy at all.
I had read about port partum depression (ppd) before, but of course, nobody ever expects it to happen to them. However, when after 2-3 months after having my daughter, I still didn't feel right, I started to analyze my symptoms more closely. Although I wasn't feeling suicidal, which is the extreme case of ppd, and I did love my daughter, there were other symptoms there that were clearly ppd related. However, I kept doubting myself, thinking "nah, this is normal" or "nah, I'm probably just imagining things".
To paint a picture, it felt like I was swimming underwater and I was unable to ever reach the surface to come up for air. It's like being in a fog of sorts. Crying for no reason. Having a very VERY short fuse. Having no energy to do much at all, and when it comes time to get up and do something, it takes almost an entire day to charge up the "battery" and it drains very fast. Looking into the future and seeing nothing positive. Basically all I'm seeing is a big brick wall of nothingness. And.... I am not feeling suicidal, HOWEVER ....... I can tell you that the thought of dieing, at my lowest point, was not as scary and devastating to me as it should have been. Humor - sure, it was there. On the outside. In reality, my emotions were just logical responses to what I was seeing or hearing. The logical side of me would tell me it was time to laugh because someone told a funny joke, and sure, I laugh.... on the outside. On the inside, not so much. Dead. I'm a walking zombie of myself.
I didn't even know where to start as far as treatment. Being "sick in the head" is not something you announce from the mountain tops. Except, it really should be. I finally worked up my nerve and called my ob/gyn. BEST call I EVER made. He put me on some medication, and then referred me to my family doctor for further treatment. My doctor added another medicine to my stash, and I was starting to feel better.
One big clue that I was starting to feel better was that I was actually getting hungry! Much like the laughter described above, eating food had also been a charade that I performed.... my body needed nutrition. So I ate. But I hadn't really felt hunger. So when I started feeling hungry again, I knew things were looking up.
Then.... it was return to work time. Guess what. PPD came slamming back, with force. Knocked me back almost all the way to the beginning. At first, I figured it was just a natural mother-baby separation anxiety, and I expected it to go away, but it didn't budge. Again with the self doubts.... "Am I really feeling this way or am I imagining it?" Again I had to talk myself into calling the doctor. You would've thought that after the relief I felt last time after having called them, I would jump at the chance to call again, but no. After all, I wanted to be better. But I wasn't. I was slipping backwards and the fog came back. It felt as if every time I was close to emerging from this fog, stress and work would knock me back down before I even had a chance to take a deep, clean breath of air. Again I was split into two people, without being schizophrenic, it was "logical me" who was kind of a puppetmaster for the "physical me" .... pulling my strings so that I could go through the day, do my job.... and I'm not sure how I did my job in my condition. I just did.
The scary part is the commute. I have a 45 minutes (or longer) commute and I would zone out somewhere and not "wake up" again until I was almost home. I shudder to think of the state of auto pilot I have been driving on, not only at work but IN TRAFFIC with other cars... on the freeway. Obviously I'm fine, I didn't get into any accidents. (That tells you a little something about how strong your psyche is, doesn't it?).
But this is freaky.
I went back to the doctor and he put me on sick leave. He also changed my medication and suggested counseling, something that I am considering now. I realize I may need some tools to deal with this, I can't figure it out on my own. And I don't want to get worse, I hate it here in the fog. I wanna see the blue skies again.
I said earlier that this is a disease that you don't go shouting from the mountain tops about, yet here I am, blogging away for the world to see.... both unknown people, as well as friends and family. Well ... first of all ... I'm hoping this post could reach women who may need this push, or this post, in order to figure out what they are suffering from (or that they ARE suffering in the first place...).... Also, I have to get over the stigma of having emotional problems. (In fact, this is a chemical/hormonal imbalance, not just psychological). I guess there is no better way to get over that stigma than to do exactly what I said I wouldn't do.... SHOUT from the mountain tops!
Depression is very, very serious. It's a medical condition, and there is nothing wrong with you. (or me). It's no fun at all. It's taking away good times that you can spend with your family in those early baby months.
So if you do recognize yourself here...... and you haven't dealt with it yet .... pick up the phone & contact your OB or your family doctor. They'll take it from there.
