My teen daughter, Diva, was in her first public speaking competition yesterday. She’d told me that I was the subject of her speech, but refused to allow me to read it, or even to perform it for me.
I was unable to attend the competition, since there was no way Terror Toddler (or Cubby) would cooperate for the three hours it took. During nap time. And, since I don’t drive, Wolf was the only game in town for getting her there and back.
Well, my darlin Diva girl won bronze! We’re so incredibly proud of our girl, and wanted to share her speech with everyone…which means putting it here, in the blog.
So, to that end, here is her speech. Enjoy! Any comments left will be read by her.
Well, first of all, I had to figure out why I chose this topic, which was actually kind of hard, because I honestly didn’t know. It just clicked for me, and I had this speech in my head, ready to be put down on paper to deliver to you today. That’s when I realized; I chose this topic because I had the perfect candidate, and I couldn’t imagine doing this on anyone – or anything – else.
Her name is Domestic Imp, and she’s the most spectacular mother in the world – and I’m not saying this simply because she’s my own, but because of what she does, what she pushes herself through every day, simply for the love of her children.
My mother has a permanent disability in her right arm called RSD, which stands for Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy. This is also known as CRPS which stands for Chronic Regional Pain Syndrome. It starts from her shoulder and goes all the way down through to her fingertips, and basically what RSD is is where the nerves are hyper-sensitized, so that if you brush her arm, it feels like she’s being rubbed down with sandpaper. And there are stressors for this, ladies and gentlemen. If the air is damp, after heavy rain fall or snow melting, or stress, physical touch, these will amp up her pain levels and make it even harder for her to do what she does.
In 2006, two years before my mother was injured, she started homeschooling me. Two years later, after the injury, do you know what she told me? “Yes. I will still homeschool you. I will still do the things that you need me to do, even though it hurts me,” And she still does. To this day, ladies and gentlemen, she still homeschools me. She homeschools me, my nine year old brother, my seven year old sister, and plans to homeschool my two baby brothers when they’re old enough.
Perhaps you’re wondering why my mother’s arm is the way it is. Allow me to explain. Without going into detail, my mother worked as a medical professional, and was working with a mentally unsound man when he grabbed her arm and twisted it, leaving her with a torn tendon, damaged nerves… things that could have healed, but for whatever reason didn’t, and left her with her disability.
Ever since that fateful May 30th, 2008, we’ve learned to compensate for and work around the RSD. One thing I can credit my mother to is being a fantastic actress. You never know when she’s in pain, or how much. We could be at a mall, or just out anywhere having a good time, and she could be biting her lip from the pain, but you don’t know until she actually comes out and says, “I’m in a lot of pain and need to go home and lie down,” At which point, we’re gone.
But, of course, there are days when she’s in a horrible mood because of this because, c’mon, she’s not perfect, she’s human. When this happens, I’ll shoo her off to bed for the afternoon and I’ll babysit for the afternoon. I don’t show it at all because, let’s be honest, I’m a teenager, guilty as charged. But I do love to help my mom, she’s awesome and I know it. So we do take turns making supper every night, and when it’s her turn I’ll do the jobs that need two hands. But if I’m busy with schoolwork or something else, she’ll chop the potatoes, she’ll put the pasta on to boil, she’ll do the two handed jobs that hurt her simply because I’m busy and she doesn’t want to bother me. My father and I have told her repeatedly to stop this, but we’ve yet to make any headway there.
Even before my mother’s injury, she was an incredible mother. She met and married the man I call my father when I was four years old, and before this she had me as a three year old, my nine year old older brother, and was working about three jobs on average just to keep our heads out of the water. However, we always had good Christmases, good Birthdays, good Easters, even though she really didn’t have that much money to spare at all.
There is an amazing song out there by Jamie O’Neal, called ‘Somebody’s Hero’. This basically says that she’s not a rock star, not a superhero, but she is somebody’s hero; her child’s. She’s her child’s hero, and there’s nothing, nothing in this entire world that compares to a mother, to which I whole-heartedly agree.
So, now you know why I chose my mother to be my ordinary Canadian doing extraordinary things. You wouldn’t glance at her twice if you crossed paths with her, if she sat next to you in church or wherever, but to those who know her and what she does, she’s the most spectacular person in the world.
Link to the Jamie O’Neal song