Swim Across the Lake - Kalamalka Lake August 12 2023

 Last year Dean and I swam the Kelowna SATL together, it was fun and in the end Gwen was jealous and wanted to participate, so we discussed as a family and came up with a plan for this year's event.

Matt had paddled for Dean last year and wanted to swim the next time. 

We decided that Matt, Dean and Gwen would swim and I would paddle and we would find a second paddler so that the kids would be covered.

Two weeks ago on Saturday, Matt came home from soccer limping, again. He tried to convince me it was minor and that he was fine, again. As the week progressed his ability to walk dissipated and after putting another punch in his hospital pass he came by my office with crutches and an aircast. Over the years he has come to understand that a face to face visual works best for me, and delivering the news that he hurt himself to me in a public place was clearly pre-meditated.

As the week hobbled along, so did Matt. It was not looking good, the swollen ankle, the limping, the pain. I knew he would push through but I wondered if I possessed the ability to talk him out of it. Luckily for us he woke up this morning with less pain, less swell and determined to swim with his girls.

Dean had been looking forward to this event for weeks. She loves open water swimming and although she hasn't been practicing distances, she has been hopping in the lake a fair bit. 

Gwen was looking forward to the swim, but this week starting voicing concerns. We were out in the lake paddling beside the girls while they swam. Gwen stopped swimming and looked up at me and said " I just realized that I'm not going to win this race." "The Swim Across the Lake?" I asked " Yes" she said. "Yeah, well you're likely not going to even come in the top 100...you're 8!" I tried to reason with her and provide some sane level of expectations. " Well what am I even doing this for?" she asked. Sometimes I just laugh...mostly because I have no idea what to say to some of the questions, but also because I find the thought process and level of questioning hilarious. As this week progressed, Gwen started telling me how nervous she was and how she wanted to swim, but was getting more scared daily. We talked about it and I told her that for her this was just a fun event, not a race. This seemed to help.

Event Day:

The emails sent by ACTL said that the race would start at 8:30 am and that we should be at the beach by 6:00. As locals, the idea of being at the beach that early and waiting 2.5 hours for the race to start wasn't thrilling. Matt and Dean are both early birds, so as luck would have it, we were at the beach for about 6:45. We chatted with some of the other early birds and got our paddle boards set up and everyone checked in with the race packages.

Right away I ran into some of my former swimmers, some fellow masters swimmers and some friends of ours. I'm always happy to be reminded that we live in a close, small community. So many of the volunteers are people I'm always seeing volunteering, so many masters swimmers volunteering or swimming, and so many of my former swimmers still swimming, and its been well over a decade since I've coached. I love that my kids get to see such great examples. Examples of community, volunteering, friendship, athleticism. Seeing people of all shapes, sizes and levels of swim capabilities trying and encouraging each other through these events. 

The kids were patient. They were happy to be near the water, and wanted so desperately to start swimming right away. They always trick me with their " we will only go knee deep mom"...then I turn around and they are doing handstands and swimming under water.

My dad surprised us by showing up at the lake. The girls were thrilled to see him and it reminded me of how he always showed up for all my events as a child, youth and even in University. It makes me so happy that he is there for them as much as he has been for me.

Shortly after we ran into some more fellow VKSC swimmers. Being in the same club allows for all the kids to have a large group of friends and teammates that have similar interest, that they can compete with and that will always help lookout for them. The club has always been near to my heart. I swam through my youth with VKSC, coached with them in later years and now my kids are loving swimming too. 

Both girls requested that I paddle for them. With the discrepancies in their times, this wasn't possible. We had a friend that offered to paddle as well. He had paddled for me last year. He was a novice paddler last year and my 2.1 km swim turned into 2.5 when he thought that a 90 degree angle would be quicker to swim than a straight line.... I let Gwen choose her paddler as she is the youngest, has never swam it before and was terribly nervous. I paddled for her, our friend paddled for Dean and Matt swam solo. They each had swim buddies. Gwen graciously donated her pink (least favorite color) swim buddy to Matt so that I could purchase her a new green swim buddy...