Happy Trails everybody.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Being on the Atkins diet.... without suffering ;-)
Ok, so we've been counting calories and granted we have been dropping some pounds, it seemed to become somewhat stagnant after awhile. So ... we turned to the old reliable.... Atkins!! Low carb (not NO carb) diet, which was responsible for an 80 lbs loss back in its heyday (and although some of it crept back on throughout the years, I never did regain all of those 80 lbs, so it's not true that you always gain back what you lost & more....)
So, we restocked our pantries and now had to start remembering what we used to eat and where we used to go when we wanted to eat out. Atkins also inspires a lot of creations in the kitchen, because if you don't want to get sick of protein, you want to get creative!
Luckily, the low carb selection at the stores now is vastly expanded and a lot greater than it used to be. Thanks to Walden Farms, who have a LOT of really great products such as 0 carb chocolate spread, 0 carb strawberry jam, 0 carb apple butter...... etc.
Anyway.... below are some photos of my lunch. Does it look like I'm suffering?
So, we restocked our pantries and now had to start remembering what we used to eat and where we used to go when we wanted to eat out. Atkins also inspires a lot of creations in the kitchen, because if you don't want to get sick of protein, you want to get creative!
Luckily, the low carb selection at the stores now is vastly expanded and a lot greater than it used to be. Thanks to Walden Farms, who have a LOT of really great products such as 0 carb chocolate spread, 0 carb strawberry jam, 0 carb apple butter...... etc.
Anyway.... below are some photos of my lunch. Does it look like I'm suffering?
Here we have 2 (or however many you can pile on, as these are 0 carbs) Oscar Mayer Cheesy dogs, wrapped up in a Mission low carb tortilla, topped with low carb ketchup, 0 carb thousand island and 0 carb jalapeno peppers.... nom, nom! Overall carb count: 5 (4 from tortilla, and about 1 from ketchup)
And I can have dessert! As much as I want if I do it right ;-)
What you see here is my personal concoction: a couple of spoonfuls of Walden Farm's Apple Butter, topped with whipped cream, a couple of chopped macadamia nuts AND ... last but NOT least (the most important player in this concoction).... the CINNAMON! (Takes the edge off the "sugar free" taste that sometimes comes through in these 0 carb fruit spreads)
Another shot of my yummalicious dessert. mmm .... I want some more.
Carbs? Around 2. If that.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
The average moviegoer's review: Battle: LA(ME)
Note: If you are planning on seeing this movie, be warned there may be some spoiler alerts.... although these are mainly my opinions on what I saw ....
Battle: LA
Ok, so here is how I imagine the idea for this movie was born:
Place: Local bar somewhere in Burbank
Time of day: 5 o'clock ... wait, make that 8pm .... I'm assuming this level of creativity requires a minimum of 3 (very) Happy Hours.
Main characters: some producers (P) and his loyal and hungry-for-success companions (C1, C2 etc)
P: Dude, it took me like 3 hours to drive down the 405 this morn.
C1: Yeah duuude! Cheers!
P: Man I hate LA sometimes.
C2: Yeah duuude! Cheers!
P: Sometimes I wish I could just blow LA to pieces so I'd have the entire freeway to myself.
C1 & C2: yeah dooooooh!! Cheers!!!
P: Oh wait! Movie idea! LA! On fire! Everywhere! Bombs going off! Freeways... oh man
*P grabs a beer stained napkin and starts scribbling*
C1: And you could have....like....some cool Marine dudes runnin' around, saving peeps!
C2: Yeah! And make sure they have cool guns!
P: "Marines....guns...." .... Lots of explosions! LOTS OF EXPLOSIONS!! We'll BLOW UP LA!! God I'm gonna be so famous!!!
C1: Hell yeah!!! Hey, maybe they could fight some local gang bangers....
P: No no no..... no .... nobody would pay millions....it's gotta be big, it's gotta be awesome.,.... it's gotta be ... *scribbles frenetically* ..... aliens *drool coming out the side of his mouth* ...
C2: Dude, don't forget some emotional crap.
P: Oh yeah, good thought... *scribbles* ... "Remember emotional crap" ... Chicks dig that stuff.
C1: And dead bodies dude! Lots of'em ....
P: Dead bodies... good one. Hey, can I have another beer here? *snaps fingers* We're on a roll .....
