manababies

Leica Love.

2012-01-05T00:50:00.003-05:00

I am trying to fall in love with photography again. In that past life I was the art student who wanted nothing more than to create fresh, clever design. Sadly the career path lead to nothing but the boring, static, and mundane. Only to be saved by the most challenging yet rewarding role of motherhood. I soon had three muses to mold and raise, photographing each and every moment so that I could forever preserve the innocent coos and crocodile tears.

Now they've all grown up (at least out of babyhood) and moved onto grade school, leaving me a good portion of the day to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.

I know I want to teach. And I've chosen the path of a yogi. However, I have had to take a good hard look at my life and the way I was leading it, for it was hardly a path towards peace and enlightenment.

And then there is that creative side of me that I occasionally find when I have to take photos of another birthday or outing with the kiddos. Lately I've found that I actually still like doing it, even if it means devoting some time glued to the computer.

Then one day someone lead me to this site: I Love My Leica. And indeed, I have fallen in love. Sadly it's the sort of love that is way beyond my reach due to the hefty price tag. But I can still admire from afar. Sigh.

The decision has been made.

2011-12-23T12:29:00.003-05:00

Today I am going to chop the rest of my hair off. Over the months and years my hair just grew and grew and grew, having only visited the salon twice a year (if that) for as long as I remember.

A few weeks ago my beautiful and talented stylist, a friend from the long ago days of high school, convinced me to go just above the shoulders, which shortened the length by about 8 inches. I like it, though I am realizing in order to avoid the "just rolled out of bed" look, I have to actually make an effort to style my hair rather than resorting to the "bun with bangs" route that had pretty much become my signature look.

But maybe, I was thinking, something even shorter might be nice. I tried on a teal blue wig my 11 year old owns that is in the style of a graduated bob. I like it, as long as I can ignore the cartoonish color, though my daughter remarked that if I were to cut my hair even shorter then I will no longer look like her mother.

Little does she know, I went through most of my life with short hair. I might have grown it out for my wedding, only to chop it all off shortly after she was born. Since that time I just let it grow, perhaps due to laziness and lack of time, but mostly because I felt the need to hide my post pregnancy (x3) body behind a huge mane of hair.

I can't say the latter really worked, but now that the baby making years are long behind me and I feel I am at an "ideal" weight, I think I might be ready for something with a bit more spunk and sass, even if it will require that I visit the salon more often than two times a year.

So is this something I am ready to commit to? In the back of my mind I know men prefer long lustrous locks on a woman so maybe this is my feminist subconscious telling me that it's the perfect way to keep all that testosterone away. Far far away.

Etc., etc., etc.

2011-12-22T07:16:00.001-05:00

I started drinking coffee again -- and suddenly I am viewing the world with rose colored glasses. As I sip my morning cup of joe, I am wondering what on earth I was thinking these past several months when I decided I no longer needed this extra oomph.

More sleep, moderate exercise, and an improved diet. That will give my poor adrenal glands a break, or so I thought. But things happen. Like the holidays. And birthdays. And moving into my own place. All three happening at the same time is enough to keep me up until 2 a.m. unpacking odds and ends, wrapping this and that, hanging up that extra string of lights on the miniature Christmas tree that is decorating my new front porch. Etc., etc., etc.

It's just as easy (and probably more reasonable) to just go to bed at a decent time and continue with the shenanigans when most people are awake. But I just can't help myself. Being able to do all of these things without anyone telling me to do otherwise is a treat that I will relish until my body finally tells me to stop with all the nonsense and go to bed already.

But I'm used to putting my body through extreme measures. And speaking of which I seem to have committed to the San Francisco Marathon in July. The pre-holiday toast last night with 6 of my cousins sealed the deal. It sounded like an awesome idea after that second glass of red. As does unpacking another 5 boxes and finishing off my Christmas shopping now that I have caffeine flowing through my system.

I'm sure somewhere down the line when I've had more sleep I will reread this post and wonder what crazy person wrote this rambling blog entry. Surely my clone, the evil twin who makes rash decisions like moving into her own place (yes, S and I have broken up) and running marathons and splurging on a fancy shmancy coffee maker because she thinks it's really super duper cool (and because her parents are really generous as well).

If I were to focus more on living in the moment, I'd say that I'm really really tired, but really really happy. It's peaceful and my kids are content, counting down the says to our Christmas festivities with my family and their dad's family. Even when the holiday decorations have been put away and the novelty of a new place has worn off, we will still be amid peace and happiness. And that is the best Christmas present anyone can ask for.

Eleven.

2011-12-14T18:30:00.003-05:00

And let's not forget my daughter's 11th birthday, which was yesterday. Actually, I feel as though we have been celebrating since last Saturday when she had a birthday party sleepover with her closest friends. And then she will continue with yet another party with her dad's side of the family this coming weekend.

So does this mean I'm officially a mom of a tween? Girls are indeed dramatic, so I can already see where this is all going. I know I can't tell her what to wear, as indicated by the tearful protest in the backseat of the car on the way to our Thanksgiving festivities because she felt that I made her dress like her little sister. What? That cute leopard print skirt with military jacket wasn't cute? Yet, she was right. That is definitely something her little sister would wear and I felt bad that I ignored her pleas to wear what she really wanted to wear (leggings and top) because I wanted her to dress up for a change.

But I have to say my oldest child is as sharp as a tack. I rarely have to hover over her when it comes to schoolwork, except for the slight challenges she has had with accelerated math this year. She loves to read. She loves makeup (even though we don't let her wear it in public). She's feisty yet sweet. Actually, she's a lot like me in some respects, especially the feisty part.

As she slowly enters her teenage years, I hope it continues to be a smooth ride, most especially for her. I hope I've equipped her with enough self confidence and sweetness to make these coming years memorable for all of us - in a good way that is.

Happy Birthday, big girl. Your mommy loves you.

Stressssssed.

2011-12-14T18:20:00.002-05:00

In the last week and a half I think I've lost 5 pounds - all due to stress. Which isn't such a great thing because I think once you hit 30 it becomes harder and harder to hold on to lean muscle mass, so that means my metabolism is going to be shot if I continue down this path. And yadda yadda yadda. Honestly, the things that happen to you as a result of all the stress is enough to make you stress out even more.

Well, tomorrow is sort of a big day. I shouldn't say "sort of" because it really is a big day. I'm hesitant to say what this is, even though I'd be the first person to voice my irritation with anyone else trying to be so cryptic in a blog or on Facebook posts. I think most people I know on Facebook do not read this blog because they don't know about it, which is a good thing, yet I'm still hesitant to say what's happening tomorrow.

I will say that despite the stress of getting to this point, I'm excited about this change. And when I'm not being bombarded with reasons why this could possibly be a mistake (mind you, this is only coming from one person in particular), I foresee a bright 2012 full of possibilities and opportunities. It's the year I will finally make money, get out of debt, maybe even buy a new car. This is a big step considering just a few years ago I didn't have the confidence to take all three of my kids to the zoo or to the grocery store or even to the park on my own. I let the fear consume me to the point where I lost my confidence, and soon my independence.

But I'm not there any longer. I'm finally at a place where I like myself and the only thing I want to change is anything that poses as a red flag. And there have been plenty of red flags....

So here's to tomorrow. Cheers!

Confirmation.

2011-12-11T12:47:00.005-05:00

I'm not a very religious person and I don't normally believe in "signs". But over the past few years I have been contemplating yet another big change in my life. But something would happen to steer me away from thinking about it... fear, self doubt, or a (false?) belief that people are inherently good. Who knows what it might have been, but when I found myself thinking about making this change, yet again, I wonder why I feel as though I am stuck in a vicious never ending cycle.

I don't think I make decisions on impulse all that often. Sometimes what might be great idea is turned over and over in my head and the idea doesn't seem all that great any longer. So that cute sundress at the department store is often put back on the shelf. The online shopping cart is filled, and then emptied. The "famous last words" I could have spoken were instead internalized, avoiding yet another argument. So naturally, this time around I have gone back and forth, back and forth. What seemed like a great idea one day would just be a passing thought the next.

And then I decided to just go for the plunge. I dared myself to make that change because I was just fed up with that vicious cycle. And of course there is always that same person to tell me that I've made a mistake, that I'm crazy, that there is a much much better solution. But all it took to validate everything I have been feeling is a small comment my oldest daughter made in passing to her brother. This is the right thing to do... the best thing to do because it is more for them than it is for me.

December 15, 2011 is when everything is going to change, paving the way to a bright and wonderful 2012. But not before a whole lot of sweat (which I can handle) and grief (which I'm not sure I can handle).

Time to get serious about my OM

2011-12-01T16:41:00.003-05:00

Well, the first quarter of hatha yoga teacher training is coming to a close. I am learning a lot from it, but my biggest challenge is staying focused. I feel like I have to fill every single minute of my 6 hours of free time while the kids are in school, and for some reason this intensive training wasn't intensive enough because I found myself trying to figure out other things to dive into simultaneously. I considered enrolling at a community college to tackle some prerequisites for physical therapy school. When that seemed too overwhelming, I looked into massage therapy school since most of those required courses would satisfy the prerequisites I need. But alas, that schedule didn't mesh well with my kids' schedules, and I really didn't want to have to hire a nanny to drive them to their activities. Not to mention, would this imaginary nanny cook them a healthy dinner and tuck them into bed?

I think this was a hint that I needed to just focus on my yoga. I wasn't practicing enough, nor was I allowing myself to become immersed in it, and the only way to become an effective yoga teacher, for I feel it requires much more mental investment than the fitness classes I used to teach, is to truly live it.

However, there is a lot to be improved upon as far as the bees that keep buzzing around in my bonnet, or that dark cloud that follows me overhead when someone is pushing my buttons. I know I am far more laid back now that I used to be. But I really need to learn to just let go. Stop fretting over the past, stop poking at the future. Focus on here and now because the present, what is happening right now, is what I can control (to a certain extent).

Only then do I think I can really do this the way it is meant to be done. Not that there are actually rules or guidelines, or even a stereotype of what a yoga teacher is. But this isn't something that I can fake, which is probably why I used to get stressed out teaching my Bodyflow class. The key is to be yourself, so no matter how hard you try, your true self will manifest whether you like it or not. It really is impossible to put up a front and try to be something you are not, especially when your actual goal is to help other people.

Well, that's my take on it. In the mean time I'm knitting scarves for my kids' teachers. And I hope to finish a good handful so that I can give some as Christmas presents. Otherwise it will be a lot of last minute shopping, which seems to be what I end up doing each and every year, regardless of how much I think about planning.

Thanksgiving was a blast, which is expected with my big extended family. We ran a 10K turkey trot in the morning, then ate lots in the evening. I'm so thankful I moved back here, for my family gives me a much needed sense of security. Maybe that's why I constantly have these gears going in my head, thinking about what to do, what to do. But for now I just need to sit, breathe, and relax. Focus on yoga, and everything else will fall into place.

Cleanse revisited.

2011-10-26T17:18:00.002-04:00

I think there are some misconceived notions about what a "cleanse" actually is. I learned that there are all different kinds, some of which involve a whole lot of fasting and/or drinking various liquid concoctions. The "cleanse" that I participated in for the first time last May, and again participated in again this fall is actually an inflammatory cleanse. Meaning, we give up foods that are known to cause inflammation in the body for 21 days. Sadly, most of the food on this list are things that I love, so the idea of making the challenge last 21 days comes from the premise that it normally takes someone 21 days to kick a habit. I'd say for the most part it works for me. Well, except I didn't exactly give up red wine.

This time around I don't know if I was just more relaxed about it, or if I was just being very lazy. Often I was unprepared, having to defrost a frozen fish fillet in the microwave before throwing it in the broiler (which actually works wonderfully). Or just picking on whatever was in the fridge or pantry. Processed or packaged food was a no no for the most part, except for things like prepared lentils and all natural baked chips from Trader Joe's. Due to my lack of preparation, the cleanse sort of felt like drudgery this time around, and it didn't help that I couldn't participate in the post-marathon foodfest that everyone else got to indulge in. And a nasty cold made me extra irritable and feisty.

But now that I'm over the cold and most of the soreness in my legs is gone, I feel FABULOUS. the cleanse ended on Monday, with a fun little potluck at the yoga studio, but I am going to continue with it for as long as I can, slowly introducing things like chicken breast back into my diet just for the sake of variety.

As for red wine, I had a glass here and there, though not accompanied with the usual cheese and crackers. The three go together perfectly, and though I miss it, I'm not sure if I am ready to introduce that daily indulgence back in my diet.

But after today's frigid 4 mile run at the prairie path, I'm craving a big bowl of piping hot soup. Anything to help me defrost a little. And to think, it's only going to get colder. :(

Finally

2011-10-18T12:30:00.002-04:00

After a week long hiatus I finally laced up the running shoes and went for a short run with the YMCA running group. The group leader is planning on doing an ultramarathon this weekend. Fifty miles. Unbelievable.

It was a big group today but it was also the perfect day to run: around 50 degrees, overcast. I wish we could have had that weather for the marathon.

Right now I should be stretching, for I felt a whole lot of tightness in my quads. But I'm still feeling lazy. I'm not sure if it's just the residual blahness of my post-marathon cold. Or if it's just all the other every day things on my mind.

Actually I think I was in a chipper mood this morning because my parents are in town, stopping by on their way to a new contract job in Massachusetts. They took the kids and I shopping and I got a new pair of boots, a poofy down vest, a couple of sweaters. It's the sort of stuff I wouldn't normally buy for myself since I usually put any extra money into athletic gear. So yay, finally some variety in my wardrobe, sans spandex.

I am about to head out to meet my parents for lunch but I was hoping the UPS guy would show up with my new iPhone case. Yes, I finally got a smartphone, an iPhone 4. I am still blown away by that little thing, but now that I have one I can't imagine NOT having one. I understand why those crazy people were standing in line outside of the Apple store waiting for the iPhone 4S, which has a handful of additional nifty features. But for now I'm still trying to get used to one small device that can do so much, though I'm sure I barely scratch the surface.

I suppose I should get on with my day. But the warmth of my laptop keyboard feels good on my half frozen fingers.

Own the city.

2011-10-11T13:20:00.007-04:00

That was the theme of this year's Chicago Marathon. OWN the city. The commemorative t-shirts have all the areas you pass through during the 26.2 trek, from Boys Town to Chinatown. This year we had high temperatures again. The bank sign near the 20 mile marker read 83 degrees. Though I really couldn't complain since I recall that very same sign read 90 degrees last year.

I was hoping for many things for this race. For one, I was hoping to break the 4 hour mark so I could earn my spot in a seeded corral next year. I ran a much more difficult marathon last May in Duluth, MN (Grandma's Marathon) in 4:02, so I was hoping Chicago's fast, flat course would allow me to shave off those two extra minutes. But unfortunately, it was not to happen this time around.

Being in the open corral with "the masses" (and with 45,000 runners, it is indeed the masses) means being stuck at a slow pace for a good 5-6 miles. Even turning the corners slowed us down to a walk because it was too crowded to move. I was getting frustrated, most especially at the handful of runners who decided to start walking at this point. Any opportunity I had to pick up the pace was stymied at every aid station when almost everyone seemed to slow down in order to replenish.

By the half I was more than 6 minutes over my projected time so I decided to just kick back and enjoy the race. It would have been a shame to let all of that scenery overflowing with spectators go to waste because I was pouting over my pace (or lack thereof). And there were indeed spectators, lining every inch of those 26.2 miles. Even while taking the cab from the hotel to the start line at Grant Park at 6 a.m., the streets were already alive and bustling. Volunteers were preparing the aid stations, runners were making their way to the start, and people were finding their places to cheer us along. It is truly a sight to behold, which made me forget about all the discomfort of running such a long distance.

They say the real race happens in the last 6.2 miles of a marathon. That's when a runner makes the decision to either sink or swim. On Sunday it was brutally hot, for 83 degrees really felt like 103. My quads were screaming, and I was starting to feel a tightening in my right calf. And there was this nagging blister on my right foot that somehow became the focus of my attention for most of the race. I completely zoned out and kept running, even though every so often I'd glance at my watch and I had slowed down significantly to a 10+ minute mile. I was so focused that I totally forgot to wave at my friends at the Lululemon cheer station at mile 23. I didn't even realize how far along I was until I got to the Nike cheer section one mile later.

And then there was the 800m mark. Just half a mile to go. And then there was that turn to the right and that familiar bridge that not only marked the last 400m but the only significant "hill" in the whole race. This is when I started to swing the arms harder and kick a little stronger because I knew what was beyond this point. The quads and that right calf were on the verge of cramping, but in no time it would be a smooth downhill coast to the finish line. Just one last left turn and there it was.

I had a challenging time with training this summer and wanted to call it quits during one of my 20 milers. About three-quarters of the way through this race I wasn't so sure about how much I liked running. There are definitely better things to do in order to stay in shape, I kept thinking to myself. But I decided around mile 23 that I wanted to run this race again, and crossing the finish line did nothing but cement this decision in my head and in my heart. Unless I attempt a sub-four marathon next spring I will be stuck with the masses in the open corral. But I'm fine with just taking my time with this particular race, and enjoying each and every step through Boys Town, Little Italy, Pilsen, The Loop, Old Town, Chinatown.... Chicago really is a great city. A reminder to me why I am so happy that I moved back here.

I surprise myself sometimes. Yes, I did just turn 40 years old. And I just completed my fourth marathon.

2011 Chicago Marathon 4:24

2011 Grandma's Marathon 4:02

2011 Rockford Marathon 4:14

2010 Chicago Marathon 4:38

Four-oh

2011-10-04T11:53:00.005-04:00

Forty really is just a number. I'm sure any kid half my age would consider me "old". More often than not I am called Ma'am rather than Miss, not that I'm knocking the sign of respect, which I have grown to expect from kids. And I'm certainly not in denial of my shortcomings. I can no longer pull all nighters. Sometimes I get really crabby and have a hard time getting over it (is this what I use to refer to as "crotchety"?). Things sometimes ache for no apparent reason. And I am obsessive about taking my vitamins every single night before going to bed.

Or could it be that I'm just more aware that I'm not invincible? If I don't treat my body well then it will respond with a big "Hey, what the hell are you doing to me?" Back in my 20s and 30s when I really didn't pay much attention to my health maybe the constant state of lethargy was the norm. I rarely feel that nowadays. Well, except when I do one of two things: over exercise or drink a wee bit too much red wine.

So as my 40th birthday came and went, I started to reflect on my 30s and what a wild roller coaster ride it was. But I also stumbled upon some photos taken of me four years ago that will forever remind me why I do all the things I do to stay in shape. Not denying the physical benefits of exercise (since most of us, including me, celebrate these benefits), but I remember myself when I was 36. I was miserable, depressed, and a bit lost. Even though I had three small children to care for, I felt like I had no direction in my life.

Nowadays some things are easier (I no longer have diapers to change and sippy cups to lug around), but our lives are constantly busy and on the go, which is probably why I am horrible at maintaining this blog. I think if I were still that "old me", I would still feel like I was running on that perpetual hamster wheel, with no end in sight. But what I feel now is contentment, even on the crazy days when my daughters decide to plan a fashion mutiny on picture day. Or when my son is sad that his dad went to Japan for two weeks. That's when I wonder how on earth I will survive the teenage years, since I foresee those years to be wrought with lots of drama and discussions.

But often I think about how I wish I could recapture those baby years again, poopy diapers and all. I was too lost in my black hole to really appreciate the simplicity of that time, when the demands of my kids were nothing but hugs and heart shaped grilled cheese sandwiches. Sometimes I wish for it, only to stop myself because I swore I would stop living in regret. Instead I try to focus on the childlike cuteness my kids still have, even when I feel like their tireless bickering is mostly about really stupid subjects (who cares of rocket ships exist or not!?). Their voices are still high pitched and sweet, and they still call me "Mommy". I learned that the years fly by quickly and soon everything is different once again. The difference now is I plan to relish it a little more, the good and the bad.

