Just To Say I Did It

I had two goals tonight.

One, to dye my hair.

Two, to post something, anything, on this ol' blog.

Well, 9:00 rolled around, and Joey is finally down until sometime in the single-digit morning, and I'm pooped.

That means hair dying is most assuredly out for the evening.

Dying your hair while exhausted (especially when you use the reddest, stainy-est shade that I fancy) is a very silly thing to do. Sort of like singing karaoke when you've had a few too many drinks

Karaoke, by the way,

is on the very top

of my

"Things I'm Terrified Of"

list.

I'm seriously, seriously

afraid of singing in front of people.

It sounds like torture.

Spelling outloud is second on that list.

Or like buying pants a size too small thinking that they will fit in a few weeks... very silly.

For a brief moment I considered just crawling into bed after my shower and calling it a night. But then I decided that if I went to sleep without accomplishing either of my very small goals, I would feel pretty pathetic.

So...

Here I am.

Rambling on.

...

I discovered a few things this afternoon.

1. I'm clumsy.

2. I'm tough.

3. It is probably time for a new pair of gym pants.

This afternoon I was running around Downtown Everett, doing my little work-out thing, and my foot caught my pant leg. Without any warning I was falling quickly toward the pavement. I hit both my knees, my palms and then rolled to my back.

That's when I realized I'm clumsy... and also when I discovered that it might be time to move to a smaller pair of pants (Note that I did not pre-buy smaller pants, that, as we have already discussed, would have been very silly).

I realized I was tough when I jumped right up, smiled to my running partner (yes, I was running with someone who witnessed the whole thing) and continued my workout (which I will tell you included 45 jumps up onto a 20 inch box. I feel like such a stud!).

I now have knees like a seven-year old. I had planned to wear a skirt this weekend while hosting not one, but two parties - one baby shower and one 50th birthday - on the same day, but I may have to reconsider. I'm pretty sure scabby knees are not on the summer's hottest trends list.

...

I have several other stories that have been in my head to tell you this past week, but it is just so tricky to get to the computer with energy and creativity to communicate the things I want to.

I hope you understand. And I hope that changes in the next few months.

Until then, I will leave you with the oddest conversation of the week:

Aunt Gwyneth: Your face looks so thin!

Me, in my head: Oh, I like where this is going!

Aunt Gwyneth: So thin! Have you been throwing up a lot?

Me, in my head: What?

Me, outloud: Throwing up?

Gwyneth: Yes.

Me: Um, no. But I have been working out.

Me, in my head: I guess I better start wearing make-up again.

Please, tell me, when you see that someone's face has thinned out, is your first thought, "Have they been throwing up?"

I would really like to know.

CrossFit

I think we might have a problem.

Here I am, writing happily about my issues with undies, thinking that only my gal-pals bother to read what I post, only to discover today that the trainer at the new gym-thing I'm going to reads it too!

GAH!

I walked in today in my bright pink girly top and messy hair (my hair is always messy these days, but especially on work-out days because it takes SO MUCH effort to get out the door and to class on time) and he says, "Your blog is hilarious!"

GAH!

GAH!

That would be a double GAH!

It is hard enough to act normal when I'm doing things like dead-lifts and pull-ups (don't worry, I have to do the most baby version of pull-ups and can hardly manage that) - things that I've never done before and look really awkward doing, but now I have to try and act normal while doing those things AND running through my mind all the ridiculous things I've said here recently, thinking I was just chatting it up via blog with GIRLS.

Maybe I need to change the name to No Boys Allowed.

Despite the awkwardness I felt at having my trainer know that I own pink panties, I am really, really enjoying this new way of working out.

I like getting out of the house by myself. I like learning new things (and everything I've learned so far is new) and I really like waking up a little sore, knowing that I'm getting stronger and stronger.

So three cheers!

For CrossFit

For a brighter outlook

And

For the hot shower I'm about to take.

Life is looking good.

Good Gifts

This season of my life has been pretty rough. Kids are hard, moves are hard, a spouse in school is hard... sometimes hard things just pile up. That isn't a bad thing all the time, it is just how life goes.

When I was pregnant with Joey, I felt so lame and I truly worried that I wouldn't have any friends when it was over.

Boy have I been proved wrong!

Not a week has gone by without someone calling me or texting me to see how they can help.

Last week I was almost delirious with fatigue. I started composing a snarky blog post in my head (please tell me you do that too) about all the things that people CAN'T help with... it was going something like this:

"How's it going? Is there anything I can do to help?'