Ahh..... my head hurts, I don't wanna spy in on these goofballs anymore. (Damnit, END SCENE already!)
So ... let's just point out a couple of things I had issues with during this movie....
*Sloooooow for an action movie. I mean.... come on. It's an ACTION movie. Stop following these guys around with a wobbly movie camera and get to the fun stuff!
*Emotional crap .... was exactly that . Crap. I get it... they threw in some scenes so we'd have an emotional connection with these marines but they failed miserably .... I could care less when people blew up in this movie. Orphans, widows .... dead comrades. Sorry. I'm not a cold hearted bitch, these things would normally move me in a movie.... if done right. Here.... they just seemed like fillers.
So.... it literally felt like the "emotional crap" was thrown in there as an afterthought.
(Not to mention these emotional plots were painstakingly obvious.... I could pretty much point out who was gonna die the very moment I saw them....)
*Big cool advanced alien dudes have the crappiest aim ever. Ok so.... without giving away much... there's this "chase scene" (big exaggeration) where all these people are on a bus, chased by one of these mechs...... This mech seems to be hitting every single car on the street.... EXCEPT for the BIG BRIGHT ORANGE BUS that's sitting SMACK DAB in the middle of the street. Ok .... so maybe these advanced cool critters are color blind or something.... maybe something is wrong with their vision so they can't see buses.
*Big cool advanced dudes can be taken down with a 9mm. I mean.... the fact that they could take them down with those machine guns in the first place was a little out there, but ok, I could live with it... but...uhm.... what's up with the pistol.... "Bang, bang..... you're dead...."
*Main Character.... Aaron Eckhart.... normally a good actor that I like very much... in this movie, he was very very wrong. I couldn't find any sympathy in my heart for this character at all. I get it, he's a "rough around the edges but soft heart" kinda dude.... They really needed someone with a slightly rougher edge to play this role.... Like Mickey Rourke. I think he would've been awesome.
*Funny coincidence.... one of the VERY FEW survivors happens to be a vet ... (veterinarian, not veteran) .... and that HAPPENS to come in very handy .... man.... The gods were smiling down on these guys when they found this veterinarian.... they would still be sitting there, shooting at the wrong alien body parts!
*Where were all the cool movie graphic scenes????? Based on the previews, I expected more.
*Why would anybody run up to an alien (that they know nothing about) ... when said alien is spewing fluids from hoses and limbs, their surroundings are completely engulfed in flames.... uh .... dude.... what if those fluids were gasoline or other explosive chemicals? Not a smart move.
I'm starting to wonder how this guy managed to stay alive this long in his career.
*Also .... I didn't like the way they portrayed the Marines. I have the deepest, most profound for Marines and any armed forces of the USA. But in this movie, they seemed like machines more than human beings, and were portrayed as if it was their duty to go out there and die. I guess this was partially to blame on the lack of emotional attachment to any of them .... the "emotional crap" failure... but it seemed more like "machines vs machines" rather than "humans vs aliens" (or mechs or whatever you want to call them).
*Where did those missiles in the end come from? Did MacGyver create those from scratch during the couple of hours that went by between 19:30, when the bombs were supposed to be dropped, and the end of the movie? And if it was NOT MacGyver who stepped in with his rubber bands and needle & thread capabilities..... and they infact already had those missiles.... why didn't they fire those at 19:30 hours?
I could say a lot more but I can't bare reliving anymore of this movie in my head right now.
Go back to the bar you came from, and for god's sake P... next time, throw away that napkin!
Battle: LA
Ok, so here is how I imagine the idea for this movie was born:
Place: Local bar somewhere in Burbank
Time of day: 5 o'clock ... wait, make that 8pm .... I'm assuming this level of creativity requires a minimum of 3 (very) Happy Hours.
Main characters: some producers (P) and his loyal and hungry-for-success companions (C1, C2 etc)
P: Dude, it took me like 3 hours to drive down the 405 this morn.
C1: Yeah duuude! Cheers!
P: Man I hate LA sometimes.
C2: Yeah duuude! Cheers!
P: Sometimes I wish I could just blow LA to pieces so I'd have the entire freeway to myself.
C1 & C2: yeah dooooooh!! Cheers!!!
