They should have come with a manual. Or a teacher. Or meds. Or something.

They should have come with a manul. Or a teacher. Or meds.  I thought that this week when I was dealing with "Landon" issues. I am SO ill equipped for this job called parenting. Its been a little over a year now(one year and two months-but who's counting really) since I became a SAHM. (Stay at home mom. Cute little letters....kinda almost make a four letter word....or they are four letters.....but of course mean the exact OPPOSITE of all the "other" four letter words...right...?!)  Anywho.....recently a few hospice companies contacted me about returning to "work". I say this in quotes because I now know I could do that type of work with my eyes closed, two hands tied behind my back while walking backwards for 12 hours a day-in comparison to my "job" now. Someone should have warned me. Sent up a flare. A smoke signal. Sign language. Something. Its kinda like the things that happen to you when you get pregnant. There are MANY details that are left out. Why is this? OH! Yes...its because all the moms do not want you to know about said details and then you have the option of not participating along with them. Cause some of those "details" will make you run for the hills. Seriously(as in NO ONE told me I would pee funny when I was pregnant. Nope. And wasn't that a SHOCKER.) Moving on. :)  These companies called.......I responded. But not with the usual bulldoggedness. I got excited. Responded. But then LEFT them alone to call me. Instead of the usual mad attention I would give these things I let life happen. So....in the middle of these calls that week and this week...my life continues to happen. Alex finds love. With Madison. At school. And they dance. Or as he says "We REAL danced Mom!"  His whole face lit up. The next day he gets in the car. I asked him if he danced with Madison. "Nope. I pooted. And she didn't like my stinkness. So she didn't dance with me."  I almost peed my pants laughing. No, I explained....girls do not like to be pooted on when dancing. The following day Alex gets in the car. "Mom. I didn't poot. And we danced today."  Sweetest silliest sentence ever. I fall madly in love with my four year old....all over again. This I can do. This is what I would miss if I was running around crazy working. This I do not need a guide for.  Landon, during this same time is having a bit of ...um....."transition" difficulty in first grade. Yea....how come when we were in school it was not called "transition difficuly"?  It was called  "being bad. And if you're bad again I'm going to have the principal spank you, and then I will spank you when you get home."  Transition solved. Or rather I never remember having any issues.  Seems Landon is "active" and "social" and "does his own thing", "an independent thinker".  Which translates to "gets in trouble for talking too much and not paying attention...while trying to make the other kids in class laugh."  Will do ANYTHING to make others laugh. Case in point. Older kids on the school bus teach Landon a few not so nice inappropriate hand gestures and words. (See earlier blog about learning awful things on the bus. I just KNEW it would happen. Deep breaths)  Landon goes to class.  Sings a funny song, and SHOOTS A BIRD to the class, in FRONT of the class. I get a note....hand written by Landon that says he will not use "THE" finger in class anymore. Accompanied with a picture of the finger-circled. He IS an artist after all. Someone. Shoot. Me. Now-in his defense he has no idea wha this means. But my first thought is Oh DEAR LORD the teacher thinks we are a bunch of hill billy idiots that run around cussing giving each other the finger all day.  Perfect. Landon and I "discuss" his situation. Alot. For an hour. I know...probably over kill. But I ALSO thought to myself "He wants so badly to please everyone, and make people laugh that he has no impulse control. Which means he will do ANYTHING. Which means he will learn really bad words and use them. And then some kid is going to give him a funny looking blue pill and tell him to take it, and he will because he will want to make everyone happy. Then he will be TOO happy and want more...and then he takes too many and really doesnt pay attention in class and then he will have to go to REAHAAAAABBBBB." All because of the devils on the bus. I hate the bus. He should be a car rider. Its all MY FAULT.  See-Need a manual, or a teacher, orI need a blue pill, or SOMETHING when I had them.  Because I have no clue. And while that may be a bit over dramatic, I do worry. And this was our first, and certainly not least foray into Landon wanting to please others. And he has to be perfect at everything. If he doesnt know something he gets SO upset. And mad. (NO idea where he got that. ;)  So, how could I go back to work in the middle of all of this?  I'm missing a manual on raising them, and certainly cant just "wing it" for a few minutes every day when we get home. Right? :)  Who knows. I will return. But right now, at this moment, minus manuals and teachers and meds.....this is my job. And how I do love it. My other job...it will come....in its own time....when its suppose to. Just like it always does. I think Ill go write a manual....I have some friends who might need it.....;)

Sucess and Failure..........