This week is the taper week for the Chicago Marathon. Just 4 miles today, then 3 tomorrow. Then nothing but rest and carb loading until Sunday. It looks to be a nice day, maybe a little warm for a marathon (mid 70s). When I was younger I used to be in awe of anyone who can run 26.2 miles. Now I'm convinced that anyone can do it as long as they stick to a schedule, eat well, and get plenty of sleep. The challenge actually isn't the race itself, but the 18 weeks leading up to this point. Perhaps the focus and discipline that was never there in my younger years, which is why I was dubbed the "smartest but laziest" amongst my siblings, is finally kicking in.

So let's see where this new decade takes me. But if anyone asks, I'm only 28. *wink*

That pretty much sums it up.

2011-09-08T16:24:00.003-04:00

I've been meaning to write about the new school year.

Or perhaps I should rewind...

I've been meaning to write about all the great things the kids and I did this summer, but we've just been too busy. I decided to skip activities this time since I knew we'd be too busy, and sure enough, they had an extended stay at their grandparents' house on a lake, followed by a 10 day trip to Southwestern Florida to see my parents. There was definitely plenty to do, with very few days of pure boredom doing nothing (though I think boredom on occasion is a good thing).

Now school has started and it appears the only person who has to figure out a schedule is me. The Baby, who is hardly a baby having just turned 6, loves kindergarten. My son is having a great time in 2nd grade. And just today I got a voicemail from my daughter's 5th grade teacher, absolutely beaming about my daughter and how much she loves having her as a student. Being a "tween", my 10 year old doesn't say much when asked about school. It's either "okay" or "boring". Maybe first thing in the morning when she is finally wide awake at the breakfast table (and in a good mood), she will tell me she loves her new teacher. But it's always good to get positive feedback from the teacher herself, and in this case the teacher sounds like she is crazy about my daughter.

As for me, I start my Hatha Yoga teacher training next week, which will be a 12-14 month course. I have been knee deep in marathon training (Chicago again!) and yoga. My cousin, whose yoga studio I frequent, has been meeting me twice a week in an attempt to do something different fitness wise, something we thought would be fun and challenging since we both come from very different fitness backgrounds. Needless to say, my calves are still killing me from the step class we accidentally took on Tuesday (we thought it was a strength training class). Then tomorrow we will try a new thing called the Dailey Method. There is a studio in downtown Naperville that is walking distance to the Lululemon Athletica store. So we will work out and then shop (or I will window shop, SHE will shop).

Then we kick off the weekend with my daughter's 6th birthday party. Followed by my own birthday party the weekend after. I left it up to Shawn and my family to plan the latter, maybe due to the fact that I am in denial that I'm turning 40. Yikes.

So in case I don't blog for a while, it's only because I'm sort of busy trying to figure out a new schedule for the school year. And to think, activities and sports haven't started yet. Next week there will be hip hop dance classes, soccer, followed by viola lessons and trumpet lessons. I think it might be best to do what I usually end up doing with everything else, and that is just go with the flow.

At which time I may have to start drinking coffee again.

2011-07-06T10:07:00.000-04:00

I just submitted my application to a nearby community college. Eek!

I figure that's the first step in doing what I think might be something that is somewhat not doable. It's been many many years since I've stepped foot on a college campus with books in hand and my brain set to learning mode. In all honesty, I was pretty lazy when it came to subjects I wish I didn't have to learn. Like anything related to math. Or science. Or really anything that fell under "general ed" that had nothing to do with art and the humanities.

But I'd like to think after all these years I've matured a little bit. Things that seemed painfully boring in my late teens to early twenties have taken on a much more interesting light. Hopefully my almost 40 year old brain will be able to absorb things like physics and human anatomy.

I'm somewhat reluctant to discuss my eventual goal since I haven't done anything but given it a whole lot of thought and click "SEND" on the online application. This was something I had toyed with as a freshman in college many years ago, but decided against it because I didn't want to bother with all the sciences.

But I accomplished and weathered many milestones since then, and I've realized that things I may have once had a passion for are no longer appealing or practical. The thought of sitting at a desk all day designing page layouts or websites sounds totally boring, even though in my twenties I would have much rather done that than interact with anyone (was I really that anti-social back then?). Photography is still an interest but I've grown so tired of selling myself. And I really, honestly loathe the whole idea of putting a price tag on my time/talent, those two going hand-in-hand in that field, it seems. It's great money for something to do on the side, but I need something that provides a real, steady paycheck so I can plan out my life a little better.

So back to the books I go. I'm trying not to think about how long or how much, because that in itself will make it all the more overwhelming. I guess just like running a marathon, it's more about chipping away at each and every mile, with the eye on the prize.

2 minutes and 18 seconds.

2011-06-20T14:24:00.008-04:00

Last weekend I almost ran a marathon in less than 4 hours. But at that aid station at mile 25, I was in the worst state of misery I have ever been in. I wondered to myself, What is the point in all of this nonsense? And for the last day and a half I was beating myself up over my time: 4:02:18.

I ran this race with one of my cousins for the first time. She's considerably younger than me (25) and this was to be her third marathon. She planted the seed in my head that we should try to run this marathon in 4 hours. Hey, let's find a pace group and just stick to them. Sounded like a good plan, or so I told her, even though in the back of my mind I really didn't know if I could run that fast for 26.2 miles. Ten miles, yes (and even faster). A half marathon, probably. But 26.2? Hmm. I had already run two marathons previous to this one, the last one just 5 weeks ago, finishing at 4:14, a huge improvement from Chicago's 4:38 last fall.

We were ahead of schedule for most of the race. We even built a 2+minute buffer, running ahead of the pace group for a few miles. So I made a new goal for myself: finish in less than 4. C'mon, you can definitely do it! In fact, at around mile 22 I turned to my cousin and told her if we just stay on pace, a sub-four marathon will be in the basket. But that was before a series of hills and twists and turns, and at mile 25 I was in total misery. My cousin made it with just 30 seconds to spare. I shuffled in two minutes later.

To be honest, I was secretly beating myself up for the last day and a half over those last 2 minutes and 18 seconds. Nothing cramped up, nothing broke. So why did I totally wimp out like that?

But after finally getting a good night's rest in my own bed, I realized this morning that I was being totally ridiculous. The last 5k of this race was a real bear. I hated that after running a straight course along the beautiful coast of Lake Superior, they had us running up and down hills and around corners to the finish line right smack in the middle of a very quaint downtown Duluth. But despite feeling totally depleted at mile 25 while walking through the final aid station chugging the electrolytes, I told myself to keep going. Pick up those feet, swing those arms, and keep that pace up to the end. I kept my eye on my watch and started counting my steps to keep my focus on anything but the pain and the worry that I might not see the end.

Now THAT was a real race. The first thought that came across my mind as I crossed the finish line was this was possibly the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life. But I did it. In almost under four hours. A new PR and big plans for Chicago this coming October. Even though my head is still in a fog and my legs could barely get me from point A to point B, I can't wait to jump right back into training.

Rockford Files

2011-05-16T09:53:00.003-04:00

Remember that show way back when? Rockford Files -- starring James Garner, I believe. My dad used to watch it when I was a kid. I think I still remember the theme song. Not many people seem to recall that show so perhaps it was just another one of those cop shows, overshadowed by Starsky and Hutch.

About a week or so ago I convinced myself to register for the Rockford Marathon. The running group decided to use it as a training run, since we were scheduled to run 20 miles that weekend anyway. So we were planning on running the usual 20, then just walk or jog the remaining 6.2. Not a big deal.

But really, who can run a race with out really running it? I latched onto a pace group at about mile 4 or 5, and stayed with them until the end, which had whittled down to nothing more than the pacer, me, and one other member of my running group in the last 6.2 miles or so. At this point I almost felt a little guilty if I were to suddenly decide to walk the rest, for the pacer did an excellent job of keeping the conversation lively so that the miles flew by so quickly. But I really didn't pay much attention to the mileage until about mile 23 or 24. That was when it felt like a chore.

The nice thing was seeing the finish line in the distance -- at the bottom of a hill. It made that last sprint a little easy, thankfully.

So I finished my second marathon with a new PR. 4:14:37. I'm happy and a little bit surprised. And this was even with one potty break at mile 7.

I have a fun 10 miler at Soldier Field in two weeks. Then Grandma's Marathon in Duluth, MN, in four. Then the whole summer is dedicated to training for Chicago.

I guess you can say I'm welcoming 40 with a big bang. And I go up in my age group, which in the racing world, is a good thing. :)

Hindsight.

2011-04-22T00:24:00.004-04:00

I know it's useless to be in a "shoulda coulda woulda" mindset. But sometimes it can't be helped. If I could do it all over again, I think I should have stayed in North Carolina. There are some significant positives about living here, of course. It's great to have family nearby. In case I'm ever in a bind, there are a handful of people I can call and who would gladly help me out. I think that in itself is worth its weight in gold, for I never felt that I had that in North Carolina.

I guess there are just times when I miss certain things about living there. For one, I miss teaching. I miss that itty bitty paycheck that I always forgot to pick up, which then ended up feeling like a big paycheck after a few weeks. I miss interacting with all those people before and after class. I always used to worry that it would be a negative experience for someone (especially newcomers) but aside from the occasional complaint about the music being too loud, everyone had a good time. Some days I'd be dead tired, likely having taught too much in addition to other things I did at the gym, but once the mic was on and the bass was pumping, I forgot all about my physical (and mental) woes.

I still remember when the gfm approached me and told me she wanted me to teach. I know that recruitment of new instructors was a main component of her job. But being told that I had the potential to do something that I never thought I could do was a huge boost to my ego -- at a time when I really needed a light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

I was feeling inadequate on so many different levels, especially that summer. It was hot, as most summers in the south are, and I started to spend a lot of time at the gym. The kids didn't seem to mind and met a lot of friends there, and I stepped out of my comfort zone and decided I needed to make friends as well. It worked. I had a booming social life. I had a job that I loved. It was a fun, leisurely life we led.

I was supposed to move to Illinois in 2009, but decided not to because I was in the middle of training for the two programs that I eventually ended up teaching. I know to anyone else with a "real" 9-5 job earning six figures and making big important decisions that can make or break a fortune 500 company, the piddly little thing I was doing was exactly that. Piddly. Little. Nothing. But to me, after not having worked for over a decade, this "job" meant everything. Many days it kicked my butt to the point where I was too tired to tend to things like laundry and cleaning. I was stressed sometimes because the kids wanted to continue playing outside rather than being dragged to the gym (which often ended up being ok once they saw their gym friends there). Even though it was at a gym, I always dressed the part, even on the icky bloated days when I wish I could hide the water retention muffin top. My hair and make up were always done even though I only "worked" for 1 hour, and all for naught since after the hour I was a big hot mess. But I loved it.

Yet, there was the guilt that the kids weren't living near their dad. And there was the lack of security I felt while living in NC. I decided I just needed to give this all up and focus on the kids. A move back to Illinois was something that just HAD to be done because there is nothing that is more important than the kids. Not my friends or my job. Nothing.

But here I am, approaching a year. I haven't been able to find any teaching jobs nearby. Once my youngest starts kindergarten next fall, I'm faced with trying to figure out what to do with myself for the 6 or so hours the kids are gone. Sure, I can probably find something to do part time, but will it take me away from the kids for too long? I know in this economy, I should be happy to earn any sort of income, since any dollar amount earned would be helpful. But how many hours would I have to work to make this worthwhile? And would I end up using that hard earned pay to hire a sitter?

I guess in my own ideal little world, I would have trained to teach other programs. Then while the kids are in school, I would teach all day long. Then I would be home to greet them once the bus arrives and the rest of the evening would be dedicated to them. The piddly little paycheck would be enough to pay for things like a new car (for that Mercedes has been sitting in my garage for a month now, inoperable), and maybe occasional trips to Chick-fil-a. And heck, just all the odds and ends that three grade school aged children inevitably end up needing.

Maybe I can find that ideal little world here. If I can, then all the better. For I have my family, especially my wonderful cousins with whom I've run hundreds of miles with, which in itself is an amazing feat that I never thought I could accomplish. The kids' dad and his family are nearby, and I am hoping now that spring is here, the kids will see him and them a little bit more. I have the rest of the spring and the summer to look forward to, and so many adventures to plan and partake in.

But I guess in hindsight I wish that I could really tell myself that I've come a long way and truly believe it. I don't know why I seek reaffirmation from other people, or really, one person in particular, and yet I never seem to get it. It's only now that I'm realizing that it doesn't really matter what I do, even if it's the most amazing accomplishment achieved, there are some people who will never really recognize any redeeming qualities in me. But I do know that even if I am a complete miserable failure as a person (which, fortunately, I know I am not), my kids always seem to look up to me anyway. That's all that should matter.

So if I look with 20/20 vision, for that's what hindsight is, and I let the thoughts come full circle, I know I've made the right decision to move back. It really is for the three of them... if I think and act with them in mind, then making decisions isn't so difficult.

Two weeks down, one more to go.

2011-04-17T22:09:00.003-04:00

We only have one more week left in the 21-day wellness challenge. So far it's going pretty well, although I have to keep reminding everyone (and myself) that it's only for 3 weeks. The seemingly daunting task of eliminating all of these things out of my diet is very much a temporary thing, for I don't think I can afford to eat this way permanently. If I had to for health reasons, I would probably just totally give up on things like bread and pasta. A loaf of Udi's gluten free bread at Whole Foods is $7. That would make one heck of an expensive peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

The whole point of this is to cleanse the body of toxins and irritants. Eat cleanly, try to choose fruits and vegetables that haven't been blasted with herbicides, for instance, and see how different you might feel in 3 weeks. I have do doubt that things like coffee and wine, when consumed in moderation, can actually be better for most people's wellbeing (and sanity, as in my case), but in keeping with the whole wellness and mindfulness essence of the program, any sort of stimulant probably had to be added to the list of "can't have". But only for 3 weeks. ;)

Which leads me to the two biggest challenges of this program: meditation and journaling. I haven't been able to do either very consistently, and I know the whole point of doing either is to give this program a little bit more introspect. Often when dealing with things like a diet, one can get too consumed with the process of it all: numbers, food labels, shopping and cooking. It's easy to forget about the mind & body aspect of it, and perhaps that's when it can turn into drudgery.

I think there are plenty of new habits I will try to keep with me after completing the program. I am definitely enjoying my "giant" breakfast of oatmeal, fruit, and two eggs. I drink more water, snack on healthier food. I'm happy to be rid of coffee, but sometimes miss the wine. And while I love all kinds of fish and seafood, I really cannot wait to have a nice, juicy steak.

Ah, it's been a while.

2011-04-08T14:15:00.002-04:00

I promised myself I would continue to blog. So here I am. Actually my biggest problem is that I have been using a wireless Apple keyboard on my iPad. A great combination, especially since it can be difficult to type on the itty bitty keypad on the iPad. However, a technical glitch I have encountered is this keyboard interferes with the Playstation, which the kids use to watch shows on Netflix or Hulu. I know it's probably a simple switch somewhere in a preferences file (or something like that), but I don't really remember to do this until I have two minutes to myself while the kids are watching tv. Gotta love Bluetooth technology. Or technology in general. Although in this instance it's mostly my laziness and forgetfulness that is the real issue.

Last week I had a week off. I went to visit my parents in Florida and met up with some cousins on my mom's side. It was a good, relaxing time. And I didn't gorge myself with food so I didn't morph myself into a lazy shlep by the end of the week. I swear there are times when I just eat and drink until I am more than merry and pretty soon I can barely keep my eyes open or move myself from point A to point B. Like the last time I was in Florida, more than a year ago during the holidays, I had to spend the night in Atlanta due to issues with my flight. By the time I finally arrived at my parents' house, I was so hungry that I stuffed my face with the first thing I saw on the table: egg rolls. Many, many egg rolls.

My latest endeavor is a complete revamp of my diet. I know I am a horrible eater. Yet I work out more than the average person in the hopes of chasing the fountain of youth and at the same time keep a continuous flow of endorphins in my body. Lately I have felt all the work has been for nought. I'm healthy enough, so that's a definite plus, but I feel like I want to see if there is something else I can do. So I had to look that diet in the eye and just come to terms with the fact that I can't have my chocolate cake and expect it to not show up somewhere in the form of a muffin top.

While I was away I read a pretty good book about clean eating. The whole premise is to fuel my body with clean fuel. Consume only what I need based on whatever it is I might be doing, whether it's running or strength training. I am really hoping this will take away some aches and pains, for most of them are inevitable when running 15 miles. I just need to do whatever I can to avoid added stress.

To help me along I decided to sign up for a wellness program at my cousin's yoga studio. To be honest, I was on the fence about this. This is a program she conducts with a nutritionist twice a year, and the first time she told me about this I thought she and the people enrolled in the program were insane. So when I expressed an interest in "eating clean" a few weeks ago, I think my cousin automatically put me on her mental list and made sure to contact me the day before the first meeting.

I realized that it's not as overwhelming as it sounds. For 21 days I will give up caffeine, alcohol, wheat, meat, dairy, and sugar. In addition, I am going to avoid any inflammatory foods such as soy and corn (to name a few!). We are allowed herbal tea, eggs, and natural sweeteners like brown rice sugar or Stevia.

So for 21 days I will be "cleansing" my body of any toxins or anything that might cause inflammation. There are participants who are doing this for the third time and they experienced wonderful changes in their bodies, from aches and pains going away, to just an overall feeling of renewed energy.

Ah, just what I need.

And as Day 4 comes around, I'm feeling just fine. I am still in shock that I have been able to wean myself off of coffee (though being in Florida for 7 days sort of helps that). And there are so many good options out there that aren't too expensive. My one big surprise has been brown rice pasta. Looks like whole wheat pasta in the package but it doesn't have that stiff consistency of whole wheat.

My cousin and I joked that the wellness program doesn't end until the day after Easter. So she and I will be huddled in the corner during our family Easter get together, eating a bowl of lentils. In all seriousness, I think she and I can come up with some pretty good "clean" dishes. If I can get my kids to eat what I have been cooking, that's proof that the stuff is actually good.

The power of NOW.

2011-03-28T12:21:00.002-04:00

Whenever left idle, which is the case when I'm on vacation, I sometimes let myself over think my situation. Last night I finally had to tell myself to go to bed. I spent a little too much time on Facebook and soon I was missing my North Carolina friends, irritated at my ex-husband, and paranoid that someone was going to break into our house while we are away.

Funny how things seem so much brighter in the morning after some oatmeal and 4.5 mile run.

And now it is time for some R&R at the beach. Siesta Key today, I think. More happy thoughts will hopefully enter my brain as the day progresses.

Flying the friendly skies.

2011-03-26T13:53:00.003-04:00

So here I sit, 30,000 up in the air. For just $5 I was able to hop online. Add a gin and tonic to the mix and all is well on the way to Florida.

Vacation has finally begun.

Granted, I was boohooing all evening over having to say goodbye to the kids while they spend a week in North Carolina with their dad and his fiance. And we had to wake up at a quarter to three in the morning to catch a cab to the airport. And then we gave up our seats twice to take advantage of a few vouchers ($500 x 4... I think Hawaii is in our future), which delayed our arrival by 5 hours.

But this gin and tonic is extra sweet and refreshing while being sipped in first class, a luxury I rarely get to experience while traveling. I say it was well worth the minor inconveniences, which actually was no big deal to me because it just involved sitting quietly in a crowded airport without a worry in the world. No other mouths to worry about feeding or extra potty trips or bickering matches to referee.

I know a lot of moms rarely get a break, so when one comes along I take full advantage of it. Perhaps it isn't too smart to be drinking this gin and tonic on an empty stomach, but who cares. I'm on vacation. Finally. I do miss the kids and wish I had the resources to take them with me. But hopefully we will all return from our destinations a week from now fully refreshed and ready to take on the weekly grind on into the summer.