"Well, no, actually, there is NOTHING you can do to help. Because I'm pretty sure you don't want to take my baby who wakes up every two hours or less in the night, and let me get some sleep, and I'm pretty sure you don't want to give us a free car so that I'm not stranded in the country and I'm.... "

Blah blah blah, I'm a whiner.

But then, I started thinking. Sometimes I let things stay awful for a little while and then one day, *snap!* I start problem solving.

So I started thinking through what people COULD help me with. I realized that a large part of what is making life hard right now is that I am so, so, so lacking in sleep.

I originally assumed that there would be no way to get a full night sleep, because who in their right mind would bring home someone else's baby and subject themselves to that if they didn't have to.

And then I thought of who.

Sweet, sweet Rosemary and Josh. Here's why I thought they would be up for it: 1) they are awesome 2) they don't have kids yet (one on the way) so they will be able to catch up on the sleep they miss 3) they love kids... A LOT 4) they think that anything that is a new experience is fun and worth a try.

A night with a newborn is definitely an experience.

So, I called Rosemary and she without hesitation said she would have my baby overnight!

Do you hear the angels singing?

What a gift. If you ever encounter a mom to a new baby who is not getting enough sleep, offer to have her baby overnight. You will bless her socks off!

Or, I might be the only woman on the face of the earth willing to part with my baby for a whole 14 hours just 2 months into his life. If I am, I'm okay with it.

The day following Joey's big sleepover, another of my friends, Ashley, who happened to be the recipient of The Meltdown, came and picked Jack up. Even though he had a snotty nose she took him out ALL DAY with her two kids and left me with hours and hours to take another nap, organize my room from the move, and just enjoy Joey.

Jack is a handful.

You can tell because the first thing my mom friends tell me when they bring him back is, "Jack did so good! He only hit one kid!"

I'm hoping he'll grow out of that.

So for Ashley to take Jack with her own 2 year old and infant was a major commitment. And one that I so appreciate.

But she wasn't the only one! Allison, another dear friend, has taken Jack on several occasions. And this weekend, she took BOTH of my babies with her one toddler. She asked me in the morning if she could do that for me and before I could say anything she said, "Don't worry. I know what I'm getting myself into."

Oh the bliss of a few hours all to myself!

I caught up on some emails, unloaded the dishwasher and, you guessed it, took a nap.

I love my friends!

And now, not wanting to be left out of the gift-giving extravaganza, my very own Andy has lined up childcare for me for Monday, Wednesday AND Friday nights for the WHOLE MONTH of May so that I can go workout.

It is weeks like these that make me wonder, how did I get so lucky?

I may stop thinking that when I go to my first workout.

Because remember how I told you that Andy now looks like Hugh Jackman?

Side note:

Why didn't anyone tell me that

in the original post

I wrote "Huge" Jackman

instead of Hugh?

I wonder what other horrible

mistakes I will find when I go

back to the posts from my pregnancy and

these first few months.

I shudder at the thought!

It is all thanks to a workout theory... system... I don't even know what to call it. But it's name is CrossFit.

So when he arranged for childcare, he also signed me up for an introductory CrossFit class.

I will be doing this.

Be careful on YouTube.

I just got sucked into

like 40 minutes of looking at

people doing CrossFit.

Craziness!

Am I insane?

Yes.

Do I really wish I could look like one of those girls?

Yes.

Enough to workout like I live on the Biggest Loser Ranch?

Perhaps.

We shall see.

I hope I don't puke the first class.

What's Bigger Than A Baby Step?

Today, my friends, today reminded me what it is like to have order in my life.

Two days ago, after a complete meltdown, I decided that even though everybody says that after a baby you should rest, give up having a routine, and just let things go until you are feeling like getting around to it, that there are a few things that I need to get in place as soon as possible to keep my emotions and a healthy sense of self in a safe place.

That was an incredibly long sentence. I will try and avoid that in the future.

Let me back up a bit.

After Jack (albeit, a year after) I was in the best shape I have ever been. Since having Joey, and assessing the "damage" my body sustained through pregnancy, I have been more self conscious and spiteful toward my body than I have in a very long time.

It got to the point that I actually canceled a few get-togethers and have dreaded social gatherings (usually my lifeblood!) because I haven't wanted to be seen. I fear scrutiny and feel as if I have failed the universe because I am not back in my single-digit size six weeks postpartum.

Besides feeling disappointed in my body, I struggle with disappointment in my parenting. I loose my patience a lot more often. I forget to feed Jack meals and instead let him survive on spoonfuls of peanut butter and pretzels. I criticize myself each time I have to make a choice of which child's needs to attend to first. At several points in each day, somebody just has to cry for a little bit because I can only do so many things at once.