Success and Failure……

     Spurred to thought by a friends question about success, and how one defines it, I’ve been thinking about success…and its counterpart…failure. Because how does one truly have one without the other.  How do you define success? How do we define it as a society? It is so liquid. Meaning it ebbs and flows, changing from person to person. Do our goals that we set, and meet, then define our success? Or do the failures that we have on the way build our success?  And if you have no goals…..are you in effect not successful and thusly a failure?  And how many people do we know have “succeeded” but are immensely unhappy?  All of this has lead me to two things. One…I may have a bit too much time on my hands, and two…..I must have a need to examine my own successes and failures or I wouldn’t still be thinking about this a week later.  I’ve set many goals in my life.   Completed many of them. Felt successful.   But strangely once that has been accomplished….I find that I move on, and forget the success and focus on new goals…or new failures in not reaching those goals.  Interesting. This thought process over the last week has spurred me to look at some past successes…mostly because I of late have felt like a failure………or that I have been failing at many things. More on that later.  But I think back to school and college….academic degrees, deans list, president of honor society, etc…..and this dogged determination that paid for school. Was a goal. Honestly never an option in my mind to NOT do well.  Success. I just did.  After graduation  it was to work with abused kids. Did that.  Just was never an option not too. Success. In the middle of it never had a goal to get married……but did….and then failed at it. But amongst that failure I believe was great success. I met one of the smartest people I know…and he is someone I am proud to call a friend.  We had wonderful times together. So while at the end of it I felt like a failure, if you have this opportunity in life to meet and create wonderful lasting relationships, that cannot be a failure. So is it both?  The dissolving of my marriage led me to a career path that I did not enjoy, insurance sales and investments. It was a way to make more money  and I  knew that I had to be lisc to do it, so I did it.  Success.  Hated the job but it gave me the marketing skills to move to hospice. Which I loved. Success.   Among all of this at one point found myself pregnant, coming to the end of my job, and single. At that time all I could think was failure. This was not part of my plan. Got a new job in 5 days. Figured it out. My husband and I now figured it out. And we are a great success!  We work at our successes and failures as a family every day. And we now have the most beautiful two boys in the entire world.  Although the kids were never a “goal”.  Ironically I never wanted children…..so one of my greatest successes in life has been something that was never a “goal”. I didn’t crave to be a mom, had no desire.  Use to laugh and say that my biological clock never got turned on.  So maybe there was another plan for me…for us….that I didn’t know about allowing me to become a success.   In the midst of it I wonder daily, hourly, minute by minute if I am succeeding at being a mom. But I do not think I am failing….only learning. Interesting. John says I bull dog things, or that I’m stubborn when I get something in my head. I tend to agree.  I have to do it. I DO do it. Classic example…we move to Atlanta and I’m a stay home mom for a little while. We knew it would be hard financially at first. He walks in one night, I’m tired and want to order a pizza. We can’t. We do not have the money…for. a. pizza.  I have a job in 5 days. Somehow in my head not having enough for the pizza was a failure. So I fixed it.  Success.  Right?  Or just “bulldoggedness”?   I end up working for a tiny hospice(15 patients) in a sea of 200 competitors in Atlanta. Someone makes the comment that Grady Hospital is "not an account I want. You will never get in. Theyre entrenched with other hospices"  GIVE ME Grady.I wanted in. I am sitting in front of the new CEO within months. Created a new contract. Success. Flat refused to fail.  My health.  Failure.  Can’t seem to fix it.   And I research like it’s my JOB daily, read, work out, eat differently, don’t eat differently,….still nothing. I at this point have more knowledge about macros, micros, nutrition content of every fruit, vegetable and protein, what causes inflammation, what doesn’t, what is organic, what isn’t, what’s a neurologist, GP, rheumatologist, naturopath, chiropractor etc.……but failing. Or am I?  Because I know have a VAST knowledge base that I never would have had.  Which has, on occasion allowed me to help others.  But I find lately it is the OVERWHELMING  feeling of that I am going to FAIL at getting better that causes me to do nothing. A good friend once said, do not let the sheer weight of what is before you and your fear of failure in effect cause you to fail. That is me.  I HATE to feel like I’ve failed. And that fear can be immobilizing.  Religion….is there a success or fail here?  The obvious answer is yes. Success…you get to go upstairs……fail….well from what I understand  it’s all downhill.  What about the not so obvious answer?  This area is so vast to me, so interesting….and something I have not even begun to examine. Do I believe in God.  Absolutely.  Do I believe in a God that is hurtful, rigid, condemning? No. I believe He is loving, and forgiving and beautiful.  And that he wants us to treat others as we want to be treated. And that we ALL, well aside from a few, probably love the same one.  Success?  Failure?  How about needs to be examined.   So upon examination of the ramblings it still begs the question….what is success?  I am coming to understand that it is viscously personal.  And that maybe it’s not goal oriented, but many times our success come from unlikely unexpected places. But WE individually have to feel, breathe, and accept our personal success. As well as embrace our failures….because among those failures that we so strongly feel and internalize probably lies a great lesson…a success in its own right if you will.   So while I’m not sure I have the answer I want, and quite frankly wondering if I have simply been speaking in circles, this rambling has forced me to re-evaluate, and maybe see my “successes” and “failures” a little differently.  What is your definition? J