This was the first year for the SATL event to happen at Kal Lake, so while it was well done and organized, there are a few kinks that will likely be worked out for next year. The paddlers were unsure of their launch zone until close to the start time. They do not have the option of a pancake breakfast to celebrate after and swimmers didn't realize that they were doing prizes through name draw and were leaving once their swim was finished.

Paddlers launched on the far side of the dock. I was nervous as I couldn't see Gwen, in the end her new green swim buddy was a blessing as it appeared to be the least popular color and she was easy to pull from the crowd once they neared us. The path was to leave the beach through the arches near Alexander's Beach Pub, to swim toward the Pumphouse beach, go around the large yellow buoy back around to the middle of the lake and then back toward the arches again.

Gwen was thrilled that the water was so clear and shallow enough that she could see different things on the bottom. As she veered to the right away from the group she told me the swim buddy was annoying, she took it off and started free diving. She pulled up clam shells, told me about different shipwrecks she saw down below, stood on rocks, swam to different little buoys to check them out. Everytime I encouraged her to swim a little faster or catch the next person, she ever so kindly reminded me that I told her this was a fun swim. By the time the last person passed us and we were officially in last place I resigned and opted to allow the fun swim to continue. I saw our friends and their kids and Dean all passing the last large buoy and head toward the arches while we still hadn't hit the 1st big one. The water was clear and warm, the sun was out, and I enjoyed watching our youngest take full advantage of her paid fun swim.

Dean finished her swim and our friend came back to paddle on the other side of Gwen. We tried to encourage her to swim and pass the swimmers ahead, she laughed and splashed us and kept doing her thing, granted she was swimming more now than she had in the 1st half of the race. Once we passed the last buoy Matt had finished his race and swam back out. This was the push Gwen needed, he told her "try and beat dad" and she went into full shark mode. She passed 5 more swimmers got out and ran across the finish line. I could hear Dean screaming her name and cheering her on. As she crossed the line, they announced her name and that she was the youngest swimmer in the race this year. She got her celebratory snacks and drinks and settled down on the beach.

We met up with our friends and listened to the stories of their races, the parts that were hard, that made them nervous and how glad they were to have swam.  It was amazing to see how many people we knew swimming or volunteering. Our old Head Coach Marc was there watching some of his Kelowna swimmers participate, another great example for the girls to see. I had more of my former swimmers run up to tell me they had raced, it was so great for the girls to see that swimming isn't just something they do right now, its something you can really do for life.

Matt completed the race, he said that he swam with only one leg as he was too nervous to use the other and it was stiff and sore anyway. He made his goal of beating another friend that was racing, but Dean still beat him. I know he will try even harder for next year.

As we were standing there listening to our friends swim stories, they started announcing race winners. Right away they started with the 1.5 KM 10 and under category. Gwen was the only racer at 8 years old. She laughed and humbly went up to accept her medal

In the end we had an awesome time. I'm so grateful for the people that we have in our lives, for the small city we live in and for the people who sacrifice their days to volunteer and make these events possible.

Shredder T-Bone McLean

Today the world lost its very best dog. Shredder was a beautiful sweet lady that has been with our family for nearly 13 years. She was born August 21 2009, a Chihuahua Pomeranian Lhasa Apso mix. I found her on Kijiji and picked her up for $600 in a small town outside of Kamloops BC. She was one of 2 puppies, 1 black haired and 1 blond. They were both so adorable it was a hard choice to make. I sat down to meet them and She crawled into my lap. It was love at first sight. She wanted to instantly burrow into my hoodie pocket. She was sweet and soft and there was no way I was going home without her.

Backstory - my whole life I wanted a dog. I had had cats, but wasn't allowed a dog until I moved out. each year I would think that the rule would change and I would get my dog, but it didn't. I had my dogs name picked out for years before I even met her. One Christmas I was so excited because one of my brothers and my dad kept alluding to the fact that I would be getting something I've always wanted for Christmas. I was so excited. Christmas morning I opened different gifts, all leading up to my dog. A dog collar. A picture saying " A dog is the only relative you get to choose" my heart was pumping, it was finally here, I would have my dog soon. I opened my last gift. It was a stuffed animal dog my brother and his friend had given me. They laughed and laughed. I cried. It hurt me more than I was willing to admit. 6 brothers and no sisters doesn't offer a lot of room for sharing emotions. I pushed those feelings down and knew soon I would be able to take matters into my own hands.