And thank you, Shawn Brown, for making our getaways so much fun. We don't do this often enough.

There must be some humor in this.

2011-03-17T20:49:00.004-04:00

I just pulled my SUV into the garage, and it died. Actually, I attempted to turn the key to see if it would start again, and all it did was emit a grinding sort of sputter. All I could do is breathe a sigh of relief that I actually made it home.

It all started half way to the usual Thursday meeting place for the kids and their dad. Suddenly the steering felt a bit odd and I noticed a little red light on the dashboard that somewhat resembled a car battery. I know nothing about cars so I don't really know how the car battery and power steering are related. The interior lights still worked. The radio worked. The car still accelerated and braked. Hmm.

So I did the obvious thing: I told the kids to be quiet. One was counting the seconds to our arrival; the other was mimicking him. Every so often he would pause to correct her. They'd bicker, and start the cycle all over again. Somehow quieting them down helped the situation, at least in my head.

Finally we arrived at our destination, and after finding a very far away random parking space, since I couldn't steer the truck properly in between any parked vehicles, I dropped the kids off and immediately headed back home, which in itself was a challenge because I was not accustomed to heading straight home from this location. And of course, where there was an off ramp, there was no on ramp to be found. But this left me to drive slowly on the side roads and ponder the situation, all the while working my biceps and triceps and deltoids and other unnamed muscles in order to steer through the turns.

Yes, this is my fault. The truck has been having issues for quite some time but I kept trying to hold off on taking it in. I decided to wait for my tax return, which I suddenly remembered while "pondering", is still sitting on the shelf in the office. Stupid, I know.

So the best thing to do in order to keep myself from totally freaking out (Oh GAWD, I do not want to be the broken down vehicle on any street or highway during the tail end of rush hour!!), was to find some humor in all of this. Like when I suddenly realized my son didn't shut the back door properly and hitting any pot hole would have likely caused it to fly open, spewing all the contents of the back seat. I imagined the people behind me having to dodge things such as Barbie dolls, CLIF bar wrappers, and a banana peel. Maybe even half of a ham sandwich.

By the time I turned into my subdivision, all of the warning lights on the dashboard were lit. I had no idea what most of them meant, but at the same time I wondered how it could be possible that every single functioning thing in this vehicle, or at least every functioning thing that had a warning light assigned to it, could be going haywire at the same time.

Ultimately what this really comes down to is: This can't be good.

And as I sat in my garage for a moment, I thought for a moment. It's probably a miracle I got home.

Now I should probably file that tax return and figure out a way to get the vehicle to the mechanic. I don't expect a very inexpensive diagnosis, since every year I have had this vehicle, each ailment has cost an arm and a leg. It was better than having a car payment each and every month. But with very little TLC as it approached the 210,000 mark, what do I expect?

Melatonin overload.

2011-03-15T22:49:00.002-04:00

Today I was extremely lethargic. Well okay, I was fine until lunch. After that I made the mistake of sitting down and everything slowly came to a halt. Zzzz.

Next thing I knew, the older two kids were home. In my half awake stupor I could hear rummaging through the pantry. Bickering. The doorbell ringing and soon everyone was outside running around. I chose to enjoy the pre-spring chill from the indoors.

Just as I thought I was finally fully awake, we went out to eat. Now I'm suffering from a food coma. It's just one of those days I wish I could have just stayed in bed all day. But I know if given the opportunity, I would have grown antsy, unable to sleep or sit still.

Today. Totally useless. Perhaps some much needed rest from last week's mileage (33 miles), in preparation for this week. Or at least the 7 miles tomorrow. Praying for no rain because the dreadmill is not sounding too appealing right now, with chips and salsa settling in my belly.

Getting all technical with running.

2011-03-08T17:53:00.004-05:00

Right now I'm in the middle of installing Microsoft Office on my Mac. I actually have to type up a cover letter and resume for a job prospect. But I also need to set up a training schedule in Excel.

On the weekends I've been running with my cousin and a group she found through a coworker. Except for my cousin, these are all seasoned runners, all having completed multiple marathons, oftentimes several in a year.

I decided to mirror her training schedule, which in turn mirrors theirs, but I told her I was going to pursue this in a very low key manner because the actual marathon I am training for is the Chicago Marathon, and I haven't even begun to think about that one since the 18 week training schedule doesn't start until June. But as with anything I pursue half heartedly, I end up totally confused about what is going on. This weekend I thought we were running 11 miles. But she wants to run 13. Last weekend was supposed to be 9, but we ran 10.

As it turns out, The Group, as what I like to call them, are on a totally different plan, which is expected since they have been running seriously for several years, not several months. But my cousin wants to follow them. And I can always be suckered into doing any sort of challenge, so I decided to do the same.

Only this will require so much juggling, with kids' schedules, and days off, and things that can just randomly happen due to laziness or sickness or whatnot. And this is why I need to refer to Excel to map some sort of schedule out. Even though most people think I'm pretty motivated, I actually am not. I need to follow guidelines, otherwise I have no plan in my head and nothing ends up happening. Or I just plain forget.

What? We were supposed to run 8? I only ran 6. Darn it.

Yes, that's me when I forget to look at The Schedule.

This may seem silly to some people. But I think this is actually the only semblance of sanity I have on some days. It's a schedule that is actually set up by a renowned running coach (Hal Higdon), modified by The Group. And I just now realized I need to modify it further, due to my reluctance to run 8 miles on a treadmill.

Ok, time to fire up Excel and noodle over this one. Really, this is extremely important. Moreso than making dinner.

The Magic Number 7

2011-03-07T23:34:00.004-05:00

A little more tinkering. This just looks so... BLUE. I don't know if I like it.

I just realized this blog has been around for 7 years, which makes sense because I remember starting this blog when my son was born. What happened to the time? It was all just a blur, then it disappeared into thin air.

Good thing I didn't delete this when I thought it might be a good idea. I'm realizing more and more the importance of keeping this up. If all the writing I do is on my iPad through random Facebook status updates, then my brain will surely turn to mush.

Lately I've been thinking about next fall when my youngest child starts kindergarten. I never thought this day would come. What on earth will I do with this newfound freedom?

But as the winter turns to spring, it's only a reminder that the time will go by faster than I would like it to. I will be a blubbering mess on her first day of kindergarten, for this chapter of my life will come to an end on that day. While it's true that I will get a chance to pursue so many things finally, I can't help but think that this all happened too quickly.

On the other hand, I read about a few job prospects and it made me excited to be doing something new. I will still have the crazy mornings getting the kids off to school and the even crazier afternoons and evenings driving the kids to and fro. What I do in between is a huge question mark right now. Pursue photography gigs more aggressively? Become a certified personal trainer so I can really live in the gym? The world will truly be my oyster and the possibilities are endless and exciting.

But for now I will still go ahead and wish spring would hurry up and get here already.

A change of pace.

2011-03-06T22:48:00.003-05:00

Seeing that I didn't write one blog entry in the whole month of February, I decided to write a few today. Lately I've been glued to my iPad. I love that thing. It's like my fourth child that I take everywhere with me. My MacBook Pro quickly took the backseat the day I brought my iPad home.

But this weekend I finally decided to take Shawn's advice and I wiped the MacBook clean (well, with a whole lot of his help because wiping a computer clean is really sort of frightening). And now it's as good as new. Along with two new bluetooth devices (keyboard and trackpad), I'm back to being a happy Mac camper. And I can really type now that I'm back to using a real keyboard. And so now I'm writing my second blog entry today. Imagine that.

I even decided to change my template. I'm too lazy to even attempt my own design, but this one will do. It's cool and refreshing, a change from whatever it was before. I decided this running season that I'm going to wear different colors than my usual red/pink/black scheme. And that change is reflected here on my blog. Go me.

In all seriousness though, I cannot believe how wonderfully my laptop is working now. It's amazing how dogged slow it became. I have no idea what I might have done to cause it to run so slowly over the years, so perhaps what we did to it this weekend was some sort of cleanse.

Speaking of which, I'm thinking about enrolling in a 21-day Wellness challenge at my cousin's yoga studio. I would have to give up some of my loves: alcohol, caffeine, dairy, wheat, sugar, and meat (fish and eggs are okay).

When I worked with a trainer a year ago, he gave me a bit of a scolding over my diet. True you can lose weight if you burn more calories than you consume, but when I was teaching group fitness classes, I might burn more than 1000 calories a day just from exercising. Surely the weight came off, but I was just skinny. I didn't look lean and fit like I should after working out an average of 2 hours a day, 6 days a week.

So the trainer told me to cut down on my fat so that I had an even consumption of fat, carbohydrates, and protein. Maybe increase the protein on the days I taught. I didn't feel any different, and the scale certainly didn't change much. But my body fat percentage went down 2% and other instructors started to tell me that I looked different. So I suppose the full slab of ribs I was stuffing into my face every Saturday (ah, do I miss the ribs at Harris Teeter!) probably wasn't doing me any good. And neither were those garlic mashed potatoes, even though I'm sure that on any given Saturday I was in major calorie burning mode.

Well, now I'm no longer teaching. And unless I'm getting close to marathon race day, I'm not running a ton of miles. Just 20 or so a week with a bit of strength training. It's no wonder the scale is no longer my best friend. But I can't completely rely on exercise alone to stay fit. My diet leaves much to be desired, and some days I wake up feeling just plain crappy. So I think this cleanse might do me some good. And it fascinates me to see how these sorts of things can drastically change the way I look and feel.

But that doesn't begin until after Spring Break. I should be talking about the bikini Shawn bought me at Victoria's Secret. The nicest bathing suit I have ever owned. I'll save that for another entry. ;)

It's official.

2011-03-06T22:44:00.005-05:00

I'm sick of the winter. I think I did pretty well this year. Survived a blizzard and still managed to run outside in the ice and snow. But last Friday as I left the gym, something felt a little different. The sun was thinking about coming out from behind the clouds and it seemed as though there was just a touch of humidity in the air.

But who am I kidding. I had just taken a BodyJam class followed by 30 minutes of core conditioning. I was probably just sweating too much to notice that it was still too cold for comfort.

I had a few hours free so Shawn and I went out to lunch. I was cold as I entered the restaurant, and I was just as cold when I left. Spring isn't even sort of here. It was just a post workout buzz.

The thing about winter running.

2011-01-26T08:31:00.002-05:00

I have to post a blog entry about this random thought so that I have something to remind me of it.

Winter is okay when the sun is shining. But when the skies are grey and the fresh snow has turned into muddy slush, winter seems so dreary. When I am on the fence between running outside and running on the treadmill, I have to remember how much nicer winter is when you do actually emerse yourself in it. Well, provided you are dressed properly so you don't freeze to death.

I almost went to the gym yesterday, but instead decided to throw on the running tights and winter running jacket to brave the trails while my 5 year old bounced around in her gymnastics class. And you know, it wasn't all that bad. In fact, it was quite pleasant. Peaceful even.

This has actually made winter quite tolerable. Why stare out the window at the white snow, grey skies, and bare limbs of trees when you can just suck it up and be a part of it?

I should probably disclose that this is doable to me as long as it's 10 degrees or warmer outside. I have yet to attempt running when the thermometer is showing no mercury at all or when the paths are nothing but a giant sheet of ice. But I'm sure there are those who do it, frozen water bottle and all.

Already 2011

2011-01-19T08:17:00.002-05:00

So much for my renewed commitment to blogging. :) At the very least I wanted to write about each race I ran in but it seems that starting Thanksgiving there are so many things that are put on the back burner. Well, I had also decided to knit scarves as Christmas presents. I think it was a hit, but I wasn't able to knit everyone a scarf, unfortunately. I have a few skeins waiting to be made into something for Valentine's Day. We'll see if that happens.

The Turkey Trot was a ton of fun. It was my first time to partake in the yearly family tradition. A week after that was the Santa Hustle 5k, which I ran with a couple of visiting friends from North Carolina. It was cold. There was lots of snow. And reindeer. So they truly experienced CHICAGO.

Then came Christmas and New Years. A visit from my parents and sister. And now as life slowly normalizes once again, my brain is still trying to catch up to it. It doesn't help that so soon after school started up that they threw in a 4 day weekend (MLK and teacher's in service). Make that a 5 day weekend because the older two kidlets were sick yesterday.

In approximately 5 minutes I will have to end this blog entry to make 3 lunches. But here I am for now. Hopefully I will be better about writing this year.

Races planned: The Chicago Marathon, in which I hope to run under my own name. Registration is in February. And I will probably run the Soldier Field 10-miler on Memorial Day weekend.

Other than that, I hope to refocus on yoga because my flexibility has gone to pot. And do strength training at least 2x a week. It's ironic that I used to teach classes based on those two things and now I am struggling to do one or the other... and when I do, I am sore for days. But I've been trying to keep my mileage up to 20 miles a week... that in itself is a struggle (can you say DREADmill?). Until my cousin introduced me to the Arboretum and the crazy idea of running in below freezing weather. It's actually quite fun. No emphasis on pace since the ground is snowy and icy.

And since I am to lazy to re-edit this post with actual complete sentences, it's best that I end here and make the sandwiches. Happy 2011!

As time flies by...

2010-11-15T08:11:00.006-05:00

I can't believe it's been a month since my last entry.

Well, my need to blog about every race I run in has prompted me to squeeze in a quick entry before I brace myself for the daily waking of the children. At least I have a reason to be here, for I know if I wait any longer I will probably forget what happened at the Hot Chocolate race.

Or maybe I already have forgotten.

Except I remember it was cold. Like so cold that I couldn't feel my fingers and toes when the race finally started. And then half way through I felt really really hot. Apparently many other people felt the same way because there were various articles of clothing scattered throughout the course. In order to run during the winter months, I either have to acclimate to the cold and wear less clothing, or just get used to that hot yet cold and clammy sweaty feeling once the blood starts pumping.

Either way, I am dreading the next few months. Well, except for the super cute accessories that I just may have to invest in, slowly. Starting with gloves (a few pairs of varying degrees of toasty warmness are already in the closet). And ear warmers. And perhaps a neck warmer. And wool running socks. And of course, the pants. And the coat.

I can see where this is heading. And I'm thinking we will need to live off of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches so that I can stock my winter running wardrobe. Which in actuality is not a cheap meal option, by the way, due to the fact that I would have to use a soy alternative to pack the kids' school lunches thanks to everyone else's peanut allergies.

Let me digress....

It was fun and a little crowded, having ballooned to 30,000 participants from last year's count of 4,000. Part of the course was lined with rocks, which I hated due to my paranoia of respraining my ankle. But of course, the view along the lakefront was amazing. And the post race treats (Ghiardelli hot chocolate and fondue) were a nice way to reload the carbs.

Next up: the Turkey Trot, which apparently is a family tradition each year. I decided to sign the kids up for the Plymouth Rock Ramble in which the oldest will sprint .5 mile, the younger two will run .25 (this is due to their ages... I'm sure the 5 year old will raise a stink about not being allowed to run further, which she will probably do anyway). I told them we need to train. A few loops around the cul de sac, and a good long lecture about friendly competition and how everyone wins the race no matter when they cross the finish line.

I know my kids will understand that concept fully and embrace it at the finish line, and will turn and embrace each other with sincere congratulatory praise before we ride off into the sunset in preparation for the Thanksgiving feast that awaits us. Yep, I totally foresee that happening, like a Nike ad about wishful thinking.

Tenacious

2010-10-14T09:54:00.005-04:00

My cousin Jen and I were on the phone for quite a while yesterday morning, rehashing our experiences at the Chicago Marathon last Sunday. She was on an 18 week training schedule for the race last summer, and she convinced me to jump in around week 9 after inviting me to run with her and the other cousins along Lake Michigan.

True the energy of the city, with all the people preparing for various races, was intoxicating. So much so that I could be so easily convinced to put on the running shoes and do what I always tell people I can't really do, and that is RUN. Run and run some more, until you feel like your head is melting and your legs are going to fall off. Well, that's why you train -- or so I'm told. Though I quickly realized that running any race goes well beyond a good pair of shoes. So many things can make or break a run. Sleep, diet, rest, more exercise. It can be overwhelming, though ultimately one will realize the 18 weeks of training is all about finding what works best for you.

Fortunately I have many cousins who have run the marathon, the Chicago Marathon in particular. They told us where to be dropped off, where the family should stand to cheer us on, and two of them even joined us during the last grueling miles. Though nothing could have prepared me for the outpouring of support and well wishes from all the spectators. That was what made this race truly amazing: to be amongst 40,000 people, running along the streets of Chicago, with the beautiful skyline. I almost forgot that summertime came for one last visit, with the temperature soaring to 90 degrees. I did get a bit freaked out when they raised the alert level to "high" and kept cautioning us to slow down, hydrate, listen to our bodies.

I had planned on taking it easy for the first half, and putting on the magic in the second. But with the temps slowly rising, I decided to err on the side of caution. I stopped at every aid station to hydrate, keeping my eye on pot holes and other runners in order to avoid re-spraining my left ankle. A friend of mine told me once, "Respect the distance." Finishing fast wasn't the goal today, but just finishing. If I could do it on my two feet, that would be an added bonus. So it was no wonder that by mile 20 I was feeling pretty darned good. Though I knew this is where the real challenge began: the last 6.2 miles. At the pace I was going, that meant one more hour. By mile 23 I felt like my quads were going to give out. The legs just would not go. I had 5k left, I kept telling myself. I really hate 5k races, and if my quads cramp up I will be really, really pissed. And oh, is that my left foot starting to seize up too? Ugh.

But then came mile 24, the Nike cheering section with the big booming voice telling all the runners that we only have a little more than 2 miles to go, so keep going. I just imagined myself slowing to a shuffling walk, and even if I resorted to that in order to cross the finish line, I would still get there. At this point no one could tell me, "Oops, time's up! You took too long!"

By mile 25, my cousin Leslie, who had jumped in to run with me at mile 18, decided to pull back to find Jen. Somehow that's when the adrenaline kicked in. I could see a giant tv screen in the distance, and people yelling, "The finish is just around the corner. It's almost there."

And there it was: a big hill. The only thing that made my legs move was the reassurance that at some point we'd be running downhill. I tried reasoning with myself. There must have been something I've done in my life that hurt more, that was a bigger physical challenge. But at this point it was all mind over matter. I thought of that special person who would undoubtedly be running alongside me if she could. She held my hand and pulled me along until the end.

With the streets lined in red, flanked with screaming, cheering spectators, the finish line was in sight. This is where we emptied our tanks, if we weren't already running on fumes. It was such a mental rush that I could have kept going another two miles.

26.2 miles in 4:38:29. I know this will not be my only marathon, as long as the legs stay in good working order. It probably won't be my fastest, but what I will never forget is the journey that got me to this point. Really, that's what it's all about... the events in your life that get you to each big milestone. And I daresay this is a pretty big one, for me.

Dress rehearsal.

2010-10-04T17:36:00.002-04:00

As silly as it may sound, I've been trying on my marathon race outfit each day. Tomorrow I'm going for a dry run (ha! a pun!) with everything on, right down to the socks. I think this is just a way to calm the nerves and ease the antsiness. I can't believe the day is almost here, a commitment that I sort of fell into, but have enjoyed along the way, right down to the most miserable 20 mile training run in rain soaked shoes. This race goes along all the sights and sounds of such a beautiful, majestic city, and I love being a part of something so big. There is something to be said about 40,000+ people making that same commitment to train for this event.

But in the mean time, everyday life calls. Dinner. Bath time. Bed time. Zzz.

Testing

2010-10-03T12:22:00.002-04:00

My first blog post with my newest gadget. I'm not 100% sure how to use all it's bells and whistles (like hmm, how do you do a hyperlink? hmm...), but this is fun nevertheless.

Geeking out. Yay!