Just say ommmmmmm.....

Just say ommmmmmmmmm…….

For those of you who do not know I have been having some strange head issues lately. (Please try to refrain from the obvious jokes here.)  Since Feb. I have had a funny little nervy twitchy thing at my right temple…which at times seems to pack bags and move around to twitch in various places on  my face, and, well, head. Very. Annoying.   And can lead to a multitude of self-diagnosis(especially if you ever worked as a clinical social worker, or a marketer for hospice-for 7 years-but I digress).  So I went for a second opinion this week from a neurologist. (First neurologist…aka Google It Boy…didn’t work out so well.  As in MRI shows a strange small mass and he says “hmmmm…not sure.  Lets google it.” And then does so. On his computer. In front of me.  Yea. You’re fired.)  So, Dr. Franco, neurologist or aka  clinical psychologist/meditation instructor, saw me this week.  Within the first ten minutes he had decided that I am: Type A, perfectionist, driven, demanding, controlling, and assertive.  Hmmmmm….can I get a smaller diagnosis for that sir….oh yea….we are here about my head twitches not my personality issues.  All of that being said, he decided that part of my issue is that I am stressed and need to relax.  Funny, I didn’t FEEL stressed until my head and face started twitching 24/7 for 4 MONTHS STRAIGHT.  Insert increased anxiety here.   (Not to mention an x-ray of my neck shows that it is completely straight. Where we are evidently suppose to have a curve. The culprit? Stress and tension. Causing the muscles to pull my neck out of alignment. Which will cost $1000.00 and 12 visits to a chiropractor to fix.  Insert more anxiety. Good grief.)  Sooooo, my neuro/shrink places all of my paperwork on his desk, puts his hands in his lap…and says “Breathe with me.”  And he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in, and then breathes out slowly and LOUDLY. (Did I mention that Alex is laying on the FLOOR of the doctor’s office playing with the door during this. He stops and then looks at the doctor like he has two heads.) I, in the meantime, have been taught to respect my elders(he’s at least 65. And c’mon…has to be brilliant right? He’s a NEUROLOGIST for goodness sakes) and I am trying with everything I have not to laugh, or fall off the exam table. Or both.   So. I breathe. Evidently too quickly. Because Oh Wise One tells me “No. Too fast. Do it again. Slowly. Deeply.”  Oh. Boy.  I comply. He seems pleased and tells me that I need to start doing yoga and meditating daily. I want to know if it will stop the twitch. He doesn’t know. Just thinks it will be helpful for my stress.  Um….stop the twitch…stops the stress. Damn. I should have been a doctor! J  We do discuss a few things, he has a few other theories, which I will not bore you with here. But I leave with orders for an MRI, massage therapy, and meditation. Which leads me to the point of this story. Decide to try my mediation tonight. Haven’t been feeling well, not enough sleep, not enough gym time. All leading to body aches and twitches of some sort. So I decided-“Yoga and Meditation! 8:15 p.m. Sharp. Promptly after children have been put to bed!”  I tell husband as he is getting Landon to bed that I am going to the “Big TV room for yoga/meditation and that I am not to be disturbed.”  The look on his face was hysterical.  He laughs…then says “Good!”  Interesting.  So……I will set the scene for you. It is raining lightly outside. Perfect relaxation noise! Close the door to room and turn channel on TV to 857  Zen.  Perfect slow Asian inspired music begins to play. I dim the lights. Nice. No noise. Decide to go straight to down dog. Ow. Damn. Forgot to warm up. But isn’t yoga kind of a warm up….maybe I should run in place first, then do yoga, then meditate…..ah. Forget it. Move into tree pose. Wobble. Fall. Damn. I guess cussing is not allowed during the relaxation process…should stop.  Drop to the floor for cobra and simple stretches. Breathe. In…..annnnnnnd…..ACHOO!  I sneeze. Three times. Good Grief. Decide to simply stand, legs straight, head down and place hands on floor. Maybe extra blood flow will stop the twitch. Breathe in…..snot. Running down face. Gross.  Not relaxing. Back to floor. Stretch legs. Notice that not only do I need to vacuum but I see two toys under the couch that Alex was missing.  