P: Oh wait! Movie idea! LA! On fire! Everywhere! Bombs going off! Freeways... oh man
*P grabs a beer stained napkin and starts scribbling*
C1: And you could have....like....some cool Marine dudes runnin' around, saving peeps!
C2: Yeah! And make sure they have cool guns!
P: "Marines....guns...." .... Lots of explosions! LOTS OF EXPLOSIONS!! We'll BLOW UP LA!! God I'm gonna be so famous!!!
C1: Hell yeah!!! Hey, maybe they could fight some local gang bangers....
P: No no no..... no .... nobody would pay millions....it's gotta be big, it's gotta be awesome.,.... it's gotta be ... *scribbles frenetically* ..... aliens *drool coming out the side of his mouth* ...
C2: Dude, don't forget some emotional crap.
P: Oh yeah, good thought... *scribbles* ... "Remember emotional crap" ... Chicks dig that stuff.
C1: And dead bodies dude! Lots of'em ....
P: Dead bodies... good one. Hey, can I have another beer here? *snaps fingers* We're on a roll .....
Ahh..... my head hurts, I don't wanna spy in on these goofballs anymore. (Damnit, END SCENE already!)
So ... let's just point out a couple of things I had issues with during this movie....
*Sloooooow for an action movie. I mean.... come on. It's an ACTION movie. Stop following these guys around with a wobbly movie camera and get to the fun stuff!
*Emotional crap .... was exactly that . Crap. I get it... they threw in some scenes so we'd have an emotional connection with these marines but they failed miserably .... I could care less when people blew up in this movie. Orphans, widows .... dead comrades. Sorry. I'm not a cold hearted bitch, these things would normally move me in a movie.... if done right. Here.... they just seemed like fillers.
So.... it literally felt like the "emotional crap" was thrown in there as an afterthought.
(Not to mention these emotional plots were painstakingly obvious.... I could pretty much point out who was gonna die the very moment I saw them....)
*Big cool advanced alien dudes have the crappiest aim ever. Ok so.... without giving away much... there's this "chase scene" (big exaggeration) where all these people are on a bus, chased by one of these mechs...... This mech seems to be hitting every single car on the street.... EXCEPT for the BIG BRIGHT ORANGE BUS that's sitting SMACK DAB in the middle of the street. Ok .... so maybe these advanced cool critters are color blind or something.... maybe something is wrong with their vision so they can't see buses.
*Big cool advanced dudes can be taken down with a 9mm. I mean.... the fact that they could take them down with those machine guns in the first place was a little out there, but ok, I could live with it... but...uhm.... what's up with the pistol.... "Bang, bang..... you're dead...."
*Main Character.... Aaron Eckhart.... normally a good actor that I like very much... in this movie, he was very very wrong. I couldn't find any sympathy in my heart for this character at all. I get it, he's a "rough around the edges but soft heart" kinda dude.... They really needed someone with a slightly rougher edge to play this role.... Like Mickey Rourke. I think he would've been awesome.
*Funny coincidence.... one of the VERY FEW survivors happens to be a vet ... (veterinarian, not veteran) .... and that HAPPENS to come in very handy .... man.... The gods were smiling down on these guys when they found this veterinarian.... they would still be sitting there, shooting at the wrong alien body parts!
*Where were all the cool movie graphic scenes????? Based on the previews, I expected more.
*Why would anybody run up to an alien (that they know nothing about) ... when said alien is spewing fluids from hoses and limbs, their surroundings are completely engulfed in flames.... uh .... dude.... what if those fluids were gasoline or other explosive chemicals? Not a smart move.
I'm starting to wonder how this guy managed to stay alive this long in his career.
*Also .... I didn't like the way they portrayed the Marines. I have the deepest, most profound for Marines and any armed forces of the USA. But in this movie, they seemed like machines more than human beings, and were portrayed as if it was their duty to go out there and die. I guess this was partially to blame on the lack of emotional attachment to any of them .... the "emotional crap" failure... but it seemed more like "machines vs machines" rather than "humans vs aliens" (or mechs or whatever you want to call them).
*Where did those missiles in the end come from? Did MacGyver create those from scratch during the couple of hours that went by between 19:30, when the bombs were supposed to be dropped, and the end of the movie? And if it was NOT MacGyver who stepped in with his rubber bands and needle & thread capabilities..... and they infact already had those missiles.... why didn't they fire those at 19:30 hours?