Antsy

2010-09-25T10:14:00.003-04:00

And so the tapering begins. After peaking at the big 20 mile practice run, the daily and weekly mileage will slowly taper in preparation for the marathon. Legs get a rest. Now a 12 mile "long" weekend run seems effortless.

Unless, of course, one happens to be running down the street and misses the sidewalk, twisting one's ankle. Then a 12 mile run is simply not doable.

Yes, that was me. Closing in on an 8 mile run. Just half a mile to go with the finish line in site. My foot couldn't decide between landing on the pavement or the grass so it settled for a little of both. The funny thing is that I immediately thought, "Oh gosh, did anyone see me do that?" I was booking it that last mile or so. Not that I fell flat on my face, but to be emptying the tanks and then to wipe out within spitting distance of finishing was sort of embarrassing.

And so I have been making my way around with quite the glamourous hobble. Trying not to do much because the marathon is in 2 weeks. I thought I would get antsy during this time of tapering the miles. But now that I'm not supposed to do anything is quite depressing... or rather, the uncertainty of when I can do something.

All this pent up energy. Anticipation for the big day. Going back and forth with my cousin regarding out fits: Hat or visor? Orange or yellow? Will it be too cold? Too hot?

And now just crossing my fingers that this is nothing but a simple sprain that will get better as long as I sit on my butt and do nothing.

Which, of course, is nearly impossible with three kids.

The road to 4-0 starts with a few speed bumps.

2010-09-19T11:02:00.003-04:00

My son asked me this morning if I'm sick. Perhaps he's reading in to the grimace on my face every time I attempt to traverse the stairs. Actually, that grimace on my face is there every time I attempt to move. Yesterday was the big 20 mile training run for the marathon and it was the most miserable run. Ever. There are some days when I feel as though I can run forever. And there are days when the legs just would not move. Yesterday was the latter. Tenfold.

There was thunder and rain. Torrential rain. I tried a new route, which was actually a highlight of the morning. But by mile 17 I just wanted to go home and quit. My knee was hurting and the water was squishing out of my shoes, which is a HUGE pet peeve of mine. Normally on a good run these are the types of things I can block out of my mind. This is time to myself, and on the weekend long runs this is a lot of time to myself. But I suddenly didn't want to be doing what I was doing.

I soon realized as I approached home that I was short 2 miles. So I hit my usual route, once around. And finally, thankfully, it was done and over with.

Of course, today should have been the day to run. Partly sunny skies with the fall crispness in the air. Oh well. Perhaps with difficult days such as yesterday behind me, nothing else can seem nearly as miserable. Even those last 6.2 miles to the finish line on 10/10/10.

So when my son asked me if I'm sick, I told him it's not that I'm sick, it's that I'm OLD. He replied, "You're not old." with a smile on his face that indicated to me that he clearly thought I was being totally silly. Then he continued, "You're thirty f--... thirty-four. Or thirty-five." My youngest had to correct him. "No, she's thirty-EIGHT."

It is only a number, but at least my kids think I still have youth on my side.

By the way, I would have blogged about the Chicago Half Marathon, but the 20 mile training run this weekend was weighing on my mind. I think this was the run that would have determined how I might fair at the actual marathon. So now I know it's doable.

However, the half marathon was a lot of fun. It was such awesome energy to be amidst 20,000+ people. Next time I would run it differently, trying to avoid starting too far back in the line so that I don't spend the first half or the race weaving around people. But it was a good race to the end, with the speed kicking in at about mile 10. Maybe after this full marathon I will stick to running halfs. But we'll see how it goes.

Now the tapering starts. Less miles in preparation for the big one.

The Baby.

2010-09-10T01:07:00.003-04:00

So maybe I'm not such a serious blogger any longer because I didn't blog about my youngest child on her birthday, which was September 6. It's been a busy week, with pre-kindergarten starting in addition to all the kids' activities. It still hasn't sunk in that the weekend is just about here and there is that nagging sensation that I'm forgetting something very important.

Five years ago, this is what was happening on that very special day. Birthdays should never be forgotten or taken for granted, and when I remember the day my youngest was born, I am reminded of how each child is a blessing.

Even when there are still many things I wish I could change about myself or my life, there are some things that remind me of how lucky I am. On 09/06/05, that luck was multiplied by three.

Time to rest.

2010-09-10T00:49:00.003-04:00

Tomorrow is a day of rest and I'm going to do just that. Oftentimes we forget the importance of these rest days, which happen more often than one might assume on a marathon training schedule. So two days of doing almost nothing aside from things I really, really need to get done before my mom and sister arrive on Saturday.

The 18 miles went remarkably well. I felt a bit sore and achy when I got home, but nothing a bit of stretching couldn't fix. Later that afternoon we went to The Last Fling, which essentially was a miniature state fair, condensed into a few blocks of downtown Naperville. Needless to say, the cheese fries I kept stealing from my 9-year-old melted right off, along with everything else I ate that day (or that weekend). And suddenly 26.2 miles doesn't seem all that overwhelming. What's another 8.2, right? Riiiight. *wink wink*

This weekend is the half marathon, which will seem like a practice run compared to what's in store for the even-bigger-day in October. But I'm looking forward to running with the cousins (or, at the very least, meeting up with them somewhere at the finish line), and then heading home to get ready for my youngest's 5th birthday party. So another full weekend. And another full week after that.

I am actually thinking more about the 20 mile run in a couple of weeks, which will be the longest run on the training schedule. Like in: where and with whom? The 18 mile run was done solo, up the street from my house. So there was none of the Chicago lake front race prep fanfare. I did try a new route this week that was interesting, though I'm not sure if being out in the middle of what appeared to be the setting of Little House on the Prairie just begged for blustery winds, which always seemed to be in my face rather than on my back. Yet it was the fastest 9 miles I've run (and wishing/hoping I could maintain that for a whole 26.2... or heck, even 13.1).

After the 20 mile long long run I start to taper in preparation for the big day... 10/10/10.

I still can't believe I'm doing this.

Brrrr!

2010-09-03T20:02:00.003-04:00

Autumn is just a few weeks away. Or I should say it's already here. I've been shivering all day. But to me 70 degrees calls for a light sweater. The NC weather has spoiled me. The folks down south might get this weather in the dead of winter.

Tomorrow the mileage goes up and I'm scheduled to run 18 miles. I've spent days trying to map this out because the plans didn't work out to run in the city with the cousins. I figured I can sleep in a little longer if I stay local (for a drive to the city takes about an hour), but I guess my biggest concern is getting bored. And the lack of aid stations at the nearby park. And the need to do the whole route a little over three times to hit the 18 mile mark. I am hoping the local suburbanites don't wuss out and go on vacation over the long weekend so there are some people out and about at... 6 a.m.?

Okay, maybe I'm a little nuts. But I want to get this over with as quickly as possible. Three hours should do it if all goes well. And then I can go about my day and eat everything in sight (enjoying the spoils of burning nearly 1800 calories, yes!!).

But the weather. Brrrr. Even if I bundle up I will feel as though my head is melting by the time I hit 10 miles, if not sooner. I'll need to figure out the layers that can be stripped away. And to think, today I bought myself a new visor. I should have bought ear muffs instead.

I'm beginning to think the whole process of planning a long run is sometimes more fun than the running itself. Well, who am I kidding. There is that sweet spot somewhere around mile 4 in which the muscles are warm and I'm in a good cadence and feel like I can run all day. But the ascent and descent is sometimes a little miserable. Shiny new shoes and a lovely little pair of running shorts from lululemon can undoubtedly make a difference with the psyche. It's mostly a mental game, after all. Or so they say.

And of course, music helps. Time to make that 3+ hour playlist on the iPod.

9 miles.

2010-09-01T10:20:00.002-04:00

Wednesday is always that big bump during marathon training. The long-ish run, which could be really good or somewhat uncomfortable depending on how the Tuesday short run went. I have to wake up extra early on Wednesdays so that I can squeeze in the morning run before the kids need to get ready for school. Today there was no sun at 5:30 a.m. And it was raining. Wonderful. I finally got out the door a little after 6. Finally there was a little bit of daylight. But it was still raining.

I drove to the trail this time, to avoid the high school traffic, which I might have met on my run back home if I didn't time it correctly. The rain let up a little bit, but extra precautions had to be made for the sake of my iPod (a new purchase after my last one died). What stunk the most was that there really wasn't anyone out. What's wrong with these lazy people? I thought to myself as I made that first loop around the lake. On second thought, what's wrong with me?

Running in the rain has its benefits. It was a refreshing change from yesterday's humidity. After about 3 miles I felt pretty good. Nice and warm, had a good rhythm going. Six more miles to go. Easy-peasy even though I was sopping wet. As long as the iPod stays dry then I'm good go to. Thank goodness my ear pods are water resistant.

It seems that I'm running at a consistent pace without really thinking about it. I average out at 9:40 per mile, which hardly fast, but a whole heck of a lot faster than what I started out at just two months ago. Makes me feel a little hopeful that I won't be running a marathon in 6 hours, God willing. I have to remember that crossing the finish line is an accomplishment in itself.

So we are all getting excited for the Chicago Half coming up in a couple of weeks. All the cousins are running it. My mom and sister will be in town. A great way to ring in the big 39.

Mini me?

2010-08-31T10:18:00.002-04:00

My 4 year old had her pre-kindergarten orientation last night. Each student was asked to fill out a short questionnaire with simple, fill-in-the-blank answers such as "My name is __", etc. Most of the kids had their parents fill out the questionnaire for them, but my daughter insisted on doing the whole thing herself.

When she got to the last item on the list, she paused for a moment after I read the sentence: "I am special because ___."

She leaned over to me and whispered, "Because I'm beautiful!"

I couldn't help myself. I had to laugh, which annoyed her. She scowled and promptly changed her answer to, "because I have a big sister and brother."

So this makes me wonder how she will do this year. She actually missed the cut off date for kindergarten by a few days, and will already be 5 by the time school starts after Labor Day. She already knows her numbers and letters and does a pretty good job of writing her name. But aside from that, she has this amazing streak of independence coupled with a whole lot of self confidence. You can't really tell her what to wear each day (right down to her unmatched socks), and she'll probably make up a song and sing about it at the top of her lungs while browsing the aisles at Target.

I'm sure she would have been fine in kindergarten if they allowed testing in the school district. I was told they didn't. She turns 5 after the cut off date and there are no exceptions. I was somewhat disappointed about this, thinking more about all the things I can finally do with my kids away at school 6+ hours a day.

But, I suddenly felt differently when my older two kids started school last week... as I slowly made my way back to the car with tears brimming. One more year with just me and my mini me is perfectly fine by me.

Ah, Monday is so much brighter!

2010-08-23T09:37:00.003-04:00

We did our long run on Sunday this time, so as Monday rolled around, the legs are a bit sore. I'm not in the mood to do any strength training today. But ah, that cup of coffee, the first in a week, was such a wonderful way to start the week. I did what I would normally do on a caffeine high: I rearranged the living room furniture.

My right knee was a bit achy during the 16 mile run, but it didn't actually bothered me. With every long run, I have been trying different things. This time I loaded up on the carbs on the days leading up to Sunday. And I tried not to pay too much attention to all the calories I was consuming before and during the run. The muscles need a continuous load of glycogen, I kept telling myself. So all in all, I had consumed more than 700 calories before noon, all pure carbs. Yikes. But it made all the difference in the world. In fact, I probably should have consumed more. I still have the nagging question in my head: how the heck would this be possible all the way up to 26.2 miles? It's still a super human feat to me. I am still toying with foregoing the race, which is still an option since I have yet to purchase a bib off of Craigslist.

Just a side note: Since this year's marathon will be on 10/10/10, the registration filled up rather quickly last March. At that time I had absolutely no desire to run any sort of distance, much less a marathon. I jumped into marathon training in order to have a convenient fitness regimen now that I am in Chicago -- and it has been a fun thing to do with my cousins. The inevitable end result would be to actually run the marathon, so I've been browsing Craigslist for people who are selling their bibs. There have been a good handful, those who have been injured or realized they had other commitments that day or what not, though granted I would have to run under their name, which isn't an issue since I don't really intend on winning the race or qualifying for the Boston Marathon (ha!). I just need to commit to actually running that race. It sort of scares me, to be honest.

So, the kids start school tomorrow, leaving just the youngest with me until she starts pre-K the Wednesday after Labor Day. Finally, structure in our lives again. Along with coffee I can foresee that this will be a good week.

1 week

2010-08-23T01:08:00.003-04:00

So I decided to give up coffee one week ago. Quit cold turkey, with only an occasional Excedrin to help with the migraines. I know of many people who have done this successfully, with just 2 or 3 days of headaches, and after that they (supposedly) felt fabulous. Not me. One week later - still miserable. And you know, in mile 3 of my 16 mile run today, I still had to pee. So I think it's more about training that bladder of mine, rather than giving up what ever diuretics that might be causing that darned urge to go at the worst moments.

So tomorrow I'm trying something new. We'll see what happens. And with it I will have a piping hot cup of joe. Amen!

A life so different.

2010-08-18T14:19:00.005-04:00

Since the day we parted ways there have been probably just two occasions in which my ex-husband and I were in the same room together. The last time I happened to glance at him and immediately I wondered to myself how on earth I was married to him at one point in my life. Not that he's a bad person. It's just that we are so different.

I guess through college and most of my twenties, I never quite found a niche to fall into. Instead, I latched onto what I considered at the time to be a good catch and quickly adopted his circle of friends as my own, along with the hobbies and interests that went along with them. I did re-connect with old high school friends, but we saw each other less frequently when the kids came along. In order to juggle family, house, hobbies, and kids, it was much easier to become hermits, especially during the midwest winter months. I would say photography was probably the only thing that motivated me to head outdoors. Well, that and as the kids grew older, they craved that change of scenery as much as I did.

Fast forward four years. Yes, four years has already gone by since the day it all went kaput. Many people can probably speculate as to when that day was, since I'm sure they have a completely different perspective on the whole thing, depending on what role they were forced into through all the drama. But I remember that day quite vividly, and it's not what most people would assume. In those four years we all went through much anguish obviously, for who goes through a divorce without any anguish? I would venture to say that I emerged a completely different person, physically, mentally, emotionally. Not that it was a smooth transition, for there were many moments of feeling as though I had hit rock bottom. I still feel bits of regret, guilt, and remorse, wishing there was some way this all could have played out differently to avoid hurting anyone's feelings. But I cannot imagine going back to that old life and the old me.

As I approach the last year of my 30s, I sort of wish I could have come to this epiphany before getting married. I was only 26 at the time, and maybe there are some women who have it completely together by that age, but that person was definitely not me. What I would give to have 26 year old aspirations, still innocent and hopeful (not to mention, 26 year old knees to help me train for my marathon!). But perhaps that's where the problem was. Back when I was lacking in responsibilities, which therefore meant a lack of focus. Not a care in the world. La-ti-da, c'est la vie!

The irony is that I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up. My youngest will be in kindergarten next year (2011) so I suppose I have a full school year to figure that out. But if the past 13 years have been any indication, the time will fly by quickly, like in the blink of an eye. I can feel reassurance in knowing that I won't go through any great metamorphosis. I like myself just the way I am.

Well, I do wish I could run a little faster.

Day 4. Still alive.

2010-08-18T11:29:00.003-04:00

Let's be honest here. There really isn't any HUGE health benefits to giving up coffee. Or at least that's the first thing I tell myself every single morning as I'm shaking out the cob webs . Shawn is a big coffee drinker. So every single day this week I have only the fumes of freshly ground, freshly brewed coffee to keep me awake. *yawn*

As I start Day 4 sans coffee, I feel a whole heck of a lot better than I did on Day 1. But not that much better. Though the worst part is after lunch when I really start to drag. And I'll admit that Excedrin has been helping. Quite a lot.

Ugh.

2010-08-15T13:25:00.006-04:00

Today I finally decided to do what I have been meaning to do for months, if not years. I've given up coffee. Cold turkey.

Coffee brings me such joy every morning. And in worst case scenarios, it has kept me up at all hours of the night. It helps me get through the occasional bout of what I call the 2-o-clock sleepies, when I've eaten a little too much at lunch and would give anything to just shut my eyes for a bit.

But what's most important is that it keeps me from being a very boring person. Without it I speak in monotone. I have nothing interesting to say and I certainly have little or no interest in engaging in any sort of conversation. When I taught group fitness classes even my yoga class was slow and chore to get through. I don't even think most of the participants could hear what I was saying.

I am addicted to coffee. I NEED it every day in order to function, and when it doesn't work I feel as though my whole universe is going to cave in. I would so much love to just be energetic and perky on my own, with may be the help of some vitamins and post exercise endorphins.

But while running 15 miles, as I did last Saturday along the lake front, the last thing I want to do is pee. And because of the diuretic effects of coffee, my bladder felt the need to empty what little contents it had over and over and over again. This cannot be the same scenario on any race day, I kept telling myself after resisting the urge to stop at yet another port-o-potty. It would be impossible to follow the advice of my marathon running friends and stay hydrated by sipping 4 ounces of water or Gatorade every X amount of miles if those 4 ounces had the undying need to leave my body every few minutes.

Perhaps this is just another way of listening to my body. Yet I foresee a few days of fire and brimstone, for I am not in a good mood right now. And everyone will soon see me as the person I really am: quiet, reserved, and just plain boring.

You've come a long way, baby.

2010-08-13T10:23:00.002-04:00

Wow, I didn't realize until a few minutes ago that you can get all fancy-shmancy with Blogger without having to rip up the code. I used to spend countless hours trying to customize this template, only to find that I've completely screwed it up, with widgets and borders floating aimlessly around the screen. (Though I am hoping that in browsers other than Safari, that isn't happening!).

Now I can rest easy knowing that there is still some coolness factor here, even though I can't seem to articulate it like I used to.

The brain: that which has turned to mush.

2010-08-13T09:16:00.004-04:00

My brain has been reduced to text messaging and quick Facebook comments. It is no longer accustomed to articulating my thoughts via this blog, or at least not in a way that makes me appear to have the ability to actually write. Everything comes out with such great hesitation, with the DELETE key being used more than most of the other keys.

My brain has turned to mush.

I carved out a comfy little corner in the basement where I do strength training 2-3 times a week. Fortunately I have all the music from my classes, so I run through my usual class from beginning to end.

On occasion my 4-year-old pretends to work out with me. As she takes her turn "teaching" the class, she cycles through her own scripted lines with great gusto:

"OKAY, LET'S GO!"

"SQUEEZE YOUR BUTT!"

"ALRIGHT, SQUEEZE YOUR BODY!"

I know I say much more when I teach a class, even when I'm pretending. I've learned to communicate all I have to say in short, concise bursts so as not to overwhelm the audience while they're ripping their muscles.

Sort of like when I'm text messaging. Or disciplining my kids.

On the road to a marathon.

2010-08-11T07:32:00.006-04:00

Since moving to Illinois the inevitable happened. Those 5 pounds crept up on the scale with seemingly little effort and I started to get antsy without a regular exercise routine. I always harbor this fear that I will revert back to my old overweight self, like, overnight. It's an irrational fear, of course, which I quickly forget once I'm eating another plate of delicious filipino food. And with Mom visiting to help us settle in, there was always plenty of food in the fridge. As my dear sister cautioned me once, "Don't let Mom go hungry. She'll get crabby!"

When I lived in Illinois years ago, I rarely had the opportunity to see my extended family. With babies and in-laws to juggle, it was often too much of a fiasco to jump from one house to another during the holidays and so forth. But since moving back to Illinois, the family get togethers have been nearly every weekend. It's been wonderful, mostly because I felt like I fell into this awesome and fun social circle without having to work my way in. I felt accepted without having to do anything but show up, and everyone was just as excited to see my kids.