Maybe I will just move straight to the meditation, breathing, relaxing part.  Criss Cross applesauce my legs(sorry-what my kids call Indian style J ) place hands on legs, breathe in, look at TV-and notice title of new music is Kamasutra Moving. Um……isn’t that only on Skinamax After Dark?  Laugh hysterically. Ok. Get serious. Hands on legs. Breathe in.  Breathe out. Twitch. Twitch. Breathe in. Breathe out. Twitch. Breathe in..twitchy twitch twitch. OH FOR THE LOVE!  I must note here that the “more still” I am the more noticeable the “twitching” is. Thus the reason I try to KILL myself at the gym….I can’t feel the twitching when I am doing enough lunges to set my legs on fire and  make me want to throw up. You know…trade one pain for another.   Ok. RELAX.  Breathing……Breathing……Twitch. Oh hell. I quit.   And while I will try to re-visit this meditation thing(I mean….c’mon-he did mention the whole control Type A thing and I WILL conquer and learn to meditate perfectly!) three times a week-I am thinking the order for the massage may be my next path of choice.   If I’m gonna twitch I might as well get rubbed while doing it!  Maybe I’ll even breathe correctly and just say ommmmmmmmmm. J

"I Got This"

"I Got This".  I hear this simple three word statement from Alex hourly.  Hes been saying it for awhile now.  Its usually in reference to whatever he is doing.....and a resulting comment of me wanting to "help" him do whatever it is he is doing.  As in getting dressed...underwear on backwards. Me: "Alex its on backwards. Let me fix it."  Alex: "No. I got this".  Putting on shoes, I got this. Riding Landons scooter and falling numerous times, I got this. Turning on water in bathroom sink that is 2 feet too high for him, I got this. Putting bike helmet on.....after two months of "I got this" he just recently "got it" this week.  But thats just it.  He never gives up, and he does eventually get it.  His tenacity amazes me.  I didn't realize how much so until the rare moment I was watching(ok half listening) to the Today Show this morning and Katey Couric was discussing interviews she had done recently with people and what drives those individuals.  I hear her say that Matthew McConaughey's dad always told Matthew to never say "I cant".  But yet to say "I'm having trouble with this right now."  Which leaves room for it to be fixed, or changed, or conquered, or just DONE. Alex also says this....daily.  "Mom, I'm having a little trouble here."  This is usually said after 100 attempts of "I got this" and he realizes he needs assistance.  But very rarely do I hear I cant.  Yesterday for example he was playing on the pbs kids site.  He couldn't get it to work.  I watched him struggle for 10 minutes, and then finally said "Mom...I'm having  a little trouble over here."   Its the funnies thing I have ever heard coming from a 4yo...and the best thing.  So I thought I would take some of his attitude and apply it to my life.  We all have ups and downs, peaks and valleys.  I'm still struggling with this crazy head issue, but have found myself pushing forward and going to the gym regularly anyway.  When I don't want to.  And just doing it.  Hernia still there(yep...note to self not to do heavy squats when you have a hernia...you will result in looking like an alien is leaving your tummy when done. Not. Attractive.)  Just noticing beautiful happy days.  Not lamenting about what is past, what I don't have or what I CANT do but what I CAN.  In every aspect of my life. Kids, marriage, working from home or in the home. Taking a piece of Alex's wisdom is perfect. I notice he doesn't really feel stressed, or get upset-much. (I will provide a disclaimer here that his brother does not take this same attitude and is quick to get frustrated and say I cant.  Getting him to Alex's point is a whole other ball game! :)  He just does his thing.  And learns.  And usually gets whatever he is doing. Eventually.  Amazing what our little ones can teach us.  They are so wise without trying to be. So open. And knowing.  It would behove many of us to quietly listen.  And Learn.  So I guess I have a new mantra. And I may periodically have a few "I'm having  a little trouble over here(s)."  But otherwise...bring it.  Cause guess what? "I got this". :)