I could say a lot more but I can't bare reliving anymore of this movie in my head right now.
Go back to the bar you came from, and for god's sake P... next time, throw away that napkin!
Friday, March 11, 2011
Live bait, cheese puffs & mosquito bites.
I was rummaging through my collection of short stories to find one I'd like to post here in my blog. I've got quite a few to choose from, but when I stumbled across this one.... I knew it was the one!
This is a story based on true facts! I wrote it for a contest way back when... I think it was "Chicken soup for the fisherman" or something like that.... Didn't win anything. That doesn't matter though, because I've got a vivid memory on paper, and although I'll always remember these times, it's nice to read it once in awhile for a chuckle.
My brother and I often discuss our fishing trips that we used to go on now and then..... our discussions ususally end up with both of us crying with laughter because our fishing trips were quite the spectacle. No wonder we never caught any fish.
Anyway .... The following short story is based on real events.... and it's not embellished one bit ;-)
(I'm fairly sure my brother will attest to that)
So let's go fishing....
Live bait, cheese puffs & mosquito bites.
The sun threatened to disappear, and the full moon was ready to start its nightshift. I heard rocks pop underneath our tires as we drove down the gravel road. I could see the lake. My brother and I were excited about the prospects of catching our first fish.
“I’ll get the biggest fish,” he said and I just laughed and shrugged. I knew I would catch more fish than he would, and they would probably all be bigger than his catch.
As the car stopped, we unbuckled our seatbelts, flew out of the car, pulled out our brand new fishing rods and the bag of cheese puffs and a thermos of hot chocolate that we were looking forward to share while waiting for our first fish.
We approached the lake, found a nice spot to settle down at, and dad started teaching us how to assemble our fishing rods. He reached into his fishing bag and pulled out a box.
“It’s time for you to bait your hook,” he grinned as he popped the lid off, revealing a pile of squirming earthworms. I watched in horror as my brother bravely stuck his hand into the box and pulled out one of the critters. It was so slimy; he dropped it several times, before he finally was able to nail it with the hook.
He sent me a triumphant look that said: “I bet you’re too girly to touch these worm.”
Hah! I would show him!
Determined to do this, I shoved my hand into the container. I tried not to notice the cold, wet worm that was now squirming around in the palm of my hand. I grabbed the hook and quickly impaled the beast. I concentrated really hard to hold back my emotional outbursts as worm feces were squirting out of both its ends and all over my hand. However, I had proven my point!
It was time to go fishing!
Dad showed us how to throw.
“Looks easy,” I said and picked up my fishing rod.
Confidently I pulled the pole back and yanked my arms forward, listening for that “plop” in the water as my bobber hit the surface.
There was no plop.
I was brought back to reality and I realized that my hook and my line had not yet hit the water.
How far had I thrown this thing?
I heard my brother giggle as he pointed to my fishing line, which strangely enough had defeated gravity and stood straight up into the air.
“You realize that the fish is in the water, and not up in that tree,” my father calmly informed me while trying to unhook my fishing pole from the branches of the big tree that miraculously had appeared behind me.
I could have sworn I didn’t see a tree there before!
After 10 minutes of detangling my line and re-baiting the hook, I proudly threw my hook into the water. It didn’t fly as far as my dad’s did, but I was proud of the distance I managed to throw it. My brother had already had his hook in the water for 10 minutes, luckily though, he still hadn’t gotten a bite.
We watched our bobbers with excitement. If either of them moved just a little, we’d spring to our feet, hold our breath and be deathly quiet, then sit back down a few moments later, realizing it was the waves that were moving the bobber up and down.
My mind wandered to the cheese puffs and the hot chocolate, wondering when we would get to dig into the snacks. My brother and I exchanged looks, silently debating over which one of us should bring it up, when my dad saved us both the trouble as he grabbed our bag and started delegating snacks.
I was consuming my third cheese puff, when all of a sudden my bobber went under water.
I held my breath, waiting for it to appear again, but it didn’t.
“Dad!” I whispered.
He finished pouring his coffee and it felt like years passed by before he finally screwed the top back on to his thermos and came over.
“Look, my bobber is gone!”