The talk during most these family get togethers has been about running. I have one cousin who is a cross country coach at a high school who qualified for the Boston Marathon after his first attempt at the Chicago Marathon a few years ago. Before I moved I often heard tidbits of talk amongst my cousins about how they plan to do fun races in the area, though I was never able to partake due to my own schedule (and running was never my thing). Even as early as last winter when my cousins signed up to run the Chicago Marathon this year, I thought they were absolutely nuts. Run for how long? Why??

But all it took was a little bit of my mental frumpiness and the promise of Chinese food to convince myself to go on an impromptu 9 mile run with my cousins one summer morning along the lake front. All the talk of their mileage and races (and seemingly unlimited imbibing afterwards) was actually making me green with envy. I tossed and turned the night before, mostly concerned about what I should eat for breakfast and if there were any places for pitstops in case I need to empty my bladder. And what if I were to crash and burn at, say, mile 7? For I knew I could run 6, I had done that many times on the treadmill, but beyond that was beyond me.

After that fateful day, I guess you could say I was hooked. I was curious to see if I could do it again, and again, and again. Thankfully a friend of mine sent me a half marathon training schedule, which was a godsend to my knees. Since this was now my primary form of exercise, I quickly grew bored with it and switched to a full marathon schedule.

In all honesty, it's not as overwhelming as it sounds. I do short runs 3 days a week with one long run on the weekend, cross train another day, rest the two remaining days. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm a NOVICE runner. All the conditioning I've done the past couple of years has made me strong and fit, but running is a whole other ball game. I need to remind myself to run slower to avoid injury, and rest rest rest. It's about throwing stubborn out the window and learning patience and discipline, listening to what my body is trying to tell me.

This Saturday I am scheduled to run 15 miles with my cousins. They've all come together to help me out with my kids so I can join them on their run, which is wonderful. But to be honest, 10 miles is where things start to hurt. I'm hoping that taking it (somewhat) easy this week, and perhaps throwing in a few extra yoga classes, will get me through those last 5 miles.

Aaah, new beginnings. Again.

2010-07-26T11:16:00.002-04:00

Many months after my last post I find myself back where I started. It seems no matter how much I used to complain about the crazy weather in the midwest, it wasn't enough to stop me from moving back. Perhaps I'll be doing the same complaining 6 months from now, stuck indoors during the dead of winter (or rather, stuck on the driveway shoveling away the last snowfall). But right now this feels like home. It's so good to be back.

I gave North Carolina another year and it became clear to me that I needed something more for me and my kids. I met some great friends there, yet there was that constant struggle to find something that felt more secure and permanent. Around January of this year I started to wonder if Chicago was the place to be yet again, so I decided to make a solo trip during the kids' spring break. Then Shawn decided to come along, and I guess one might say the rest is history.

I think this is the best decision I have made... finally, a SOUND decision that seems to have made everyone happy. So the adventure continues.... I'll keep you posted.

Almost February!

2010-01-29T14:07:00.003-05:00

I let too much time pass between blog posts. I really shouldn't do that.

Some good things are happening, I think. I had a job interview yesterday for the Group Fitness Manager at my gym. My good friend decided to step down so that she can focus more on her young kinds and teaching at other gyms. I think it would be something neat to try. I think it would be neat to have something to put on my resume again. And I'd have business cards. :) There were many people interested in this position, some of whom surprised me. How do you become a manager of group fitness at a gym if you don't even teach classes. You'd think that would be the first requirement on the list. Right? Well, we shall see. Many people have fallen into some tough times and need the job more than I do... and some are fresh from the corporate world and have experience managing people. Whatever happens is what was meant to be.

So, life is going on. I'm teaching several times a week and having fun. The kids are keeping me busy. Beyond today or maybe the next week I really don't know what is happening. And I'm not really sure if I should worry about it too much. Some people say that's "survival mode". Perhaps it is, if your goal is to preserve your sanity.

Well, North Carolina is bracing for a snow storm. I have a jewelry party tonight and I have classes to teach at the gym this weekend. I hope this storm doesn't hold us down, though I am starting to hear stories of years past when people were stranded on the highway for 11 hours and their kids were forced to spend the night at school. What?? I used to RUN in the snow. So, I suppose if this were to happen, I'll just put the running shoes on, keeping in mind the kids' school is 3 miles away. I wouldn't expect the kids to run home with me if they were stuck at school. So I'll just pay them a visit, then pick them up when the streets are safe for driving.

I'm just kidding. Though I think they'd really LOVE a sleep over party at their school rather than being stuck in what my 9 year old calls "Boringville".

Tylenol P.M. is sometimes my best friend.

2009-12-30T02:04:00.004-05:00

Tomorrow I leave for North Carolina, after spending 10 days in Florida with my parents and siblings. It was definitely a worthwhile getaway, though as much as I crave the solitude, I couldn't help but think that this vacation would have been more complete if there were three sets of little feet pitter pattering around.

Today was especially bittersweet because my son turned 6. But he is in Chicago celebrating with his dad's side of the family. Such is the case when divorced parents spend the holidays in two different cities, and one of the kids happens to have a birthday close to the holidays.

And so I decided just a short while ago that I never want to spend the holidays away from my kids. Because a missed Christmas and a missed birthday - all within days of each other - is like a big whopping double whammy. I know my son is having a great time, so this emotional upheaval is likely just affecting me (or so I like to think). Nevertheless, I don't want this to happen again, no matter how cold and disgusting I think the Chicago winters are; no matter how expensive a trip to Florida would be.

Sure this is definitely quality time spent with my brother, sister, and parents. It was fun to peruse the shops in Naples and have one savory meal after another, uninterrupted and full of adult conversation amid glasses of red wine. But then there are evenings like tonight when all I wish to do is think happy thoughts in order to get a good night's rest. And the happy thoughts of my children soon lead to thoughts of missing them and sadness.

Sometimes I think it would be easier to revert back to the "me" of last year, or the year before. When I was more interested in finding some sort of escape rather than face the trials and tribulations of an impending divorce and becoming a single mom. Or maybe I was just too concerned with other things weighing my mind and my heart which I finally came to the realization are of so little significance or importance to me unless I just want to continue to live a life of heartache and drama.

There was a BodyFlow class I took a few months ago (which is a class I also teach, essentially a fusion of yoga, tai chi, and pilates all rolled into one convenient hour long class). It always ends with about 10 minutes of relaxation and meditation. The instructor told us to paint a picture of "calm" and to focus on every minute detail, from the colors to the sounds, and she encouraged us to stay in this environment. This perfect place of peace and happiness.

I pictured myself and my children, swinging peacefully in hammocks fastened between a row of palm trees. We're on the beach, with miles of white, pristine sand. The temperature is perfect. There are no worries concerning the time of day or quarrels, or even of hunger and thirst. It's just peaceful, happy, harmonious. I realized towards the final minutes of meditation that one particular person was not there. I would not allow him to be, for his presence always meant there was an end to this freedom to do as we please. For there are always things to be done, responsibilities to be met, other people to please, things that are wrong and needed to be fixed.

I would gladly pull my children out of these 10 minutes of meditation and back into the real world, for obviously that's what real life is. But I suddenly felt that despite the challenges I may face if I chose to move on with my life, I had this overwhelming desire to just go ahead and do it because I knew it would be better for everyone.

Peace, happiness, harmony. No one can put a price tag on any of that... ESPECIALLY if it's all I have to ensure a normal childhood for my kids.

So is this one resolution for the New Year? One step towards making 2010 a little less disastrous than 2009. For here I am, in the best shape I've been in, but mentally and emotionally I am still a shambles. Perhaps it's time to focus on what's going on internally. Extinguish all those fires that have caused so much angst over the past two years and just move on. MOVE ON.

And then perhaps there will be less need for things like Tylenol P.M. to get some sleep, which apparently has yet to do its magic, as the clock approaches 2:30 a.m. I can go to sleep at night, finally, without first wallowing in this pool of self doubt. Am I a good enough mom? Am I a good enough person/photographer/friend/girlfriend/ex-wife/daughter/sister? Will I be able to make it in this world?

And of course the most pressing question: Will they grow up to be okay?

Yeah. So what.

2009-10-01T17:44:00.002-04:00

So. Part of the reason why I stopped blogging was because this no longer seemed like a suitable place to write down my thoughts. I was criticized for making my whining and complaining public, but then it is such a pain to restrict readers and require everyone to log in if they happen to be curious about what my latest issue is about.

Okay, so perhaps it all stems from my laziness (or my readers' laziness? teehee). But on the other hand, it's just in bad taste to air one's garbage. Even if this will all probably be read by no one, or by people I will never meet, or by people who will make no difference in the grand scheme of things.

When you really think about it, though... who cares? Some days I have a bee in my bonnet and I just have this urge to get it off my chest and I don't really care who knows what or what anybody thinks.

Or maybe I'm just bored. And that's what the problem is. I shouldn't be bored because my house is always a mess and there are numerous projects that have needed my attention for weeks, months... even (yikes) years. And of course, my kids are in school so I have all the time in the world to take pride in my home. I just need to get off the elliptical trainer, stop chitchatting so much with the members at the gym before and after the classes I teach, and focus on NOT being so damn selfish all the time. Because if I cared, then I would have a perfect home, free of dust and clutter, with every throw pillow neatly in line on the couch. Oh, and my children would be prodigies.

But no. I am lazy, selfish. And I don't even go to church on Sundays.

A train wreck, I tell ya.

...

2009-09-25T10:20:00.003-04:00

Surreal

2009-08-29T07:23:00.003-04:00

Perhaps that's the best word to describe what I'm feeling right now. Granted, I was up until 3 a.m. and found myself awake at 6 a.m., having acclimated to this new early back-to-school wake up time. It's certainly different the second time around, with responsibilities and children and treading lightly around ex's.

But I'm happy. And I honestly didn't expect a ring. After all, we have 5 children between us, and the mere number of peanut butter & jelly sandwiches they can potentially consume in one sitting would put anyone in the red.

So perhaps pleasantly surprised is a more accurate description. Though I don't feel the same innocent exhilaration I felt when I was in my mid-20's, wide-eyed, and naive (a more p.c. way of saying "clueless"), there is certainly a great deal of happiness to be found in feeling focused and settled. Finally.

And another thing.

2009-07-29T00:24:00.003-04:00

Yes, I have been doing some photography work. The key word there is "work". Funny how once it is considered "work" it's no longer as much fun. I forgot that I had my flickr slideshow on the sidebar. There you will see my personal trainer, who needed some shots done for his website. Lots of kittens, since Lila had a litter of four last May (two are still here, one of which is going to be leaving soon, I hope). And maybe a handful of instructor's children.

Though I shouldn't complain. I do still love photography. I think I'm just my own worst critic. And I don't like to be stuck to the computer for too many hours in the day... or night.

Right now...

2009-07-29T00:02:00.003-04:00

Right now I am sitting in bed, having just devoured a small helping of cereal, waiting for the night time cold medication to work. I haven't had much time to pay attention to this blog, which is a shame considering all the work I have put into it through the years. The winters here in North Carolina just aren't enough to warrant a season long hibernation, which would give me time to do things like blog.

In truth, any time I do spend on the computer is often on Facebook, which may or may not be a good thing. Perhaps I justify that time more because there is usually something positive to be said about reconnecting and keeping in touch with friends and relatives, especially those who would otherwise be considered MIA.

Currently I'm teaching two formats at the gym, about 4-6 hours of classes a week. Monday is my most gruelling day because I am covering another instructor's morning class until the end of the summer. So Monday means three classes, though yesterday I taught four - two in the morning and two at night. If I didn't love it so much I probably wouldn't bother, but the members are what keep me going. Now I will be going to Florida for two weeks and I am not looking forward to being disconnected. But of course, everyone needs a break, even though it will mean having wet noodles for limbs when I return.

The kids spent the last 3 weeks in Illinois with their grandparents. Of course they had a great time. Their return meant "back to Boringville", as my oldest likes to call this place. I have my own childhood to compare hers to (as most parents like to do) so her whining is easy to dismiss. All three kids will be in school this fall... (insert happy dance here). Granted, my youngest will only be in preschool twice a week, but it will be SO nice to have those few hours to do a Walmart/Target/Costco run without the endless "I wants".

Well, this entry has to come to an end since my eyelids are growing heavy by the minute. And since I am no longer a seasoned blogger, I fear that this attempt at an update is going to bore the internet to tears.

Good night. :)

The pitter patter of little feet.

2009-02-25T13:41:00.002-05:00

Motherhood has taught me unconditional love. I'm not talking about the love a parent has for a child, since I think that's an obvious bond, but the other way around. No matter how often I make the wrong decisions, put my worst foot forward, and stumble, my kids love me anyway. Even on my worst days, all they need is a smile and a hug and I am still the best thing that's ever happened to them.

The three sets of innocent eyes, little hands, little voices. I can't help but wonder how much I don't deserve such blessings.

The tiring adventure

2009-02-07T09:30:00.002-05:00

I just realized. I'm on the schedule for the gym every single day next week except for Sunday. Granted, I'm subbing a class on Tuesday. But still. That's a little nuts. So, just for kicks, here's my schedule, in case anyone wants to check out my classes. Hehe

Monday BODYPUMP 6:30 p.m.

Tuesday BODYFLOW 10:30 a.m.

Wednesday BODYPUMP 10:30 a.m.

Thursday BODYFLOW 10:30 a.m.

Friday BODYPUMP 10:30 a.m.

Saturday BODYFLOW 11:30 a.m.

A great combo, even if you're a participant. It'll be a good paycheck anyway. I think I'll buy me some new shoes.

What it is like to have your heart broken.

2009-01-31T13:39:00.002-05:00

There are certain songs that stay with me. One of them is Vivaldi's Winter. It's beautiful... and something that I would have wanted played at my wedding one day. But there is an element of delicate sadness to it, perhaps the anticipation of death as the frigid months bring a white blanket of snow over everything. And I remember on the coldest of days after a snowfall, there was always that deafening silence that had an eeriness about it.

I think about what would move someone to write something like this... his emotions forever recorded in history as a classic. And certainly everyone has their own interpretation of it. It once brought me happiness, especially when I heard it played at Edith's daughter's wedding a number of years ago -- in the summer no less.

What would bring someone such emotion that they are able to represent what he or she is feeling in a work of art? I always imagine that it would have to be such intense emotion, which would make one's heart burst because the sensation is so immeasurable and strong. If it's love, then that could be the most wonderful feeling. However, if it's heartache... how would one communicate this is a way that evokes such beauty.

For me right now it's nothing but a mixed up ball of barbed wire. Having to be careful where I reach for fear of causing even more pain. Cautious of who I turn to for help, for the sadness I feel can be too overwhelming for someone who doesn't know me well enough.

And that's where the loneliness sets in. Who do I turn to when all I want is for someone to sit in front of me and just listen, while I sip my glass of red wine, all my emotions numbed by Xanax and exhaustion.

I have the energy to be angry. But other emotions overpower this. Sadness. Fear. Loneliness. I wish I could write a song. It would not be as uplifting as anything written by Vivaldi. But maybe that can make other people understand what I feel right now.

Well. Whatever.

2009-01-31T12:19:00.003-05:00

I decided to make this blog public again. It really doesn't matter in the whole grand scheme of things, with the internet being as big as the universe and I usually don't have much earth shattering news to share about anyone or anything.

But what do I have to hide?

I decided to move back to Chicago this summer. When I make decisions based my kids, the decision is always easy to make. It's best for them. I can find another gym to teach at if I feel like it. I have friends and family there. I know where every Target is located and I can send the kids back to their old pediatrician. Familiarity helps.

As far as everything else. Whatever. I think that will be my attitude for most of 2009.

The countdown before his departure.

2009-01-18T20:55:00.002-05:00

Well. February 1 is his first day at his new job. Meanwhile, I keep hearing accounts of the horrid weather in the midwest, and the last thing I want to do is be a part of that. It's fairly chilly here in NC... yesterday it was a frigid 15 degrees outside, which I could barely stand. I can't imagine having to experience -15 weather. I still don't understand why anyone would choose to live in such conditions.

But then....

I remember those first breaths of fresh spring air. It's one of the things I loved about living in Illinois, when the seasons finally started to change.

Of course, I can't base a huge decision on the weather. There are the kids' needs, my needs, his needs, all of which seem to clash with one another. I honestly am not sure what's the best decision for all of us, and it changes on a daily basis.

Meanwhile, I'm just moving ahead with my plans. Why should I sit stagnant for 6+ months because my future is filled with uncertainty? I know it's going to take a while to get re-established. And perhaps I'm thinking too negatively when I tell myself that there is no way I will meet friends like the ones I have now. But I believe that for some reason. I just feel too tired to make that same effort to reach out to strangers... all too often I feel like it's a crap shoot. Here in NC it's as though I chose the correct one or two people to befriend, and everything else just snowballed quite easily.

So basically, there is nothing new in my life. I did train to teach a new program at the gym - BODYFLOW. And next weekend I plan on making the trek out to Charlotte to train in BODYCOMBAT (which is essentially kickboxing... I always get a funny look from people when I mention that... hehe). A lot of people think I'm a bit nuts to try and squeeze another program in there. But I want to be certified to teach in all three group fitness formats: strength, mind/body, and cardio. Maybe it's my way of trying to establish myself in this tightly knit fitness community, where everyone seems to know everyone. And despite already having quite a bit on my plate, I just feel like the timing is right. Sure I can wait for another time to take on something new... but why wait?

And really, what do I do all day? I recognize motherhood as a demanding job... but unlike a typical desk job, I have a lot of down time to memorize tracks. My kids can probably teach this stuff now too. :)

So... in closing... hmm, I don't have anything profound to say. Just keep warm and stay safe. And celebrate on January 20. :)

Happy New Year. Or something like that.

2009-01-01T01:02:00.002-05:00

I've come to the realization that 2 weeks in Florida at my parents' house is just the right amount of time to feel like I wish I hadn't stayed here for this long. By now my whole routine is completely out of whack. I haven't done any real exercise. I'm eating way too much food and have had seemingly nonstop indigestion for the past few days. And the kids... they are starting to drive me bonkers.

But of course, I'm sure soon after I get back home again I will be wishing I were back here. Only without the indigestion.

We missed the ringing in of the new year. Maybe that's symbolic of how our lives are right now. Sort of a blur because there are too many distractions that are keeping us from enjoying what otherwise could be memorable moments. So perhaps 2009 will be the year of getting rid of clutter. All those speed bumps that are keeping me (us) from truly living life. My kids' happiness is tied to my own, as any mom would know. Though I think they are doing pretty well most of the time, I always get this nagging sensation in my gut that I could be doing a better job. And so the first thing that has to go is the garbage that is stinking up our lives.

This year I will be 38 years old. I am in disbelief over how close I am to 40, for it seems just yesterday I was almost hitting 30. While I can't completely blame the ex for making me feel like I wish I could declare a big "DO OVER" for a good portion of my 20s, I'll be damned if I let someone else make me wish the same thing when I hit 40. It's not too late to change that. But in order to do this, I need to put the garbage in the dumpster, otherwise I'll constantly be tripping over it. Sadly, this is the sort of thing that just won't go away on its own. I have to give it the good drop kick to send it on its merry way. Ugh.

I know this will be an interesting year. I have a better sense of control of my life, even though there is that whole Chicago move thing hanging over me. Yes, the ex decided to take the job and his first day is February 1st. And I have no idea what this entails for me and my kids, but it had better be good or else I, or WE, will have nothing to do with it.

Excuse me while I think out loud here.

2008-11-26T12:44:00.003-05:00

I realized how much simpler the decision making process is when I make my decisions based on my kids. Move to North Carolina? Sure. Oh, now we're going back to Chicago. Let me think about this for a moment... um, okay.

The difference between now and then is back then I didn't have anything going on other than mommyhood. Now I have a photography business that is starting to take off. A gig at the gym. Girlfriends who love to sit around and drink wine and gossip.

Yet, I was willing to give up all of that just so the kids could grow up near their Dad.