Combine a crushing sense of discouragement when I look in the mirror, with the brutal realization that I am not as "good" at parenting two kids as I imagined I would be. And you have a recipe for disaster.

In a wave of emotion, Andy sat on the bed with me and listened to me lament all the things I disliked about myself in this season. The way I summed up my emotions to him was to say, "I miss feeling like I have it all together." His response was so insightful and honest and wise that it totally redirected those dark emotions. He said, "You never feel like that. You think you did, but let's be honest, you never do."

Deep Breath.

True.

I look back and paint a picture of myself and my life and the timeline of Jack's infancy with bright and cheery colors. I remember the good and even add a little shimmer to make it sound better... but the reality is, there is and always has been something I am adjusting or fearing or looking forward to.

That truth released me from the trap of all the things that I am not, or thought I should be, or thought that I was. It moved me to look at the things that are draining me and decide which of those things are simple realities of this season that I will wait out, and which of those things I can change.

My first step was to get back to the gym.

This morning I took both boys to the gym. I felt so accomplished! After a few hiccups with getting the boys settled, I ran on the treadmill and then did some ab work and lunges and all those work-outy things.

I did it.

I made it to the gym... in the morning even.

And tomorrow I will go again.

And the day after that, I will go again.

Over the past several years I have learned a few things about myself. And one of those things is that my physical health has an enormous impact on my emotional self, and my emotional self has a profound impact on my spiritual health, and then it circles back to my physical self...

So, after a day of working out, I was motivated to try a few other things that I have been trying to figure out how to mange with two kids. Tonight Jack and Joey had their first bath together! It was terrifying and I was afraid Jack was going to dump water all over his wee brother, but he didn't! We made it!

And THEN, after both boys were bathed, they were both IN BED at the same time. Understandably, Joey will wake up in a few hours and need to be fed again, but still, both boys are in bed at the same time!

Each of these moments combine to make me see that yes, indeed, at some point, either three weeks or three months, or three years from now, order will be restored.

And in three weeks or three months or three years, there will be another set of challenges that I am sorting out and fears that I am facing and accomplishments that I am celebrating.

So friends, let me end by encouraging you. Whatever you are trying to sort-out or fix, or are just wallowing in, it will end at some point. Decide what you can do to make it better and recognize what will need to be endured. Take a moment to be real with yourself and make sure you aren't looking behind and painting a picture that is a little more glittery than it was when you were living it. If you are wishing for what was or what should be, stop. Look at and enjoy and live what is right now.

You can do it.

I will celebrate each moment with you!

Harder Than I Thought

Oh friends.

Today is a day that I realize how consuming having a toddler is. 

Last night, Jack woke up every half-hour, almost to the minute for about two hours. That means that I also woke up every half hour. It means that my head is woozy this morning and my eyelids are very, very heavy.

Despite the fatigue, I am in my gym clothes, ready to head out the door for a training session. 

Oh.

Wait.

Nope.

I am in my gym clothes, yes. But I am not about to head out the door. Because for the second day in a row, Jack has chosen the exact moment I am packing all of our things for a great workout to flip the switch that turns him from happy, playful, giggling Jack to crying, inconsolable, tired and cranky Jack.

That means that I am currently listening to him try and settle down for a random morning nap. 

I think he must be cutting another tooth.

Teething is such a mystery. 

So while I have some extra time on my hands, let's have an honest talk about this triathlon, shall we? I am tired of training. And when I'm miss a training session, I am tired of feeling guilty and worried about how I'll do in the race. 

It is much harder than I anticipated to make it to the gym all the times that I want. 

The good news is that when I was shaving my legs the other day I noticed some really remarkable muscle definition and a few weeks ago I had a stranger compliment me on my arms in the store. So, at least there is some benefit to the working out.

Despite the difficulty of trying to fit in all the workouts, I am still glad I've signed myself up for this. I know that if I didn't have a goal in mind, I probably wouldn't make it to the gym at all. Something is always better than nothing. Agreed? Plus, I'm learning a lot, and when I do make it for a run or swim, I feel fantastic. 

But the months are counting down and the days are becoming fewer. In just 11 weeks, whether or not I'm ready, I will be racing. 

Aghhh!

What was I thinking?!

Gym Fail

I just got back home from my most lame gym visit ever.

Last night I coordinated with a friend and we both agreed to meet at the gym this morning. Usually I forego Fridays because I have my neighbor's baby who is younger than Jack.  Getting two non-walkers out of the house at the same time is just a whole lot of work.