I am slowly posting all of my stories on here. This one...snowed in sickness induced hysteria

Snowed in sickness induced hysteria.

There are two definitions to the above sentence.  (1) As it applies to the mommy.  The feeling that you are going to go completely crazy and become hysterical after dealing with two children who have been sick and snowed in for a week. (2) As it applies to the children.  Forget that they are sick, only recognize being snowed in and become hysterical children running madly through the house, like wild monkeys, for five days…give or take another days 3 for illness. Two totally different things. When combined, frightening.  Allow me to give you a glimpse of today…just to further clarify….

Landon had strep throat, which he gave to me, and then gave to Alex.  I wake up this morning realizing I’ve got to take Alex to doc. I don’t want to move. Hubbies at work, and given that I’ve been sick off and on for over a month, I do NOT want to move.  Well, that and I’m in a brand new king size bed.  That I laid in listening to hubby snore all night.  (side note: and this is NO exaggeration. Hubby has a crick in his neck. Laid down beside me around 11, propped himself up on three pillows, pitifully declares he will never get any sleep because it is too hard to get comfortable, and ON THE NEXT BREATH, a snore come out! Seriously?! For the love!) So I guess until we get a bed that comes included with ear plugs no matter how big it is….we…I…may not get much sleep. Anywho. Go upstairs to get kiddos. They are each holding two cookies.  And there are Reeces candy papers on the floor.  (hubby brought home the candy…these are the things that happen when mommy is sick and doesn’t shop! J ) I look at Alex. Who smiles, cookie in mouth, and says, “I got a cookie mommy!”  Like he won the lottery.  Cough, Cough. “Want one?” um. No thanks. I look at Landon. The known offender in the house. “LANDON, those are for special treats and for daddy’s friend that was here last night! Not breakfast!”  Landon, “Oh.” What is he…16? OK-so bad mommy for not waking up when they did, but now I have to make the decision.  Try to force in some protein to counteract some sugar or just say screw it and go get dressed for dr. Cut off some organic cheese(like the organic parts gonna make ANY difference…!), give them some coconut milk and call it a day.  I throw on the obligatory hat(see previous stories….not getting shower and fixing hair..I’ve only got30 minutes to get there!) and go to make sure they are dressed.  They have boycott MY choice of clothes and are in ALL CAMO. What…are we hunting something on the way? Pick your battles, battle two-Alex and Landon win. (they won battle one-cookie battle by default.) Ground rules for doctors office….do not run in parking lot, do not TOUCH ANYTHING with your hands.  Keep your hands in your pockets. DO not sit next to other children. Do not breathe the same air that other potentially sick kids are breathing. Just. Sit. Still.  Out of car. Landon RUNS to the front door, on ice, through the 2 ft space of snow that is left. Alex follows suit.  Well I guess if he falls and breaks his silly neck we are in the right place to get it patched up.  He arrives at the front door and announces…”Hands in pockets. NO touching!” Hmmmm. Nice. Get into office.  