However, I am starting to get those red flags. Saying things to me like, "GOSH I wish I had control of my life." in reference to his difficulty in making decisions because he has children to worry about, as though it suddenly occurred to him that he was a dad and had responsibilities that did not just revolve around him.

And here is the real zinger: we were planning on going through mediation next month. Fine by me. And it was about damn time. But now there is all this talk about moving to Chicago and I suggested we file for divorce in Chicago. He is insisting that we do it here. Reason being... he is entitled to FAR less child support. A dismal amount really. This was something I was willing to accept. I'd get on my feet, which I am finally doing now, and I'd manage wonderfully and finally become more independent.

But something doesn't add up. The cost of living in Chicago is SIGNIFICANTLY higher than it is here. So basically he is hoping to get away with paying less while we live in a place that requires more. Does he really think I'm that stupid??

And to add to this whole thing. I asked that he be as supportive as possible while I get resettled YET AGAIN. Because I am responsible for the kids full time (yes, he comes by MWF to hang out with them but none of this actually entails any thought into planning out the kids' daily activities), I will have to concentrate on getting them settled before I can figure out what the heck I'm going to do there. I'd be starting over trying to network and finding a gym where I can teach that has a daycare that I can use and trust.

But he only plans on paying one extra thing: health insurance. Oh gee, thanks. He said he'd pay that and the child support would cover the rent. And basically I'd have to figure out how to cover the rest.

Typical. Why am I surprised? Now I am questioning what it is I'm doing, moving back to a place that I always disliked. True there are some positive things about moving there, but these mostly benefit him and the kids. I feel guilty even wondering, "What about ME?" But I'm wondering that anyway. Because I really don't know what to expect any more.

Twists and turns.

2008-11-23T11:00:00.005-05:00

I have been living in North Carolina for over a year now. I hated it at first, mostly because I didn't know anybody which only lead me to isolate myself even more. Though admittedly it was nice to be in a metropolitan area, surrounded by universities and museums, movie theaters and Starbucks (or Panera if I was in the mood).

I finally decided last spring that it was time to come out of my shell and meet people. I did what I thought was unthinkable at the time and invited myself over to someone's house to take photos of her kids. We ended up becoming close friends. It's nice to know that I'm one of the first people she calls when she wants to hang out. I've never really had close girlfriends before... well let me digress... NORMAL girlfriends before... women who don't have weird hang ups or are excessively needy.

Then with all the things happening at the gym, I am starting to feel like I finally have my own thing going that has nothing to do with kids. Not that I don't love my kids or relish the time I spend with them, but I feel as though I appreciate and enjoy those times even more now that I have something to call my very own. Granted, I can't really live off of what I make as a fitness instructor, but there are certainly perks: the obvious health benefits, free daycare, free gym membership, and of course the endless networking possibilities. It has truly been a great way to meet new people and promote my photography.

So I think it was reasonable for me to fly off the handle when Nick called me the other day with his news: his old boss from Chicago had been interviewing people for a VP position at the American Medical Association. After 6 months, she hadn't found any potential candidates but she thinks he'd be a perfect fit. Basically the job is his if he chooses to take it. That's great for him... given today's economy. Not to mention, his company will probably be bought out next year. He will either be laid off or be required to relocate to Pennsylvania.

Well, when I got over my little hissy fit (or really, not so little hissy fit, for I really did not appreciate his expectation that I'd HAVE to move where he goes because we have children together), I have given this some thought. Moving back to Chicago certainly will have its benefits because we know people there. However, I made it clear to him that he needs to understand how this will impact me. Since I have the kids full time, it will be a challenge to get settled once again. Of course it will be easier since we know people there already, therefore things like finding a new pediatrician or where the nearest Super Target is located will not be an issue. But gosh, the thought of starting all over again. I don't like that. And I especially will not like it if he puts pressure on me to get my own thing going again. I don't think he quite understands how much of a challenge that is for me - kids or no kids.

Currently I am already scheduled to teach 5 days a week starting January. Technically I'm not suppose to be on the schedule because my certification hasn't gone through. I signed up to train for another program called BodyFLOW in a couple of weeks, which allow me to teach more classes since the program can be taught every day, and I have already been given a Saturday mornng class starting January. The only reason why this was made possible is because I've become close friends with the group fitness manager for all the North Carolina Lifestyle Family Fitness gyms. Plus my availability for daytime weekday classes has made me fairly valuable (well, in addition to being physically able to actually teach these programs).

Anyway, it's all re-doable, of course. It's just that I have been making HUGE efforts the past several months to do something with myself that I actually like doing. So many great things have happened as a result, and I'm pretty pleased with the way things have been going.

Well, minus the romantic aspect. Though the difference now is I no longer feel like I NEED someone. I'm perfectly happy doing my own thing, having my own schedule, my own life. I no longer worry about getting things done after the kids go to bed, whether it's laundry or cleaning or catching up with emails and the latest goings on via the Internet. Life just seems more simple like this.

Every night I go to bed with Isabella snuggled up next to me. This reminds me of what the best things in my life are at this moment. And life is pretty good when I let it be this uncomplicated.

Toddlerisms

2008-11-20T11:12:00.002-05:00

Because of the different ages of my kids, there is usually a tug of war with the tv remote. The oldest likes The Suite Life of Zach and Cody (much to my chagrin), the youngest likes Caillou. So on the off chance we're home in the morning and the Baby asks to watch tv, it's usually a mad scramble for me to change the channel. Because the last thing I need is for another kid to get sucked into the Disney Channel. I don't mind the programming as much as all those darned commercials which almost always lead to an extreme case of the "I wants".

But of course, the tv remote is always missing. And I ask the younger two if they happen to know where it is.

"Isabella, where is the button?"

"The bunnnt?"

"Yes, the button for the tv. That way you can watch Noggin."

"There's the bunnt!" (Pointing to the dvd player.)

"Oh, so you call it a bunnt? Okay... where's the bunnnt."

"No, Mommy, not a BUNNNT. A BUNNNNT."

"Not a bunnnt? You mean a BUTTON?"

"Yes, a BUNNNT."

I should probably teach her the correct way to say "button". But I think I much prefer the toddler pronunciation.

Wow... what to say.

2008-11-19T23:07:00.002-05:00

I am sitting here on my laptop, waiting for Isabella to fall asleep. The old sleeping routine wasn't working so this is a new arrangement. I must say that for the most part it seems to work quite well. Although most of the time she is asleep by this time. Actually, she was 90% there, which I was almost certain of because her little feet stopped moving around while I lay next to her in the dark.

As luck would have it... or is it a Murphy's Law sort of thing... the doorbell rang.

You know, with today's technology you'd think that those who lack the common sense to ring my doorbell when he knows very well I'm trying to put the kids to bed would know to send an email or text message. Or at the very least pick up the phone and CALL FIRST.

So I had to immediately jump out of bed for fear that the older two kids would awaken, likely thinking it was already the crack of dawn rather than the middle of the night.

And of course, within minutes I could hear the pitter patter of little feet, searching the dark room for mommy. So she joined us. Me and my middle of the night visitor. We ate chicken noodle soup and cheese. Or rather, I'd say Isabella and I did. The visitor just stood at the kitchen counter eating his food, barely uttering a word. He knows I'm a stickler about sitting down so that you can appreciate every bite eaten at a meal. Yet, he always seems to take that same spot at the kitchen counter anyway.

At least Isabella and I had a nice meal together, giggling with every noodle she noisily slurped. I assume it was impossible for him to appreciate that since she isn't his kid. And then I started to wonder why on earth this asshole rang my doorbell at 10:45 p.m. if all he did was stand there, stone faced. Barely even able to muster up a smile over the cuteness of Isabella.

So here we are, 11:21 p.m. Me and Isabella. My plans for a long hot shower have been postponed. It would have to take place tomorrow, hopefully before anyone is awake. And God help this person if he rings my door bell before I have my first cup of coffee. Because I plan on enjoying it while sitting at the kitchen table. Perhaps with an English muffin or slice of toast. Relishing each and every bite.

I have a lot to write. Not so much to share with anyone what's been going on with me. But just a reminder to myself of how things are at this moment in time. The one word to describe it all: surreal.

Rushed, of course.

2008-10-09T07:17:00.004-04:00

It seems lately that I remember to write a new post in passing. Well, not really. I happened to wake up early, threw a load of laundry in the machine, and vacuumed the family room. Now I'm sitting here, which might very well mean I'm just procrastinating what I really need to be doing, and that is tinkering with the finances. It is somewhat humorous to me that even though the ex and I haven't been together for 2 years, he still expects me to wave my magic wand and fix the money situation whenever he decides to do things on a whim. In this case, it's a major repair on his car, which he decided to take care of asap. No planning or consulting with me as to what bills need to be paid (like in our RENT). He just went off and decided to fix the car.

So this is when I have to look into his account, which I don't really like to do because its none of my business. I can't help but see one transaction after another: eating out here, a weekend getaway there. I don't have say in what he does since it's his paycheck. But obviously trying to survive in our current living situation requires some sacrifice and he has not given up his daily soy lattes.

Anyway. I got that one out of my system. Even if it's for the sake of reading this a year from now and getting a good giggle out of how ridiculous some people can be. I hoped to be more independent at this point, which unfortunately isn't the case... YET. Maybe in a year I will be there.

So a couple of weeks ago I decided to take the plunge and train for BodyPUMP. It was an amazing three days and I walked away with a wealth of knowledge. It wasn't just about doing biceps curls perfectly, but learning how to connect with people, which is something I've had challenges with my whole life. Last night I "shadowed" for the first time, which basically just means getting up in front of the class next to the actual instructor and following along. It was fun, and I was antsy to don the microphone even though I technically can't until November. But I feel prepared to take on this new endeavor.

Too bad it doesn't pay much. Heh.

I do have a wedding to shoot this weekend though. I'm flying up to Boston to shoot a small wedding, which will be over by 4 p.m. Easy-peasy.

And now to awaken the troops. Well, after I finish my coffee.

In 13 minutes or less...

2008-09-22T09:56:00.002-04:00

I have that much juice left on my laptop. I needed to find a quitting point so that I don't end up on the computer all day long, which is tempting to do on a cold, dreary day in Boston. But I need to hit the gym and finish up processing the photos from this wedding.

Yes, I'm in Boston. I flew up here with Shawn since he had to be here for work. My ex in-laws are staying at my house this week because they will be in charge of the kids during their visit. In other words, Nick will be around but on a very limited basis, just to put the kids to bed at night. I had to type up 5 pages of instructions, detailing everything from lunch box contents to driving directions to the Bruiser's school. Maybe I'm too type A of a mom, or maybe I just know how the grandparents are. It's a challenge for me even while pumped up with caffeine and endorphins. I'm not sure how these sedentary retirees will fare.

Anyway, they will be fine. Especially with the Princess there to tell them what to do. I just hope she doesn't succumb to their daily routine of sitting around and forgetting what time it is so that she can be late to everything. I am just a bit annoyed that the dad isn't stepping up to the plate now that he has this opportunity to spend some good quality time with each kid, which is a challenge to do when you're the only parent available.

But I will digress. It's the same old thing. The difference is... now it's not my concern. The kids are obviously more attached to me. But that's because I put them first. He does too... don't get me wrong. But he does it in his own convenient way.

This is my first stretch of free time in a while. Most of August and September has been a bit busy, with the dad either out of town for work (and pleasure) or sick with the sniffles. But I have to bury myself in this wedding and get it done... so I can get paid. (I know I don't rake in the salary like my ex so perhaps this is chump change to him... but that's beside the point, now isn't it?)

Anyway, I fear that I'm coming off as bitchy in this blog entry but I'm in a pretty good mood. The pool here is saline, a new alternative to chlorine. I'm curious to take a dip later on today, but this can only happen if I work up a sweat in the fitness room (a promise my made myself).

I have my BodyPump training on Friday so I guess I need to do some exercise before then. *sigh*

At the very least I have some time to think. How to lead a happy and productive life. First I need to reevaluate what I've done to contribute to the mess and just not do it any longer. :) It takes two to tango after all. I'd say the same for my marriage, though I don't think Nick has done much to improve himself. Just my observation.

Two minutes of juice left. I suppose I should log off now.

No news is good news. Right?

2008-09-15T00:26:00.002-04:00

To be honest, the past month has been sort of a whirlwind, and even moreso now that school is in full swing. I was able to enroll the Bruiser in preschool - took the last spot available! - so that has added to the back-to-school buzz. It's a good thing though. Both he and his sister love going to school, and the Baby is always wishing she could go with them.

The only clincher is this preschool isn't that close to home. I'd say it's a 20+ minute drive, but then I can't complain because it's almost impossible to get your kid into a preschool program here, unless you're willing to pay up the wazoo at one of hoyty toyty schools, which I wasn't about to do. But the school is very close to the gym, so that's where I have been going while waiting the 3 hours. I guess it's time well spent, but there is only so much you can do at the gym from 9:45 to 12:15. Really. Plus I get there too late to take the 9:30 class, so I chit chat or hop on a cardio machine, which I know will get old after a while.

But ah, who cares... it's still free time. Most especially since the Baby doesn't complain when I take her to Target and she leaves empty handed.

In a couple of weeks I'm going to Rock Hill, SC to train for BodyPump, which is a class offered at the gym. I'm not really nervous about it since it's a class I've gotten to know fairly well since I started taking it in January. And it has done WONDERS for me. It's one of the more popular classes offered, with attendance sometimes topping 50 people crammed into the studio. So we shall see how this goes. It will be good to be paid to work out for a change... might as well since I'm at the gym for so many hours a week. My membership will be free, along with an upgrade. And let's not forget... the outfits are totally cute.

The area manager seems to want me to train for a few other classes when I can. So could this be that my next career move will actually be as a fitness instructor?

Well, I'd be elated if exercise can be that much engrained in my life - to the point where I'd actually be a role model for others since I'll be donning a mic and standing center stage in front of people. But I am also realizing that my bones are starting to ache. I often wake up with a sore back, though I don't really know why. Another instructor told me that I don't allow enough time to recover. Recover?? From what? :) If I don't work out, I'm a major crab... so I suppose it's a matter of finding some sort of balance there. And stretch when I can.

Well, off to bed. I fear that I will return to this blog entry tomorrow morning and find that I was completely incoherent in my last few mutterings. I'll blame the Tylenol PM and too much Chinese food in my belly.

Something positive.

2008-08-19T08:15:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I decided to go attend a different gym because a couple of instructors at my usual gym were teaching there. I didn't think anything of it... in fact, it turned out to be a great plan because I was able to drop the kids off at their dad's place, which was just minutes away from this place.

Upon my arrival I saw R and K, and they greeted me so warmly. I realized then and there that I am part of this circle of friends now, and it was a great feeling. They have both been encouraging me to head down the same path, telling me I have such great flexibility and great form, not to mention I can really push the weights in the weight training class they both teach.

Last night, however, it was this BodyFlow class I was attending (which basically is a combination of tai chi, yoga, and pilates), which K has been encouraging me to train for. If I can just get over my fear of being up on the stage, clad in spandex, with a mic on. Basically I haven't figured out how these people can work out in front of other people and TALK at the same time. I'd be utterly flustered.

So this is why I love the gym so much. I see K there all the time because she's the group fitness manager. Not only are they all in awesome shape, which is inspiring to me, but they're a very nice bunch of people. So something positive, of course. I have yet to be scolded for being at the gym for as many hours as I have been each day... but then, who's keeping track but me? :)

Buh-bye.

2008-08-01T19:07:00.003-04:00

To flickr, that is. Love the site, met so many wonderful people. But it's time to rethink some things. It was getting too overwhelming for me to keep up. And when I can stomach starting that whole thing back up again, I need to think of a different game plan. I don't know what though. Doesn't it seem like any computer-related hobby takes up a lot of time?

Hehe.

2008-07-21T17:02:00.003-04:00

Okay. I will try to make this a more frequent part of my day. It will be good for me anyway, or at least I try to tell myself that.

Today I finally got my North Carolina driver's license. This was after making several trips to the DMV because I forgot one form of ID or another, or I didn't have any cash (since they don't accept out of state checks... which is a whole other issue in itself). Today I didn't have my proof of insurance (which required yet another drive home to find it), and I NEARLY failed the test. But at least now I have a license which has the best photo of me to date. I guess there is something to be said about the 110-degree heat giving someone an effervescent glow in photos.

Now I'm off to the gym, after doing a last minute whirlwind clean up of the house. The older two kids come home today, after being away for nearly 3 weeks, first in Chicago with their dad's relatives, and then on a road trip with their aunt to visit other relatives. I'll be glad to see them, but I'm overwhelmed thinking about our "summer routine", since the older two kids haven't been home since the Princess got out of school June 10 because we left for Florida the evening of her last day of school. Needless to say, the kids have been busy. I have been busy. But not necessarily busy while together. So this should be interesting.

But one more month left and it will be time to head back to school. The Princess will be in 2nd grade, and the Bruiser will start preschool.

And I must apologized for a somewhat disjoined blog post. It is so hot today and I really can't think straight. Now time to do more sweating at the gym, dressed in these new workout duds I picked up yesterday that actually makes me look a little bit like a superhero. I decided to slather on some of my daughter's lotion that she picked up at the Target dollar bins, only to find that it's full of GLITTER. So now I really look like I can leap tall buildings in a single bound.

Gosh. One month later.

2008-07-17T13:25:00.006-04:00

I have been pretty awful with keeping up with this blog. Oops.

The past few weeks have been a bit crazy. The Princess got out of school June 10 and that very day we left for Florida to visit my parents. My brother and sister were also there, so it was an extra special visit.

Only... we were ALL stricken with some sort of stomach bug that first week there. I usually seem immune to such things, but this time I was hit pretty hard. The only one who didn't get sick was the Princess, oddly enough.

During that time I was diligently working on two clients' photos as well as my website, and I think I pretty much exhausted ever bone in my body trying to get all of these things done. The remaining two weeks in Florida were spent relaxing, which most of you know I don't like to do even though I'm sure it was some much-needed rest.

Upon returning home, I wasn't exactly ready to jump back into the whole routine. Fortunately the kids went to Chicago with their dad to celebrate the 4th of July and his birthday. A week later the Baby returned with him, but the older two are driving back with their aunt, and should be arriving later this evening.

During my free time, I attempted to get some cleaning done around the house, as I was in a major purging mood. But instead the dual portal option for my website was added and I decided to do a completely different website for my wedding portfolio. I strongly feel that the marketing for weddings and portraits is completely different. And now I have a way to showcase more photos from the weddings I've photographed. I'm happy with it. But it took a long time to complete. Of course, now I feel like my original site (the one that features portraits) looks boring. Oh well.

I am back at the gym, though the first week was pure torture. Headaches, muscle aches, etc. etc. Taking three weeks off wasn't such a great idea. I did enjoy my diet of Cheetos and Diet Coke (along with mom's home cooking).

Well, that's all I've been up to. I can't believe the summer is half way over.

Anonymity

2008-06-16T12:17:00.002-04:00

Well, I figured out the way to disassociate this from my professional work is to not link the two in any way. So the link was deleted. :) It just seems like such a PAIN to have a blog that is invite-only, as though the information I type out here is exclusive only to those who bother to read it. I don't have anything to hide, nor am I hiding from anyone. It's just work stuff and personal stuff needs to be separate.

This reminds me of someone I once knew who liked to have an online presence but always made an effort to hide from people. I don't know the purpose of doing that, other than to make oneself feel wanted when people try to search for you. But it's rather silly to be online, then to make yourself invisible so that you're there but not. Why bother? And really, who cares?

In all seriousness, though, I owe this whole REDO to the client whose wedding I am photographing this coming August. I was feeling rather down about my options. Like, okay, I went to school to be a graphic designer, did that for a while, then decided to be a mom full time. Now that I have to start earning an income again, I felt completely out of the loop. The only things I know how to do really well are changing diapers, cooking meals... and photography. I can also redesign the back of cereal boxes in my head but I honestly did not enjoy my short years as a graphic designer, mostly because of the long hours and relative lack of creativity.