Shredder came home with me. I was house sitting in Armstrong. It was a big house and she was so small, I didn't want her getting lonely or afraid. My employers at the time allowed Shredder to come to work with me. Their dog also frequented the office and they became fast friends. Running the office, playing and "protecting" everyone inside. 

I was playing waterpolo in Kelowna regularly, and didn't want her being afraid while she waited for me to come home, so I got a soft dog carrier that you could use as a backpack as well. She was just a little puppy and would sleep on the deck in her crate while I played waterpolo, then we would drive home together. She liked road trips, liked to meet new people and was great to be around. 

My cousin was getting married and my brother had met a girl online dating in the same state, so we drove down together. Shred of course came with us. My older brother is smart, but when it comes to his siblings can be just this side of gullible, maybe its his ultimate trust in us? Most likely not, however its safe to say that we have all taken advantage of him at some point or another. The drive to Utah is long, sometimes around 20 hours. I wanted some form of entertainment, since I was the once driving and wanted to see what I could get away with. As we drove the 20 hour trip, I convinced him that Shreddie needed water regularly (not untrue) but that she couldn't drink out of a normal water bowl, that he would have to hand water feed her out of a tiny cup. Shredder questioned this the first time he did it, but in the end she didn't care as long as she was hydrated. I wanted my humungous brother take this tiny dog and give her these tiny cups of water for 20 hours....not my best work, but still entertaining enough. We made a lot of stops along the way to stretch out legs and let Shred out for bathroom breaks, when my brother was in the washroom I would feed and drink her like normal. She would look at me almost quizzically. Over the years I think she picked up on when we were playing games and she would play along. When we finally arrived in Utah, I set her on the ground and let her drink from a bowl, my brother realized what had happened, we, or at least I had a good laugh.

Shreddie hated the water. She hated the snow and getting wet paws. She loved the sun, and to always be on watch, in the yard she would run to the highest rock and watch the yard, always using her 10 pounds of ferociouness to protect us. She also loved cheese. Over the last 12 years, I can't even count how many small children I've seen her rob cheese from. Always in my parents kitchen, always a toddler happy to have a chunk of cheese and Shredder would come galloping through the kitchen, jump in the air, snatch the cheese, land and keep running. There would always be a slight delay in the child before realizing that the cheese was gone as meltdown would ensue. Shredder would gobble that cheese up and lick her chops, #noragrets 

Shredder was such a beautiful dog, I once caught a lady trying to put her into her purse at work so that she could take her with her. She was dognapped once and not returned until a reward was offered. She was loved by all, a sweet sweet cuddler, a cheese lover, how could you not love her.

I remember in October 2011 my brother Dean came to visit. He stayed up for Thanksgiving weekend. He helped with some home renovations, we spent the weekend doing our normal family traditions. I was halfway through my 1st pregnancy and he wanted to be there. He was excited to be an uncle. I remember he would hot tub, then come inside and make some food and play with the dogs. He looked up at me from the ground while he played with Shred and Summit and said "what do you think Matt will do when your baby loves me more than him? I mean your dogs already do" and then he laughed and laughed.

Shredder loved food-  she was always hunting something better than dog food. She always wanted what we were eating, wanting my dad to make her some meat, wanting my mom to cut up her already soft food. Once we were having a racoon issue at our house, so Matt set up a live Raccoon trap. He had put a can of tuna in the crate. Over the night we didn't catch any racoons but when we let Shred out in the morning, I heard the trap snap shut, I ran onto the deck and realized Shred wanted the tuna and was trapped. She was less than thrilled.

My parents had some of the sweetest foster boys. One of them loved Shredder so much, we used to ask him, whose dog is this? He would always say his. Once I teased him and said "Im tired of always watching your dog for free" He got up and went and got his piggybank and said " Ok, how much do I owe you?" I told him I was kidding and that of course I would take care of her. He was insistent that he pay and be responsible. Of course I didn't take him money, but I was surprised how responsible he was and how much love he showed for her.