Lose their minds. Hands out of pockets and ON ALL FOURS climb up the steps in the TV room to sit at top and watch a movie.  Then Landon  wipes his nose. With his hand.  My face turns inside out. Momentarily flash to another week at home with mysterious sickness and  start throwing sanitizing wipes at them like life preservers.  Wipe! Wipe!  (Again-mom hysteria) We go back.  Landon, who is TERRIFIED of strep tests, immediately asks nurse if Alex is going to get “the stick in the throat”. You know…the torture device. We discuss it and she agrees to do it easy.  To Alex. Landon also gives her the run down on all of Alex’s symptoms, while playing HOPSCOTCH in a room that is three feet wide. I finally, forcefully, put him in chair. Please stop honeys weren’t getting it.  On with test. Alex opens mouth, nurse takes out sticks, and LANDON looses it.  Literally tears up, ZIPS his jacket all the way OVER his head, flops on to the chairs sideways and starts thrashing.  Time freezes.  Me the nurse and Alex all look at this headless child who is having nothing sort of a seizure. Alex looks at me and I see the “I’m gonna chicken out cause brother seems to think it’s gonna be bad” look in his eyes.  I pull the head out of the thrashing jacket and tell him in no uncertain terms, in front of the nurse, if he doesn’t stop my beating(oops…I mean spanking) will be way worse than the stick in the throat. Hysteria-mine and his.  Nurse seems amused.  Does test, Alex gags, Landon almost pees himself.  Ugh. Move on. Test positive. Doc gives him a once over and while he is commenting on all the hunting gear, Landon begins to discuss that daddy has a gun. Actually three guns. With LOTS of bullets.  That he uses. And they are under the bed. Really?!?! Doc looks at me funny, I look down embarrassed and realize that Alex has been walking around this entire time with his shoes on the wrong feet. Someone. Shoot. Me.  Time to go. To the grocery store for our drugs. Alex, in buggy. Landon, out. Fruit section-no more candy!-Landon wants to help. Takes apple, from bottom row. Yea…ALL the rows were full.  Wanna guess what happens when you take something from the bottom of a tower?! Pass lobsters, freak out to look at lobsters. Look at lobsters. Landon sprints down grocery isle. I realize at some point Alex has gotten free and is doing the same thing. Doesn’t he remember he is SICK? That’s it. I’m done. Home……lunch and strictly imposed quiet time. Get the usual smart mouth. I guess the hysterical, DO NOT MESS WITH MOMMY look in my eyes stopped all that real fast.  During which they fall asleep. Battle three: Mommy! I leave them to their nap, during which I later decide to go check on Alex. He’s on his back. He’s sleeping soundly…except….his lips are BLUE??!?!! What?  Oh no…..he’s not breathing….it’s the strep! He caught a mystery illness at the docs office from the floor! I lunge for him, he wakes up, gives me a very mean what the hell are you doing woman look? Oh, wait. Purple popsicle. Gave him one at lunch. Guess it stains lips blue. Hysteria.  Good news, Landon goes back to school tomorrow. Alex will be well in 2 days, and hopefully all sign of craziness will go away. Well-we will see. Hysteria does make for wonderful stories ! J

Thoughts, fear....acceptance

This I wrote the other day......

Thoughts, fear…acceptance.