So along came A, who was looking for a wedding photographer. She decided she wanted engagement photos done as well. I'm quite pleased with the shots I produced, and while redoing my website, searching my archives for content, I realized how much I have improved since I made my half hearted attempt at this last year. The talent out there is quite intimidating... there are so so so many good people I'd be competing with. But who says I can't be at that level one day?

At the same time an instructor at the gym asked me to photograph her boys, and I am hoping that many more jobs can come from that one contact. I was also approached by the program director at the gym about teaching BodyFlow, which was totally out of the blue since I've only taken a handful of yoga classes in my whole entire life. If I decide to train for this, I know it will be an invaluable way to meet new contacts, and hopefully a means to help build a clientele with the photography. I'm at the gym at least 15 hours a week, so I might as well get paid for part of that.

So that's that. I need to do more research on search engines to ensure people don't run into this when looking for Me the Photographer. In the mean time, I'm staying put.

(and thank you for the emails!)

Under lock and key

2008-06-16T00:43:00.003-04:00

After some considerable thought, I have decided to make this blog private. It seems anyone can just Google my name and this blog would come up in some way or another. Since I need to start focusing on work and will be relying on people finding me through search engines, I'd much rather that they stumble upon my professional work rather than my personal mumbo jumbo.

I guess Blogger allows me to invite anyone to remain readers. Please send me an email at supermana at gmail dot com if you'd like to be on that list. I'll keep this message up for another week before locking things up.

Thanks. :)

Privacy

2008-05-30T12:26:00.005-04:00

Several months ago I decided to put restrictions on who could see my kids' photos on flickr. Through time I became somewhat lax with this, but I've decided I needed to be more diligent about it again. So that means that you will probably not be able to see these photos in the thumbnails up above unless you have a flickr account and I've given you permission to view these particular photos. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's best to be safe than sorry. Of course, there are some photos that go beyond just merely recording day-to-day happenings, such as this recent one of the Baby:

To me, anyway, the tones came out wonderfully, as did the catchlights in her eyes. And she really was deep in thought about something... I wonder what?

Anyway, I guess this is just a heads up to those of you who might look at the photos every so often, in case you wonder why I stopped posting photos of the kids. They're there, just under lock and key. :)

On a happy note, I have a wedding booked this August... someone who actually found me on flickr! I am meeting with her and her fiance next week and hoping to book an engagement session. Why anyone would want to get married in August is beyond me, but perhaps by then (and after a few trips to Florida) I will have re-acclimated to the heat and humidity.

As far as my future goes, I think it would be downright stupid to do anything other than photography. I have the passion (and the gear!) for it, so why not? So perhaps this latest client coming along is a sign that I need to get off my bum and start promoting myself, something which I never fully pursued.

Of course, now I have this aching desire to redesign my website, complete with a new logo and watermark. *sigh*

Repose.

2008-05-24T19:16:00.002-04:00

Right now the only thing I hear is the hum of the small fan in my laptop. The kids are away with their dad. Finally, some peace and quiet. Though last night the stillness was almost deafening, only broken by the sizzling sounds of garlic and onions on the stove, followed by tofu, yellow squash, broccoli, carrots. Finally contentment. There's nothing like being hungry in an empty house.

I rarely go to the gym on Friday, but last night I made an effort to be there so that I could attend the yoga class. I'm not the yoga type. I think I grow too antsy sitting still, for it's an unnatural state for a mom. But the class was wonderful. Relaxing and fulfilling. The instructor mentioned that she just had a baby 4 weeks prior and that he will be her only baby since she is already 37 years old. She didn't look the least bit post partum. Or 37 for that matter. And she credits yoga and water. Sounds easy enough for me.

Today I commited to a whole morning at the gym. This is something I never try to do because I would much rather sleep in. And if the kids are with me I'd still much rather sleep in and then sit around lazily sipping a cup of coffee. But I decided days ago this is what I was going to do, so there I was at the 8:45 a.m. step aerobics class, yawning, and yawning, and yawning. Followed by weight training, yawning between sets. Followed by yoga, which involved too many inhales and exhales to allow for any yawning. I felt such a sense of accomplishment, but now that the clock reads 7:23 p.m., I'm ready for bed.

But the night is young and I'm in the mood for sushi.

I forgot to mention, I did a bit of shopping last night, having broken my umpteenth pair of sunglasses. I found a new pair for $9.99. And a wonderful summer dress for $11.

So a weekend of exercise, naps, shopping... with sushi and a martini in the near future. I'd say this was a perfect weekend indeed.

Now back to vacuuming -- with the iPod fired up, of course.

And there you have the most relaxed blog entry I've ever written. Ever.

Staying positive.

2008-05-22T08:00:00.004-04:00

I'm trying to keep the tone of this blog upbeat and positive. Though I refuse to delete anything I write that might be negative (because then how "honest" is that as far as documenting my day-to-day), it's probably a good idea to spread some sunshine every so often.

Yesterday. It was actually a really good day. To be honest, it was the first good day in a while. There were the usual mishaps and hiccups but I just rolled with it all. I took the younger two with me to the gym, then hit Target, then made macaroni and cheese for lunch. So imagine the miles of smiles with those small but effective treats.

In the evening I decided to bite the bullet and take a dance class at the gym, which is completely out of my comfort zone. It's one thing to lift weights or do step aerobics or jump around in an athletic conditioning class - all set to music though what we do in those classes hardly counts as dancing. But last night was an all out hip-hop groovy show-some-attitude dance class. Thank goodness it was held in the room without wall to wall mirrors, otherwise I would have gotten too self conscious.

At that point - the late afternoon - I was starting to feel that bit of achy stress in my stomach, which tends to be the norm when dealing with certain people. But the dance class put me in a better mood. Which comes to show that cranking up the music at home and bouncing around to your heart's content can probably put a happy spin on anyone's day.

And a positive blog entry every so often helps too.

Just so I know.

2008-05-21T22:10:00.004-04:00

The kids are doing wonderfully. Sure they bicker and fight. The youngest has tantrums. But this is no different than other children. They're thriving. They're normal.

The Bruiser is going to be starting pre-K in the fall. I still have to find a school to enroll him in since there is no pre-kindergarten program at the school his older sister attends. There has always been this weird concern regarding his development, and it's no wonder, having to follow someone like his sister. She always seemed mature beyond her years, especially as a toddler. Yet time and time again, every pediatrician has told me that the Bruiser is totally normal. The behaviors he exhibited - delayed speech being the biggest concern - is typical of the second child, I was told, especially if the older sibling is talkative and is constantly answering for him. Such is the case with the Princess and the Bruiser.

Well, now I feel like I'm pleading my case. That I have to write all of this out in order to prove to whoever (whomever?) that I'm doing a good enough job with my son. I see how he is, the way he interacts with his sisters and with other children, and he is a totally normal kid.

He is interested in cars and superheroes. Loves the color black. He doesn't like to sit and draw or color, but would sit in a pile of Legos and build space ships, all perfectly symmetrical. He has proven himself to be the type of kid who won't answer questions on cue like his big sister would, even though he knows the answer.

He's a smart kid, and I'm not just saying this because I'm his mother. If I thought otherwise, I would have gone through extra measures to make sure he had everything he needed to catch up to other kids his age. Just because he isn't just like his older sibling doesn't mean he's stupid or slow. It's so important to recognize his differences - and with that his strengths.

I'm not going to let anyone tell me otherwise. Reason being, I had people telling me the same thing when the Princess was 3-4 years old. Oh, she needs to be enrolled in this or that. Blah blah blah. So I went with it, and I honestly don't think any of it made a huge difference other than giving her something fun to do that required less effort on my part.

Anyway, I feel like I am repeating myself. I just felt the need to document this here. I'm not concerned about my son because I know he's just fine. As are his sisters. Anyone else wouldn't know any better unless they spent more time with them.

It's probably a natural inclination for certain people to question everything about me, including my ability to raise my children. In this instance I can say with confidence that these people are wrong.

Where to begin.

2008-05-21T21:12:00.005-04:00

Well, I'm supposed to be jobhunting now. Actually I should have been doing this all along, given the particular path I chose to take. Not that I am just making excuses because I don't feel like getting off my ass, but I don't even know where to begin. I know I probably should have had this figured out long ago, just like most people have their lives mapped out properly.

I'll tell you one thing. If I could do it all again, I would have never left the workforce to be a full time parent. I know people will probably chastise me for saying this, and it's pointless anyway since the present is the way it is and there is nothing I can do to change whatever decisions I've made in the past. But at this phase in my life I don't see how being a sahm benefits anyone.

People have told me it is a big sacrifice. And it is, no doubt, even though there are some people who are quick to say that I've chosen the easier option by being a stay at home mom. Geez, if they only knew. Imagine having a full time job that you don't leave at the end of the day. One that you are tied to physically, mentally, and emotionally. And one that you can never quit, yet one that may leave you constantly second guessing yourself, especially in the early years. On the most frustrating of days, you have to do everything you can to hold it together. There are no siestas or lunch breaks, unless you can somehow swing simulataneous naptimes. And there are no sick days.

But now I have to switch gears. Or rather, stay on the same track but somehow eke out a little bit more time and energy to do something that will keep us financially afloat. I have a degree. Some work experience. So this should be a no brainer. Or so I'm told. Perhaps I just don't have enough faith in myself, for the last time I went job hunting, it became more of a full time struggle to just find something, because I moved to Chicago with no job, no money, and had to jump from one relative's house to another in order to have a roof over my head.

And now. More than ten years later, I am pretty much back to square one, but with more responsibilities to juggle. Well, I know what I will be telling my children when they head off to college. It is sad to say that they need to prepare themselves for the inevitable based on statistics. But aside from that, having financial independence is empowering, especially for a woman. And if that is what my children end up with when they are my age so that they never have to worry about how they will pay their bills and at the same time have the freedom to make their own decisions, then at least I know I've done something right.

I would hate to think that they will ever have to go through any of this bullshit.

Mom

2008-05-11T02:05:00.005-04:00

At this moment I'm in Florida, having enjoyed a week and a half sans kids. There was a time long ago when I would have scoffed at the idea of going on vacation without my kids but I am now realizing how important it is to have this time to think, relax, and have real life conversations with adults, completely uninterrupted. It's an odd feeling, not having my days revolve around my kids' days. But I'm ready to head back to the swing of things.

As with every time away (with or without kids), I always start off with the best of intentions. I'll eat well. Exercise every day. Wake with the sunrise and go to bed at a reasonable hour. Yeah right, she typed... as the clock strikes 2 a.m.

I'm a bit askew, physically and mentally.

But this was the first time in YEARS that I've been able to spend time with my parents. We went to Target. We went out to eat. We sat around and watched all the political shtuff on the tv. All amid peace and quiet.

Granted the time away started off waaaaay in Southern California, packing up an ABF trailer in preparation for the long haul cross country to Florida. Fortunately, in the 11th hour my parents decided to hire someone else to drive the stuff to its final destination... which of course meant some R&R with some flickr folks before my departure. :)

It just figures, however, that my mom won't stop telling me, "I look at you and all I can think about are your kids. Oh how I miss them!"

Okay, so I guess that means I won't be welcome back here unless I have at least one child with me. I've already been invited to spend the whole entire summer here. And I would probably do it if not for my undying love for the gym I go to back in NC. And who am I kidding, no amount of exercise can possibly balance out the foodfest that goes on whenever I'm here.

But we'll see. It's tempting.

A big purge

2008-05-08T18:04:00.003-04:00

Actually, I probably let go of this a long time ago, but after piecing together some things, I realized I should have listened to reason and let go in the beginning. A real friend is not supposed to make you feel like scum just because he or she doesn't agree with you. A real friend doesn't gossip about you to people you don't know. A real friend will be around through thick or thin, and will always take the high road when dealing with issues.

This person hasn't been a real friend for a long time. And I just came to realize that this person was going through pretty much the same exact issues I was facing nearly two years ago, yet she kept it all to herself, at times making me feel like dirt because of my decisions, causing me to second guess myself time and time again.

What I wonder is: if this person were a true friend, how could she keep all of her own issues to herself when I was always honest and open with her?

She was always that type who talked about people. Who would make herself invisible in IM so that she didn't have to be friendly to people who annoyed her. She seemed friendly enough when interacting, only to turn and roll her eyes in digust. Yet, she would continue these sorts of relationships with people, though I have no idea why. Doesn't it take more energy to be so negative and poisonous?

Perhaps I was the idiot here. For when she was friends with me, I never thought twice about her behavior. I couldn't understand why she had to tell me personal bits of information about people. About so-and-so's odd sex life, or so-and-so's vacectomy, or so-and-so's relationship woes. These are people I knew of but didn't speak to, so perhaps she thought it was harmless to gossip about them to me.

But who would have thought that I would be that person. The one who she hid from in IM. Or worst yet, the one she'd talk about to other people. And what did I ever do to deserve that sort of treatment? I never told her secrets to anyone. I always tried to be there as a friend, and when I couldn't it was because I had my own problems to deal with. A real friend would understand that. Or at least that's what I would do.

Most people don't behave with malicious intent. I'd like to believe that things just happen to them with every day life and they'll be back when they're ready. I never thought anyone I know would purposely avoid talking to me, or worst yet, talk about me behind my back.

But I guess there are some people out there who are just plain jaded. They are miserable and expect the world to revolve around them. Why? Perhaps they don't get the attention they need from their own immediate family. I can easily feel sorry for someone who must be that lonely. But I don't understand the bitchiness that emerges from this. I don't understand how someone can be cruel. And really, just plain rude.

The end result is a clear indication of who is wrong, in my opinion. The person who has no friends, noone to turn to in times of need, is the one who should be questioned.

I'd like to think I'm just a normal gal who went through a rough spot at one time. Despite this, I never treated people differently. I don't try to be someone I'm not. I doubt this person will ever admit she has hurt anyone. But sadly, that sort of poison is left for other people who can stomach it. Life is too short to waste one's time on such misery.

The Baby

2008-04-29T11:01:00.003-04:00

At a ripe old age of 2.5 years old, the Baby has already started to raid her big sister's closet. Although, she prefers to hone in on the lower right hand space of her armoir where the Princess keeps her pajamas. On a daily basis I find the Baby upstairs, undressing and trying on the pj's. Sometime she matches, though with the general color theme of the Princess' wardrobe being pink, it's fairly easy to pair up separates to jazz up the look.

Every day when we leave the house, the Baby HAS to have her sunglasses, which is a completely new thing to me since she was the one who always refused to wear any sort of accessory, be it a bib or a hat or even a sweater that didn't tickle her fancy just so. And then, of course, to round out the look, she has her Hello Kitty handbag, which only stays on her shoulder if she holds her arm up in the air while walking. Yes, we are quite a sight when we are out and about. Most days the sunglasses are worn upside down.

(Note to self: I NEED to get a photo of this!)

I can already tell that the Baby is going to be the athlete among the three. She is one tough cookie and doesn't put up with anyone's baloney. But I suppose with a sister like the Princess and a brother like the Bruiser, the Baby has to stand her ground.

Her weapon of choice is still her signature banshee scream, which still sends the Bruiser (who is twice her size) to tears.

Woah...

2008-04-29T10:19:00.002-04:00

Someone stop the clock! Has it really been nearly two months since I've blogged? If I simply say that nothing new has happened, at least nothing significant enough to blog about, then I'd be lying. The fact of the matter is, I've been too busy to sit down and put my thoughts together. And after a while it became too much of a struggle. It's so easy to fall out of practice, even with something that seems as simple as writing down one's thoughts.

Most nights I have been taking the kids with me to the gym. They love it there, though the Baby has taken a while to warm up to the place. Since their dad is out of town, they accompanied me last night and didn't seem to mind being there for 2 hours. I usually start to feel guilty but I have to remind myself that 2 hours is nothing when it's spent playing... and actually much better than sitting at home.

If my schedule cooperates and I am able to pull off back-to-back classes (BodyPump followed by BodyAttack), which I did yesterday, then Tuesday I pretty much feel like I've been hit by a truck. It's a good kind of exhaustion, however. Not nearly as awful as the lethargy that sets in when I don't exercise. To be honest, I love this so much that I wish I had more hours in the day to do more. Though today a good yoga class sounds pretty appealing.

Well, I shall stop here since this feels like that first awkward baby step when I'm attempting to do something for the first time. Has my brain attrophied so much that I can longer write? Sheesh!

Trivial blabber.

2008-03-04T11:46:00.005-05:00

I've had a difficult time trying to blog about things, even though some days the trivial blabber seems to come more naturally. Today certainly isn't one of those days but I thought I'd write a quick entry to ensure everyone that I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. As I've said a million times before, there just aren't enough hours in the day. Making time usually means something has to be sacrificed, like sleeping.

Everything is going well for the most part. It's already March, though the weather doesn't really change here all that drastically. It went from really hot to sort of cold. Now I suppose it's just a matter of time before it gets really hot again.

Today's a good day for a nap, which is one huge benefit of this job. Granted, I was up at 2:30 a.m. with the Baby, at which time I joined her in her little Disney princess tent and went in and out of consciousness while she "read" me books in the dark. I finally got up and left because obviously my presence was providing her too much entertainment even though I was completely zonked out most of the time.

The road to fitness is going well. I'm 4 pounds a way from my goal, so I should be there in a couple of weeks as long as I don't indulge in too much chocolate. I feel great, though today I'm dragging my feet because of a class I took at the gym last night. I was curious so I tried it and today I am slowly starting to feel each of my muscles become sore. I'd have to say that was the hardest thing I've done in a very long time and it's no wonder they only offer the class once a week. But you can bet I will be there again next Monday night, ready to be tortured yet again.

So I suppose that's all to report. Naptime is coming soon. Thank goodness.

Lack of something.

2008-02-22T14:07:00.002-05:00

The past two days I have had absolutely no energy. This shouldn't be the case, since exercise is supposed to make you feel more energetic. I did take a break yesterday because I felt like I was coming down with something, and I'm hoping to get to the gym this evening. But you would think that the time between one workout to the next, even if it's a one or two day lull, wouldn't leave me so lethargic.

I'm guessing that the one thing I do need to start doing is exercising in the morning. This is probably the most difficult change to make, but it's the one that tends to stick once I've made it part of my routine. It's just that waking up when the sun hasn't risen is so difficult to do. Then there is that night time greediness I tend to have, when the kids are in bed and I feel like I should stay up doing whatever I want just for the sake of being able to do it, without sticky little fingers or tantrums or whining to interfere.

So next week that will be the plan. That way it can actually be a real part of my day instead of something that I might be able to squeeze in depending on what everyone else is doing. And then maybe I'll have that bit of an endorphin buzz to last me through the day.

Because right now, this just isn't cutting it. I feel like I need to curl up in a ball and shut out the world so I can sleep for a few more hours (even though I got 7 hours of sleep last night, with the last hour being spent hitting the snooze button half a dozen times). But with the house in its usual disarray and kids climbing the walls like monkeys, those sorts of things simply aren't allowed.

The Bruiser, though he really isn't.

2008-02-15T07:56:00.004-05:00

I don't know how my son came to be called "The Bruiser". It could be because of his rough-and-tumble boyish ways, much different than his dainty older sister.

His toddlerhood was a complete blur to me because his younger sister was born when he wasn't quite 2 years old yet. This is something I started to feel sad about since the day I found out I was pregnant again, for I was already stretched pretty thin as a mom-of-two. How in the world was I going to find one-on-one time with him, when there was going to be a third baby... and he was still a baby himself?

Somehow we figured it out, though my mom was with us for almost two years, thankfully. Still, I was the "go to" parent always, even when other people were around, and I never felt like I was giving enough to each child. Still don't.