Shredder most of all loved my dad. He babied her. She would come visit and he would instantly heat up some food for her. She got to the point that when we would head up the hill toward his house, she would start screaming in the car excited to see him. She had a specific Yip Yip sound she made for the people that she loved and his Yip Yip was especially loud. 

Shredder was with me for some of the biggest moments in my life. She was there when I met my husband at waterpolo, she was there when I got pregnant and had both of my girls, she was there when my brother died, she was there when some of my dearest friends have died. As I think back, she was always there, my relatively silent companion. Always there to comfort me, not questioning what we were doing, just laying there together until the pain lessened. Before Matt, she would lay in bed on the other pillow beside me, she would look at me and I would cover her up to her shoulders with blanket and thats how she slept. Eventually Matt came along and took her spot, she got pushed to the middle of the bed on the covers. Then came Summit. He was difficult to train and needed to be crate trained, Shred moved to the floor with him. I could tell that she resented them both. Over time as we had the girls and adapted to being a larger family she reestablished what she would accept as her alpha position even if she might have to share it on different occasions.

Last year Shred was injured really badly. She was used to running our yard and was very trim and active. One day she started limping, she had limped before, but it went away same day so I didn't think much of it. A couple of days later she was still limping. Never ornery, just pushing through it and living like normal. Matt took her to the vet who confirmed that her leg was badly broken. They offered to repair the leg or to amputate. I couldn't imagine that amputation was on the table, I was shocked. We repaired her leg, but she had at least a month of exercises and medications to take. My dad, who has always had a soft spot for her offered to take care of her to make sure that she could rest away from the business of our home. My mother, objected. She didn't want a dog, she has enough responsibilities. A couple of weeks in and my brother and I were laughing at how she too babies Shredder. Shredder was getting fat, she was eating well, healing nicely and did not look like she wanted to come home. The nice thing is that we eat breakfast at my parents, and the girls go there after school until I get off work, so we saw her everyday. We could love her and cuddle her and know that she was safe and happy. She became a part of my parents lives and was included in every way. Her leg got better, although this winter with the cold snap we realized that she would not go inside if we were all outside and the metal in her leg would freeze up and she would get too stiff to walk. She would come inside, warm up and the complain that she wasn't outside with us. She loved to follow my dad around. She would wait for him to feed her, wait for their daily rituals. It was sweet to watch. She was my dog, but in the end she was really his and that was ok, she was loved by all of us.

This morning my dad got up and took her for their walk, he said that she wasn't running around like normal, that she just walked alongside him. They got home and she went to lay on her bed like normal. She would lay there every morning after their walk and wait until breakfast. My dad sat there and read. My mom came into the room and noticed that Shred wasn't getting up and told my dad that she thought Shred had passed. She had. She was in the place that she loved most surrounded by people that she loved. She lived a good life and was the best dog. She was there for all of our good times and there for our bad times. She was a loyal companion and today is the saddest day. The only solace I have is knowing that she is running and playing pain free somewhere up there with my brother. Together they are probably causing some mischief and stealing someone's cheese.

Thank you Shredder, thank you for the best years.

Tried skiing…

 Long story short I hate skiing. It is the worst thing you could ask me to try. I’ve never liked it. As a small child my parents would try so hard, buying me a seasons pass, all the gear, and I would walk from the car to the village and inside to the bathroom. I would sleep on the counter curled up next to the radiator. Sometimes I would wake up to women washing their hands or applying lipstick. Sometimes they would ask if I was ok.

Anything was better than strapping on those death sticks and go flying down the freezing cold mountain. 

Flash forward man many years later. I marry… a skiier. Ugh. What was I thinking. Lol. He’s actually lovely and amazing and patient and kind. And has spent so much time teaching our children to ski. They all love it. They love to ski. They miss one day a week of school and also go up one weekend day. We try to stay up the mountain for a week over Christmas and again over spring break. Typically I hang out in the cabin. I hot tub. Once a year the children force me to go down tube town and laugh as I scream in terror. 