Acceptance will find you in strange places. Mine. On a treadmill, 45 minutes in to my gym time, heart rate running at 175bpm, and realizing there were no explosions. Acceptance.  Coupled with crying.  Which can make one look foolish unless you fake like its sweat. J  The acceptance I am speaking of is meeting me where I am.  Realizing where ones happiness lies is fulfilling. Mine….other than my family, is the gym.  But this thing that I crave has been chock full of fear….for about 6 years. (Insert pregnancy and subsequent baby having…and raising).   What use to be an outlet, has turned into my nemesis.  I am REALLY happy lifting. I love, love feeling strong. Cardio , ok mildly happy, J but I do not hate it. My favorite job in the whole world…… when I was a trainer. I am one of the silly ones that gets excited about my gym time.  I STILL to this day read constantly, voraciously  about health, fitness and training.  I could apply this knowledge to anyone, train others.  Myself- I’ve sadly done nothing consistently. I have been my worst client, my worst nightmare.  Life has somehow inserted fear into what was once my outlet, making it a love hate relationship.  A bit of clarification. Landon, my non sleeper for 4.5 years plus 10 hour work days equaled no gym time and a body that almost shut down. Literally.  Which led to a body I only did not recognize but one that felt AWFUL.  Psychologically, simply this sucks.   Move, change jobs, get new job.  And still do not recover. Non-sleeping children and again, workaholic.  Always something. Stupid face twitch a few years ago, heart acting crazy, very strange muscle knot thing in stomach, severe endometriosis, a new knot in tummy(hernia which is now named Fred), and now this stupid head/temple pressure face tingly headache thing. (Sorry, no name for it. J ) All of these things I let, or they did, get in the way of the one thing that I LOVE and that helps me keep my sanity. Why?  Fear.  Fear of being sick, or doing too much, or going too hard……not for me, but fear for my kids.  I could give a rats ass if I puke, or feel bad, or pass out. Have done things in the past to myself I would never do to clients. But I worry about me FOR my kids. Which even as I write it sounds utterly ridiculous.  I do not want to ever leave them without a mom. Do not want to be sick and unable to care for them. I’ve been the type that if something is wrong, and the doc hands me drugs and says “This will make you feel better”….my first question is always “Will it go away without the meds?” If I get a yes….you can bet your ass I won’t take them. (Case in point one quarter of a dose of Percocet  after a c-section, not smart. High pain tolerance?  Probably.  Stupid…absolutely. Was too afraid of side effects for nursing.  Again-fear.  )  I said screw it today and just worked out the way I use to. Pre babies.  Avg heart rate for one hour.  About 170.  Is this what the “standard” avg heart rate should be for someone my age. No.  Did I feel fine. Yup.  Did anything explode.  Nope.  Was my head still doing the pressure tingly thing.  Yes.  Was my heart rate too high for too long.  Who knows. And who cares.  Quite honestly when I was training 6 years ago, 110 pounds and in the best shape of my life how much you wanna bet it did the same thing then. But the difference is….no kiddos, no worries. I just did what FELT right.  And quite frankly it is not even a “reclaiming” an old body issue anymore. It’s the FEELING I use to have of health, wellness, completion that I miss. And then today finally being  really really pissed off that I have let my fear cheat me out of many lost days.  My need for control over all situations beyond my control has cheated me as well.  But today I didn’t care as much.  I just let it go.  And I felt good.  Worked out for an hour without realizing it.  Could have kept going.  And that’s when it hit me.  45 minutes in. I have to accept where I am. What I can do. And do it. Which seems to be such a simple concept.  And then leave everything else alone. Like my dad says don’t worry about it. “There’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”  Do I want to be the girl in the corner doing the HIT training, balls to the wall, or running for an hour consistently?  Yes.  Desperately.  I crave it . Can I do that right now…..no-it makes me feel like crap.  And who knows if I will ever be able to. However, I am capable of much more than now. Have I consistently even taken care of my own personal self in the matter that would allow me to one day be what I can be. No. Fear. It will de-rail you. Fear of failure…failing my family-or God forbid actually trying and failing myself.   So, all this being said, will I still pursue getting my noggin checked out.  Absolutely.  This “non-fear” thing doesn’t lend way to stupidity or neglectfulness.   But I am tired of all the probs that crop up. I can still work out. I can still play with my kids. There are many who can not.  One day that may all be taken from me. Well…it will be. It will be from all of us. And I do not want to have regret  anything, or lived in fear, or not have been who I truly believe I was meant to be.  I recently read a quote that said “Show me what you are committed to now, and I will tell you who you will be in five years.” (Erik Ledin)   So what I am accepting is that commitment  to push a little harder, give way to the fear, and believe that it all works out.  One step at a time. J

My first post on my blog!

Seriously. Too excited to have created a blog. Finally!  Somewhere to post all of my silly stories of the boys, bore everyone to tears with my rants, and generally annoy all of  my friends and family with much to do about nothing. Hopefully I will have a few good "nuggets" from time to time. But, in the meantime, I'm here...wohoooo! More to come! I know you wait with bated breath. :)