It was really hard to whisper. I was so excited.
“So it is,” he calmly said and I grabbed my pole ready to reel in my big catch.
“Not yet." So he said.
What do you mean not yet???? I felt like screaming, I was hopping from one foot to another, deathly afraid that the fish would escape, not knowing at the time that this was exactly why we were waiting a few extra minutes.
“Looks like it’s on really tight, I don’t see the bobber at all,” my dad said. “I guess you can start reeling him in.”
I started working the reel. It got extremely heavy and I handed it over to my dad.
“Must be a big one,” I said, ignorantly unaware of the grin on dad’s face as he violently jerked the fishing rod around.
“What are you doing, we’re gonna lose the fish!” I said and tried to grab the pole back.
“Wait and see,” my dad said as the pole finally seemed to get lighter, and my dad reeled in the rest of the line.
“Congratulations, you just pulled out half the bottom of this pond.”
I gave my brother the evil eye, which didn’t stop him from rolling around on the ground, laughing hysterically at the big muddy lump of weeds that was attached to my fishhook.
I grumbled as I went back to the bucket of worms, dug a couple of them up, baited my hook like a pro and threw it back in.
As I waited for that fish to bite, I started noticing my surroundings. It was quiet tonight. I heard an occasional splash out on the lake. Bugs were buzzing by, making me slightly nervous, as I couldn’t see what it was. A mild breeze gently swept across my face, playing with my hair, and it was at that moment I realized that fishing wasn’t about how many fish I caught or who got the biggest fish. Fishing was about this whole experience, about sitting there, waiting in excitement for something to maybe bite on to my hook, being out here in the wilderness, enjoying scenery around me that people are too busy to even notice.
It was about spending quality time with my family, quality time that made such an impression that today, 20 years later, I’m writing a story about it.
Going home, my brother and I sat in the backseat, making up stories about the fish that got away, so we’d at least have something to tell people about our first fishing trip. My dad glanced at us in his rearview mirror and shook his head, and I stopped in the middle of our tale, looked at my brother and said:
“I think we’ll just say we didn’t get any fish.”
We exchanged looks and I knew he had come to the same conclusion as me.
We stared out the window as we drove home, already dreaming about our next fishing trip.
“But next time… I’ll get the biggest fish,” he said.
“I’ll get more fish than you,” I replied and grinned.
Our first fishing trip.
We grew up a little that night.
This is a story based on true facts! I wrote it for a contest way back when... I think it was "Chicken soup for the fisherman" or something like that.... Didn't win anything. That doesn't matter though, because I've got a vivid memory on paper, and although I'll always remember these times, it's nice to read it once in awhile for a chuckle.
My brother and I often discuss our fishing trips that we used to go on now and then..... our discussions ususally end up with both of us crying with laughter because our fishing trips were quite the spectacle. No wonder we never caught any fish.
Anyway .... The following short story is based on real events.... and it's not embellished one bit ;-)
(I'm fairly sure my brother will attest to that)
So let's go fishing....
Live bait, cheese puffs & mosquito bites.
The sun threatened to disappear, and the full moon was ready to start its nightshift. I heard rocks pop underneath our tires as we drove down the gravel road. I could see the lake. My brother and I were excited about the prospects of catching our first fish.
“I’ll get the biggest fish,” he said and I just laughed and shrugged. I knew I would catch more fish than he would, and they would probably all be bigger than his catch.
As the car stopped, we unbuckled our seatbelts, flew out of the car, pulled out our brand new fishing rods and the bag of cheese puffs and a thermos of hot chocolate that we were looking forward to share while waiting for our first fish.
We approached the lake, found a nice spot to settle down at, and dad started teaching us how to assemble our fishing rods. He reached into his fishing bag and pulled out a box.
“It’s time for you to bait your hook,” he grinned as he popped the lid off, revealing a pile of squirming earthworms. I watched in horror as my brother bravely stuck his hand into the box and pulled out one of the critters. It was so slimy; he dropped it several times, before he finally was able to nail it with the hook.
He sent me a triumphant look that said: “I bet you’re too girly to touch these worm.”
Hah! I would show him!