I told the girls tales of the few times I tried skiing when I was younger. Of how I tried Milky Way and was going so slow that a kind older man asked if I wanted to walk down the mountain and he would carry my skis down for me. About how my friends waited for so long for me to come down that same run that they sent ski patrol up to get me and had me sled back to the village. My youngest laughed, my oldest was horrified and begged me to not do that lol  

This year I felt left out. I felt like I should participate. So I can be apart of something they all love. Watch my children as they show off what they’ve learned and all of their skills. 

So I did it. I signed up for a lesson and two days of skiing. I didn’t realize how ambitious this was. The ski lesson alone was two hours. A very kind and patient man, Lynn, did his best to encourage me. He cheered my small progresses and encouraged me to stop laying on the bunny hill. To also stop asking what time it was. He tried bribing me with chocolate even. We took the gondola up the hill to walk around. Little did he know it wasn’t just skiing I disliked. I dislike heights, cold, snow, speed, random bumps as you glide up the mountain. By the time we reached the top I feared I would vomit. Lynn, the sweet sweet man he is offered to carry my skis. I looked around completely shocked. Shocked that all of these people were here by choice and that they were enjoying themselves. Don’t they worry as they speed down the mountain? Don’t they fear for their lives like I do? The amount of concerns and questions that fly through my mind as I ski so slowly. Ski so slowly that I’ve seen people walk faster. Will I freeze to death? Why does this hurt so much? Is this really a pleasure for people? Why? Why do they make these boots so dang uncomfortable? How much longer will this last?

We rode the gondola back down the mountain. Clearly my skills are not so advanced that I can glide down the mountain like all of the happy people. It was back to the bunny hill/the zone for me. Lynn thought maybe I was ready for poles. Was I really? This was my chance. Ride up that magic carpet and make it down the measly perhaps 20 feet to prove that I’m not just a hot tubber… hmmmm as I neared the top of the magic carpet I realized. What the heck am I supposed to do with the poles? As I shuffled them back and forth and questioned my position, I hit the top, leaned back, my skis went under the plastic and I fell. It wasn’t a graceful fall either. I felt it. I fell like Eddie Murphys aunt Bunny fell down the stairs at the family cookout. A ski popped off. I rolled a few times. The studly gate attendant, whose roles and responsibilities are questionable, laughed. My instructor got to the top and asked “Dawn, why would you embarrass me like that? People are laughing. Now they probably think I can’t teach”. Fair enough Lynn. Let’s focus on my old lady spinal cord for a minute and see if I can still move. As I looked up I saw the studly & slightly useless attendant had tossed my skis to the side. Conveniently they had landed right next to the garbage. I thought for a brief moment, was that deliberate? Coincidental? Should I read into this? I couldn’t let my kids down. I needed to try again. I popped my skis on one last time. I skied back to the village (less then 3 minutes) and thanked Lynn for this support and knowledge. He gave me some discount coupons for the village and ran away as fast as possible. 

My kids and husband thought we should celebrate with lunch. I couldn’t wait to get this crazy boots off my feet. Whoever designed them clearly enjoyed inflicting pain on people. We ate and then I headed down the mountain. I needed cold and heat and a nap and some pain meds and a hot tub. 

Would I be ok to try again tomorrow? Would I be in pain? Would I be brave enough? Could I be one of those happy ski lovers at the top of the mountain? Doubtful…but tomorrow will tell  

Christmas 2013

Oh my goodness, Christmas with a 20 month old is soooo fun!!! Dean was ripping the same present open everyday for a week before Christmas even came...it was from daycare and she kept saying, "it's a book!" Then would rip it open and read it. When she wasn't looking I would re-wrap it and put it under the tree and the cycle continued.
Christmas morning, I felt so bad. I actually didn't remember to wrap her presents. I looked under the tree and thought...man that looks empty. Then it all came back to me where I had hidden all the gifts. At least Matt's and Riley's were all ready. (Riley sleeps over on Christmas Eve)
Matt quickly dragged Dean into the kitchen while I wrapped her presents...which of course being unprepared I didn't wrap...or set up presents that required assembly...This, I didn't know, would cause some major anxiety for Dean...she was so mad while I set things up.