Side note:

How do mums of two kids do it?

I get it when they are like three

and up, but what about

those moms who have their

babies two years apart?

Sigh.

I guess I will just have to wait and see

how its done when my time comes.

And for extreme clarification,

this side-note has not been an announcement.

When I posted this mystery surrounding 

Baby Broccoli,

a close friend of mine sent me an excited text

asking if my surprise was that

I was going to tell Andy I was pregnant.

So now, I feel paranoid about any comments

that could potentially be interpreted as

"I'm pregnant!"

I'm not. 

But I decided that even if it was a whole lot of work, I would feel so glad that I got there and snuck in a run.  I wish I could say it was an extra run for the week, but alas, it is not so, this week was lots of...well... lots of not going to the gym, that's for sure!

So I fed and packed up both babes and made it successfully to the car.  I was feeling quite smug and optimistic about the day. I was running on time, which is pretty much a miracle, and I remembered everything.  

The drama started when I arrived at the child watch center at the gym.  Mind you, this will not sound in the least bit troublesome to you, especially if you don't have kids, but for some reason, the combination of all the following just blackened my mood.

I'm still trying to rub away the scowl that has settled on my eyebrows from it.

First: There were too many babies (you know that whole ratio thing) and I had to wait 15 minutes to drop one baby off.

Second: I got a little hand slap (figuratively people... and kindly... but it was still embarrassing) for bringing in a baby who was not a member.  I can have up to five kids on my membership so I assumed it would be okay, only it wasn't.  They still let the extra baby in, and still smiled at me, but I felt so stupid.

Third: There were no treadmills open when I finally dropped off both wee ones.

Fourth: I don't really like ellipticals

Fifth: I got on one anyway and thought I would just stay busy until a treadmill opened up. One did just a few minutes later and I jumped at it.  But before I even got situated another woman came up and said she had been waiting for it (okay, my gym just got fancy new equipment and the last few times I've been the sign-up sheets have been a mystery, so I just assumed they were still not in order and it was first come first serve.  They aren't.).  Hand slap #2.

Sixth:  I took the walk of shame back to my elliptical.  As I was getting situated my ipod some how flew away from me and my machine and I had to take a second walk of shame to retrieve it from the middle of the floor.  Boy do I  know how to cause a scene!

Seventh: Two treadmills opened up about 15 minutes later and I waited a few minutes to see if they would be claimed.  I got off my machine and SIGNED UP and then hopped on.  About half a mile into my run I realized that in my rush I forgot to wipe down my other machine.  Rude.  I felt like everyone was just watching me and scorning me for my bad gym manners.  

Eighth:  I don't really like the word eighth.  It looks weird and I feel like I have a lisp when I try and say it.

Ninth: In the weights circuit I got stuck behind a very, very smelly man.  Perhaps it was my punishment for my bad manners.

Tenth: I quit early.  I wasn't in the mood.  So I picked up my boys and headed to Starbucks for some caffeine and then home for some lunch.

That is the end of my pathetic attempt at a Friday workout.  I don't think I'll bother next week.  

But here is the thing. 

Why did it faze me so much?  Why did it make my outlook so bleak?

I don't want to be that controlled by external happenings.  But some days I just am.  

Did I not get enough sleep?  Did I get my caffeine too late in the day?  Was I mentally weakened by the revolt being staged by my face that has resulted in an unattractive complexion? 

Who knows.

What I do know is that "This is the day the Lord has made."  Regardless of hand-slaps  or embarrassment or "waking up on the wrong side of the bed," I need to learn to rejoice.

I firmly believe that Jesus wants me to live joyfully.  Joy is fruit in my life that grows when I am in community with my God.  

Today, weeds of frustration and irritability started to take root around my precious joy.  I want to be proactive to rip them out before they affect the growth of the fruit that I crave.  

So I put on my gardening gloves and start pulling.  All the way down to the roots.  As I pull, I remember that this day is just as important to God's creative plan as yesterday, and as tomorrow.  I want to live it the way He intends.  I have no way of knowing what work He is doing in me as I choose to sacrifice the weeds and nourish the fruit. 

This is the day the Lord has made.  I will rejoice and be glad in it. 

Embarrassing But True

At this very moment Jack is dozing off to sleep.  I am staring at a house that has been ransacked by a lovely, long, messy play date and am toying with the idea of taking a nap instead of restoring it to order.

Oh the luxury of motherhood.  Deciding that naps rank higher on the priority list than dishes.  

But before I cozy up in my down comforter, I have a confession.  