Determined to do this, I shoved my hand into the container. I tried not to notice the cold, wet worm that was now squirming around in the palm of my hand. I grabbed the hook and quickly impaled the beast. I concentrated really hard to hold back my emotional outbursts as worm feces were squirting out of both its ends and all over my hand. However, I had proven my point!
It was time to go fishing!
Dad showed us how to throw.
“Looks easy,” I said and picked up my fishing rod.
Confidently I pulled the pole back and yanked my arms forward, listening for that “plop” in the water as my bobber hit the surface.
There was no plop.
I was brought back to reality and I realized that my hook and my line had not yet hit the water.
How far had I thrown this thing?
I heard my brother giggle as he pointed to my fishing line, which strangely enough had defeated gravity and stood straight up into the air.
“You realize that the fish is in the water, and not up in that tree,” my father calmly informed me while trying to unhook my fishing pole from the branches of the big tree that miraculously had appeared behind me.
I could have sworn I didn’t see a tree there before!
After 10 minutes of detangling my line and re-baiting the hook, I proudly threw my hook into the water. It didn’t fly as far as my dad’s did, but I was proud of the distance I managed to throw it. My brother had already had his hook in the water for 10 minutes, luckily though, he still hadn’t gotten a bite.
We watched our bobbers with excitement. If either of them moved just a little, we’d spring to our feet, hold our breath and be deathly quiet, then sit back down a few moments later, realizing it was the waves that were moving the bobber up and down.
My mind wandered to the cheese puffs and the hot chocolate, wondering when we would get to dig into the snacks. My brother and I exchanged looks, silently debating over which one of us should bring it up, when my dad saved us both the trouble as he grabbed our bag and started delegating snacks.
I was consuming my third cheese puff, when all of a sudden my bobber went under water.
I held my breath, waiting for it to appear again, but it didn’t.
“Dad!” I whispered.
He finished pouring his coffee and it felt like years passed by before he finally screwed the top back on to his thermos and came over.
“Look, my bobber is gone!”
It was really hard to whisper. I was so excited.
“So it is,” he calmly said and I grabbed my pole ready to reel in my big catch.
“Not yet." So he said.
What do you mean not yet???? I felt like screaming, I was hopping from one foot to another, deathly afraid that the fish would escape, not knowing at the time that this was exactly why we were waiting a few extra minutes.
“Looks like it’s on really tight, I don’t see the bobber at all,” my dad said. “I guess you can start reeling him in.”
I started working the reel. It got extremely heavy and I handed it over to my dad.
“Must be a big one,” I said, ignorantly unaware of the grin on dad’s face as he violently jerked the fishing rod around.
“What are you doing, we’re gonna lose the fish!” I said and tried to grab the pole back.
“Wait and see,” my dad said as the pole finally seemed to get lighter, and my dad reeled in the rest of the line.
“Congratulations, you just pulled out half the bottom of this pond.”
I gave my brother the evil eye, which didn’t stop him from rolling around on the ground, laughing hysterically at the big muddy lump of weeds that was attached to my fishhook.
I grumbled as I went back to the bucket of worms, dug a couple of them up, baited my hook like a pro and threw it back in.
As I waited for that fish to bite, I started noticing my surroundings. It was quiet tonight. I heard an occasional splash out on the lake. Bugs were buzzing by, making me slightly nervous, as I couldn’t see what it was. A mild breeze gently swept across my face, playing with my hair, and it was at that moment I realized that fishing wasn’t about how many fish I caught or who got the biggest fish. Fishing was about this whole experience, about sitting there, waiting in excitement for something to maybe bite on to my hook, being out here in the wilderness, enjoying scenery around me that people are too busy to even notice.
It was about spending quality time with my family, quality time that made such an impression that today, 20 years later, I’m writing a story about it.
Going home, my brother and I sat in the backseat, making up stories about the fish that got away, so we’d at least have something to tell people about our first fishing trip. My dad glanced at us in his rearview mirror and shook his head, and I stopped in the middle of our tale, looked at my brother and said:
“I think we’ll just say we didn’t get any fish.”
We exchanged looks and I knew he had come to the same conclusion as me.
We stared out the window as we drove home, already dreaming about our next fishing trip.
“But next time… I’ll get the biggest fish,” he said.
“I’ll get more fish than you,” I replied and grinned.
Our first fishing trip.
We grew up a little that night.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)