Dean locating which present to open first

Making her small tears, one at a time

Riley helping Dean...

Dean sitting in her dolls carseat...

Getting babies ready for a walk

She never liked her own playpen...not sure why this was so appealing...but was entertaining for us all...now the bars are permanently bent..lol

Dean received an industrial strength metal childsized shopping cart from my bosses for Christmas. She demanded to be put in it and pushed around. We tried reasoning with logic and rules, but Dean of course refused to listen...

Her face is so angry while Riley tries to take her out of the shopping cart...I tried my best not to laugh out loud...

Dean got to use big Dean's old stocking...what a special priviege...she loved all of her goodies that came from inside!!

We loved spending all of our holidays with our family...how amazing it is to be able to live so close to our loved ones!!

Temporary single parent life...

I really have to commend single parents or parents that have to parent alone most of the time because their spouse is away. It really is a lot of work. In my case I still don't have to work as hard as a stay at home mom, but being on your own for those few days/weeks really is a lot of work. It always reminds me to be grateful to Matt and everything he does for Dean and I.
Sucky parts to being alone: have to play good and bad parent all the time by myself (I think I am slowly starting to lose credibility with her...), cooking for 1 adult and 1 toddler, being alone, cold bed and nobody to warm my feet, nobody there when I randomly decide I want to say something...although Dean does talk back now...not that all of it makes sense lol...it is almost Christmas and we are not near ready!!!
Good parts to being along: more bed space! I am always reminded of how much Matthew does around the house and for Dean and I and how much I miss him already and how much I love and appreciate him.

Today has been a long day. I don't think anyone in the family got any sleep last night (well maybe Caleb) Monica went into labour again last night...she is too early...I think her due date is Feb 8th 2014. We are all excited to meet the little lady, but at the same time nervous that she wants to come out so soon. We are all praying for the best. They managed to stop the labour but Monica has to stay in the hospital for now.

Dean was adorable all day...gave the best cuddles and kisses and helped with baby Kyler...she was truly such a blessing all day. I wanted to write down a conversation we had this week so that I wouldn't forget it, was adorable...was one of the first times I've been proven correct that she does listen and understand what we are saying to her...

Dean is a neat freak, she always has to be clean, she spills on her shirt, we change it, her hands are dirty we wash them, her diaper is dirty we change it, we walk to school in the snow and each step she has to brush the snow off her boots. The other day I was laying on the couch and she comes up to me all upset "mom, it's dirty" holding out her hand..."oh, ok...all clean now" as I wipe her hand off quickly (I didn't see any dirt) "No mom!! My finger..." holds finger out "Oh ok, I'll clean it" wipe off her finger and feel something kind of wet and chunky while I mutter to myself " ew...what the heck was that?" Dean thinking I was talking to her says " my bum..." ...I laughed so hard and was so grossed out....her diaper was dirty so she tried to take her pants and diaper off in one fell swoop and touched the dirty part...needless to say it was bathtime hahaha...I love that girl!!

Visit to Papa and Uncle James

Sundays we always go to church in the morning and then head over to Moma and Papa's for lunch and dinner...sometimes uncle James is there. Dean adores uncles James...when he comes to our house and rings the bell she just squeals with delight knowing that he is coming to play.
The bell she is reaching for is my parents dinner bell. Come 5:00 pm everyday they ring it and dinner is served...seems to work pretty well, although the first time Papa rang it when Dean was very little he scared her half to death and she just cried and cried...now she loves it...
Dean and Papa are BFF's...no joke...they are always scheming and planning behind my back..usually to go do fun things that don't include me or anyone else...Papa comes over for a visit and Dean turns to me and says "bye mom"...

Dean's one and only tub turd

We knew this day would come and we really hoped that it wouldn't. I rememeber Keenan pooping in the tub on a regular basis...always around 4 pm. Once I even walked in right when it happened...later it would happen and he would realize that he had pooped and would grab it and put in on the side of the tub as if to say " sick...I dunno who put that here, but it's gotta go...I'm having a bath". I prayed that Dean would not have the same bath time routine...luckily for us her one and only poop in the tub happened on papa's watch...fewf!!!