Every Monday I wake up disappointed.  Disappointed that it is not Tuesday.

Care to guess why?

Because Tuesday is Biggest Loser night of course!  

I am hopelessly addicted to the Biggest Loser.  

I'm not sure why I've made such a deep and long lasting commitment to a reality show, but I have.  

Confession #2: I cry almost every episode.  I know Jillian and Bob are over the top with the self-empowerment speeches, but I just can't help but think, "These people may have never thought of themselves in any good terms."  I also cry because I can just imagine the change in their lives when they are 100 pounds lighter.  

I'm a sucker for any sort of make over, really.  But these people are doing the work.  They are learning how to change the course of their lives.  It is good to see people opt for exercise and healthy eating instead of surgery or pills.  I really get emotional when they are able to go off of the 13 medications they have to take each day or when they can fit into some outfit they thought was just a dream.  

Confession #2.5: Pill-popping and quick-fix "health" gimmicks really get me riled up.  I am very sad for our nation and its struggle with obesity and health in general.  I know I'm a bit hypocritical - I know I could do better for my body (read confession #3) but I would say that I live by an 80/20 scale.  80% good for me, 20% for fun.... sometimes 70/30.  But I ache for families that consume only meals from boxes or drive-thrus, or whose primary entertainment comes from a glowing box.  How can so many people just not know how to care for themselves?  

I better step off my soap box before I get too squirly. 

Confession #3: When I wake up on Mondays and face the disappointment of waiting one more whole day to see the next chapter in the Biggest Loser journey, I usually console myself by doing some sort of baking.  

Then I eat whatever I've baked as I watch the Biggest Loser.  

Don't tell me you don't do the same thing!

Brownies have been the craving lately.  Or chocolate chip cookies.  But I think my baking phase is dying down (luckily, the more I'm in the gym, the less I want sweets).  Maybe I'll go back to microwave kettle corn.  Maybe. 

Confession #4: When I go to the gym on Wednesday, I visualize Bob coaching me as I run on the treadmill.  There is no way I would want to face the wrath of a Biggest Loser trainer, so I run extra far or push just a little bit harder than I do the rest of the week because I have a fresh mental picture of someone cheering me on.

By the way, I added

a whole mile

to my run today.

I'm feeling pretty smug.

That brings my mileage to

TWO

miles.

Woohoo.

Oh.

I guess I still have more work to do.

But we've got to celebrate the small things.

Right?

Confession #5: Biggest Loser is my gateway reality show.  I scorned reality tv for so long.  Now, not only do I watch B.L., but I also keep up with Survivor.  WHAT!?  Why?

I don't know why!

I just do.

Confession #6: I'm blushing from all this self-revelation.  I hope you still love me even after you know my shameful secrets.

Now, I have about 30 minutes left to close my eyes and ignore the scattered toys.  After that, it is back to the pick up, play chase, tickle tummy, start dinner routine.  

I have not baked anything yet today, and I just might resist this week.  After all, I want Bob and Jillian to be proud.

And I want to not feel my bum bounce when I add my next mile.

Permission

At 11:00 this morning I was pretty sure that I was a domestic wonder woman.  I had already been to the gym, done a load of dishes, baked whole wheat pumpkin muffins (which I have yet to taste) and made my own pumpkin spice latte to save myself $3.40. Mentally I was making plans to walk Jack to the store to pick up some fresh, crusty bread for the gourmet dinner I plan on making this evening, clean Jack's room (a project that has been on my list for... um.. about three months) and tackle the laundry.   

A beautiful autumn day can inspire like that.

However, it is now after 3:00 pm and I'm tired folks. My sink is already full of the next load of dishes which has squelched my cleaning motivation and Jack is uncommonly cranky and needy which makes it very difficult to settle into a major project. 

Sigh.  

So I've changed my plans.  

I'm just going to go with the flow.  

No one has asked me to be a domestic diva.  That is all my own ambition (and perhaps not a holy one).  

I have a sweet boy who I think would really enjoy a walk to the park and a ride on the swing.  I have a loving husband who will be home soon and will rave over whatever meal I put in front of him.  I have a house that is warm and will survive yet another day of disorder. 

So why stress?  I made muffins right? I say that is a pretty great accomplishment for the day.  

So if you are having one of those days too, where your "I'll hopefully get this done today" list is woefully un-checked, I hereby give you permission to set it aside.  Order is good.  Accomplishment is good.  But friends, let's be okay with just having fun once in a while.  

So, be free!  Frolic and delight in the simple pleasures of today.  The lists can wait until tomorrow.