This could be why my younger two kids are so much more independent. I don't have to struggle with turning the tv off, or bribe them to eat different food. I feel like I can hover over them far less and they are perfectly fine doing whatever, whether it's doodling, or taking a bubble bath, or playing with Lego's.

The one thing I have to keep in mind is that boys are completely, totally different that girls. My oldest would do just about everything on cue: sing her ABCs, touch her nose, give hugs and kisses in exchange for chocolate. And most of the time the youngest would do the same.

But the Bruiser has always been different. Even now he might give you a kiss, but he'd turn his head the very last second so you always get his cheek. And if you ask him what colors his Legos are, he will tell you that red is blue, blue is yellow, yellow is black... all with a mischievous smile on his face. He knows his colors because he will specifically ask for the red and yellow pair of Power Ranger pjs when he can't find them in his dresser drawer. And of course, there is that odd obsession with coloring with the Black Crayon, after testing out the other crayons on paper. "No, this is blue, this is purple, this is green... where is the black one?"

The worst thing you can possibly do is compare one sibling to the next. I dare not say that one child is smarter than the other, for I really don't know that. I never saw the Princess put together space ships made of Lego's, yet the Bruiser does this all the time, each perfectly symmetrical, with his armada lined in a row ready for take off. Meanwhile, the Baby tends to the cat, making sure she has spoons in both of her bowls so she can eat (that is her way of cooking, she says).

Last night, after having a very long and tiring day, dealing with the three kids gone wild on chocolate and candy hearts, I was so relieved to finally bid them goodnight. The Bruiser was taking a while to settle down. I could hear his heavy feet running around his room. He was excited about our upcoming weekend it turns out, and probably even more excited about all the candy we have in our house.

As I stood up to leave after tucking him back into bed, he said, "Mommy, I love you." And I hesitated a moment to be sure I heard him correctly. And he really did, without me saying it first.

The passive aggressive trait.

2008-02-14T17:52:00.004-05:00

Yes, that is me, I've been told. Though I think the issue is that I was raised to respect and revere my elders, to never speak out or answer back, but at the same time to not put up with people's b.s. Perhaps this is the Asian-American fusion thing going on. You know, like sweet and sour chicken, or something.

So even though I'm a bit on the pissy side at the moment, I am going to write this post in order to add a sweet buffer to the previous post. Because really I am oozing with love on this Valentine's Day, complete with chocolate sprinkles and wishful dreams of bling from Tiffany's (for what girl doesn't dream of Tiffany's on Valentine's Day?). But my bubble was almost burst. This is to prove that it really wasn't.

Yesterday I took a BodyPump class at the gym, and my second time to take it so I was still a bit intimidated. When the class was over, not one but two instructors approached me and said I had perfect form. Me? Flabby mom of three? Perfect form???

Normally I hit the scale before I leave the gym, just to keep track of how I'm doing. But last night I felt no need to do this. I am a perfectionist, normally (though seeing my house today, one might doubt that). But most days I feel over the hill, especially when I'm surrounded by gym rats with rippling muscles.

It just comes to show how far a compliment can go. Tell someone they're pretty, or the tie they are wearing brings out their eyes. Or praise the scribbling art a child creates, even if it mars the living room table and turned her hands pink.

And now that I am ending a blog entry on a positive note, I can pick up the clutter in my house with a little bit more glee.

Bend at the knees, breathe in, breathe out.

Love letters.

2008-02-14T17:13:00.004-05:00

I would probably be the first person to say that Valentine's Day is overrated, though I'd be the first person to snatch up that box of chocolate and devour each and every sugary morsel. Well, actually, I'd think about doing that while opening the box, but the analytic-me will kick in and I'll plan out how I can fit the into my Weight Watchers daily points allowance.

As I was getting into the Valentine's Day spirit, making gift boxes for the Princess's classmates, reveling in the sheer amount of chocolate there is in this house at this moment as a result, and yes, calculating how many Hershey's kisses I might be able to eat after dinner, I received the most thoughtful of notes from a certain someone. And I felt the need to convey my appreciation for such thoughtfulness.

This person wrote how much they care about me and pray for me still, even though she has been mad at me and the situation (the situation being my marriage issues, since after all EVERYONE seems to be a part of it), but thank God for He has filled her heart with love and I suppose now she doesn't feel a strong urge to gouge my eyes out.

And this was my favorite part, which I will forever keep in mind, even in the event I make it big and get a job shooting Victoria's Secrets lingerie models (the naughty little things that they are): that I need to remember that God has given me special talents and "He desires good, not evil from me." I am assuming that last part was in quotes because it was taken verbatim from the Bible (me being the heathen that I am, I wouldn't know).

So how do I react to such jibberish? Do I laugh? Do I cry out in frustration? Do I use it to line the kitty litter box? I shall just keep my mouth shut and let this person continue believing that what dribbles out of her brain actually matters to me. Oh, and blog about it here because I'm just mean and cynical like that.

Might as well live up to my reputation.

flex

2008-02-13T10:45:00.007-05:00

There are three people in this world who matter to me the most, and I somehow always manage to make them smile when I enter the room, even on the days when I'm crabby and can barely muster up a smile myself. And this isn't just because I feed them and sing them lullabies at night. It's so uncomplicated and natural... the sort of love I can be boastful about, show off to the world because they are all mine.

There is noone who could possibly tell me otherwise. And I suppose that's when motherhood is empowering.

Without a pair.

2008-02-04T03:45:00.000-05:00

I am amazed at how many socks are missing their pairs. No matter how often I attempt to scour the house, they are nowhere to be found. And every time I do laundry that pile of pairless socks seems to grow.

The dryer must eat them. But you'd think at a quarter to 4 a.m. I'd be able to come up with a more clever theory than that.

I do still have plans to make these pairless socks into sockpuppets one day. Only there aren't enough hands to fill them. Then again, there is the most practical solution: the garbage can.

A relief, really.

2008-01-29T14:26:00.000-05:00

No exercise this morning. Just more sleep. And as I was just informed, no kickboxing at the gym this evening either.

Whew.

It looks like this evening will entail cheese omelettes all around (since they're easy to prepare) and early bedtimes. Then whatever I so choose... a bubble bath, a good book, some relaxation. Just as Dr. Jellyhead prescribed. :)

Wishful thinking anyway.

The fool am I.

2008-01-29T00:14:00.000-05:00

I had a long, tiring day. Though I'm not sure why I'm tired. I went to bed at a reasonable time. Woke up fairly early and did some exercise. Today wasn't any different than any other.

Yet, as I read books to my son after lunch, I could barely keep my eyes open. And despite the sleep and exercise, I was dragging my feet throughout the day.

So even as I post this, one might wonder why I'm still awake. Perhaps it's because I find too many things to distract me once the kids are in bed. It's not usually tv, but rather the computer, or the usual odds and ends that I can never get to during the day. The quest for missing socks. The removal of old toenail polish. A photo or two to tinker with.

At any rate, my mood has improved since the late evening when the older two kids went to bed (with emphasis on LATE because I wasn't watching the time). I was so looking forward to idle conversation, and even waited up for it. But it never came. Why didn't I just go to bed?

Now I'm just left wondering. Oh well. Stupid me.

At a loss.

2008-01-27T20:39:00.000-05:00

It was a good one, mostly because I realized on Saturday that I had lost 4 pounds in 11 days, and my body fat percentage had gone down by 2.5%. As far as my weightloss, I've realized that everything from how much water I drank the day before to what time of day it was in which I weighed myself can make a difference, as well as which shoes I'm wearing and which way the wind is blowing. So when I see the scale change, I always think "plus or minus whatever". But the number I am paying particular attention to is my body fat percentage. Whatever the case, less of everything is always good, and I am giddy to think that next week will show more change and so on and so forth. Finally, I feel motivated.

Although I hardly have any sort of routine down pat yet, mostly because my day goes around everyone else's schedules (particularly the kids') and I'm trying to get the feel of what I like to do for exercise. Plus I think it finally hit me that I don't have to run myself ragged in order to lose a few pounds. The forty minutes on the arc trainer one day, then perhaps an at-home workout on the laptop (because our dvd player is busted... again) on another day, then maybe a walk/jog outdoors with the kids in the stroller on the warmer days... all of that just might do the trick.

Coupled with a sensible diet, of course. Ugh... that D word.

The last time I lost weight I was fairly secretive about how I did it. Sure I went to the gym and everyone knew that, but I didn't tell most people that I was doing Weight Watchers. Perhaps I was still scarred by the annoying women I used to work with (and some Atkins dieters) constantly preaching about what they can and can't eat. Plus each time I was pregnant I had to follow a diabetic diet due to gestational diabetes and I really did not want people to make a fuss over me when they were preparing meals. The way I see it, even when I had the ob/gyne and endocrynologist tracking every morsel I put in my mouth, everything was okay to eat -- just all in moderation. I guess the issue most people have (including myself) is what exactly moderation means.

This is why I did Weight Watchers back then, and why I'm doing it now. Of course, while I was pregnant I had the benefit of having a dietician teach me how to eye portion sizes , so I can look at a chicken breast and know approximately how many ounces it weighs, or how many tablespoons of shredded cheese I just sprinkled on my fajita along with the dollup of guacamole and sour cream.

One thing's for certain: even now it is a complete shock to me how much I can eat, and it was a huge struggle that first week or so to get back into the mindset that I can't expect to see my waistline shrink if I continue to stuff my face with the kids' leftover mac and cheese and Teddy Grahams, no matter how many miles and minutes I log in at the gym.

The best thing about Weight Watchers, I'm finding, is that vegetables count for nothing. So I can have a huge plate of asparagus or fresh green beans sauteed in onions and garlic, with maybe a tiny drop of sesame seed oil for flavor... next to a 4-5 oz. steak, or chicken breast, or fish fillet... and most days there is room for a bit of dessert. :)

Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself, though I can't imagine quitting now. The personal trainer told me that if I do what she says, I should be at my goal by March 4, and that isn't too far away. And maybe, just maybe, I can finally, FINALLY break out all those skinny clothes from my closet, all of which have been gathering dust for nearly 5 years. It will be as though I just went on a shopping spree... or better yet, like I've been reunited with long lost friends.

The Apple of my eye.

2008-01-25T13:05:00.000-05:00

While driving the Princess to school this morning, I happened to notice that the car in front of me had the Apple logo stuck on the back window. I remember years ago when I bought my first real Mac - a Centris 650 - from the college bookstore. And I remember the Apple sticker that came in the box, though back then it was much more colorful. I remember saving this sticker, perhaps waiting for a suitable place to afix it, though I don't think I ever actually did anything with it.

Then I started to wonder why my new MacBook Pro didn't come with a sticker. Neither did my 2GB iPod, nor did my 4GB iPod... not even my 80GB iPod for that matter.

While wondering where I could get me one of these nifty stickers to stick on my car, the Baby suddenly blurted out:

"Look, Mommy! A CAR-puter!"

Muay Thai, Mai Tai. Whatever.

2008-01-24T15:10:00.000-05:00

The BodyCombat class on Tuesday night went really well. The instructor was uber-buff, and was very well versed with various forms of martial arts. Not that I know either way... just because she mentions Muay Thai, doesn't necessarily mean she knows it. But seeing how she's several inches taller than me with arms that look like she can probably kick anyone's ass in a dark alley, I'll take her word for it.

So it looks like those gruelling months of doing Taebo actually paid off. Not that I can even pass Billy Banks off as a real martial arts expert, but I at least knew the difference between a jab and an uppercut, and my balance was still somewhat okay. At the very least I didn't make a complete fool of myself, and I might actually try to show up on a regular basis every Tuesday night.

I was initially a little disappointed that this class was only taught once a week. But today is Thursday and my upper body is still killing me. So are the backs of my legs but that could be because of the other two days I exercised since then. This is good... it means that something is being worked even though it appears to be muscles that I didn't know were ever used for anything.

So I will make this promise to myself, one that I always make whenever I take a hiatus from exercise: to never allow myself to get this out of shape ever again. The period of reconditioning, or whatever the heck you want to call this, is a long one. Or maybe it just appears that way when I'm having to limp to get from point A to point B.

It even hurts to sneeze.

In the mean time, pass me more ibuprofen. And a mai tai now that you mention it.

The longest week of my life.

2008-01-22T14:29:00.000-05:00

Okay, so it's been one week since I've decided to focus more on my health. I've been attempting to do this for the past two years. And I suppose I was doing okay, with a few slips here and there. But let's face it, the last time I attempted to seriously lose weight, I was still nursing the Baby. I had that 500 calorie buffer to rely on, and believe me I took advantage of it. Now I just have to get it into my head that I can't stuff my face and expect to see the scale go down. But I can't help it. I love food too much.

This morning, for instance, I made chocolate chip pancakes for the kids. I used whole wheat flour, wheat germ and light soy milk to add a bit of healthiness. But then I realized there was some leftover bacon in the fridge (because God only knows what made me cook the whole entire pound on Sunday) and that about did it for me. I only had 1/2 a slice, but that arome has stained my house and the inside of my nostrils and all day long I've been craving a burger, a steak, a leg of lamb. Anything juicy and meaty.

Gah!

I think I did pretty well this week, however. I've relied heavily on food with high fiber and high protein, I've watched my portion sizes, I've listened to my stomach growl in the late night hours of surfing the web. The only thing lacking is a regular exercise routine, which I am still trying to figure out. So it was no wonder that the scale told me I was only down .5 pound, the damnable thing! Better than .5 up, I think? Right?

I need to hang onto that measely little half pound lost and celebrate the accomplishment, regardless of how small and insignificant it feels to me, and hopefully say goodbye to it forever. In the mean time, I need to find myself a new pair of running shoes, as the neat looking black and pink Nike runners I have did quite a number on my right heel when I attempted to do a run on the treadmill last week. And I have to get used to dragging my butt out of bed before the kids (and mostly everyone else) are awake so I can implement a real exercise routine and really start to see those numbers going down.

Tonight? BodyCombat. This should be interesting. :) I will try not to whine too much about my aching muscles the next time I blog.

Teehee.

2008-01-19T12:11:00.000-05:00

I'm in a great mood right now. So why not blog it?

True I need to stop worrying what others think. Perhaps this is a problem I've had because I've let others shape who I am as a person. For a while I was his wife, then their mom... and those roles will be with me forever. But for some odd reason I've never been comfortable being anything else...

Until now.

I need to start viewing life as one big adventure, and not focus so much on the minor speedbumps. True there will always be at least one kid misbehaving at Target, and another having a potty accident, and of course someone is always going to have an issue with having to eat their vegetables, and maybe one day the Baby will learn that she doesn't have to have a tantrum when I take 30 seconds longer to fill her sippy cup.

One day it will all be funny. Sort of like the way I think of the Princess as an infant and the nutty things I once did to satiate her. Since Day One she was a diva, and I was forever fretful, fumbling with breastfeeding and diaper changing and all the things that seem second nature to me now. I still remember the first few minutes at home with her and freaking out because I had no idea what to do. It's no wonder she was the baby raised by the book (and later by the Internet).

At least now I'm slowly but surely figuring her out: no syrup on her pancakes, no cheese on her pasta, no crust on her sandwiches, hates nuts except for maybe cashews. BUT she likes garlic bread, bread slathered with butter, cheese pizza, and Gramma A's gravy and pasta, and she will eat some of her vegetables if she can have chocolate milk. The younger two are thankfully less picky - for now. But my hope is that they grow to have more of my eating habits, which pretty much means they will eat everything under the sun.

So what does 2008 entail? The Bruiser starts kindergarten next fall. And I need to start making some changes as far as my career. I think I should probably try to take a class or two and figure out where my mojo is. But for now I'm going to keep going to the gym, lose those last 15 pounds (which means my wardrobe will expand by, like, tenfold seeing that I dumped all my fat clothes 5 years ago and all that is left are the tiny little things), and just focus on being happy.

Happy and guilt free about being happy... if that makes any sense.

Disclosure.

2008-01-18T22:54:00.000-05:00

The bad thing about blogging is that people who don't know me or don't keep in touch with me assume this to be an accurate account of what's up in my life. True I don't make up things for the sake of filling up blog space, nor do I try to make my life seem something that it isn't. But I don't type out my thoughts enough to offer a very well rounded view of my life. Yet, people seem to think they've got me all figured out based on my random ramblings.

Sadly, I only seem to blog lately when I need to get something off my chest, and a lot of times it doesn't come off as very happy or positive. This is when I realize I need to blog more, so that the days that are great (which are often... really!) overshadow those that aren't so great. Not that I am overly concerned about what people think of me. I'd just like them to walk away with a better taste in their mouth that isn't acidic.

So I have a few options here. Blog more, as I mentioned. Or not blog at all, but I sort of like it here. Or just do whatever and not care what people think.

Then again: it doesn't matter. This is just a blog.

But I do feel the need to clarify that I am happy most days. People have good days and bad days. I certainly am no exception. If I am happy, it's not because I'm in denial, and I'm sick and tired of people assuming that is the case. And if I'm sad, it's not because I've suddenly had some sort of epiphany and I've decided to take responsibility for all my past wrongdoings (hmm, maybe because I've already done that, time and time again, but maybe - just maybe! - I didn't feel the need to blog about it here).

I took a break from this blog for a while, so there was that time period in which I didn't share much of anything with anyone except for my family and maybe one or two close friends. During that time I did keep another blog (which some people know about). But at any rate, I don't know how anyone could assume what I've been thinking or doing, whether it was related to my marriage woes or the kids or anything in my life. Yet, they seem to have me all figured out.

I think there are probably two people on this earth who truly know me... but this is only because I trust them. I should probably just focus on them, the people who matter to me most, rather than some random shmucks who think they know it all.

Okay, done ranting. On with our regularly scheduled program.

And crotchety even.

2008-01-17T08:06:00.000-05:00

It's official. I'm old.

I've already faced the challenges of remedying (is that even a word?) the various changes I see in the mirror, from wrinkles to thinning (grey) hair. Now the personal trainer assessment at the gym has indicated that I have high blood pressure. Maybe this is temporary, for I know there are a few factors that can cause fluctuations. But never in my life has my blood pressure gone over 110/70. If anything it's always gone down. At least as far as I'm aware.

I was also told that I need to lose about 15 pounds, otherwise my chances of getting diabetes and cancer are significantly higher. Basically, if I don't get off my ass, I'm going to die.

Well, it's not like I've been handed a life expectancy of X amount of months or years, and to a certain extent I don't have that much control over when I'm going to keel over. But it's rather depressing to come to this realization. I can no longer pull all nighters. I can no longer eat whatever I want. I can no longer sit on my ass.

Not that that is what I do anyway. In fact, I'm almost always on my feet, to the point where they actually hurt at the end of the day. Now I actually have to do beyond what I already do, and that part is annoying. So running up and down the stairs 50 times a day makes no difference, neither does balancing a toddler on my hip while lugging a basket full of folded laundry throughout the house. Or maybe it does help, and I'm just half way to where where I need to be?

At any rate, the spring chicken has flown the coop.

Perception

2008-01-15T01:29:00.000-05:00

I spent the weekend with a person I never thought I could ever grow to like. Not that I disliked her, I'd say I was more neutral with a "take it or leave it" sort of attitude. We simply didn't have a single thing in common. She's a career woman. I'm a housewife. She's blunt. I'm demure.

I guess you might even say we're oil and vinegar.

We did have one thing in common: we both like to run, though she has been far more consistent with it through the years. But it just figures that the one form of exercise we like is actually quite solitary.

But I had a great weekend with her. We went out for drinks Friday night. Had a nice dinner. Chitchatted till 1:30 a.m., at which time I discovered that she just bought herself a Macbook, which automatically elevated her coolness level by tenfold. Saturday we hung out in Chapel Hill, watched part of the Packer's game in a smoky college bar, then retreated home because I was feeling under the weather.

This just comes to show that your perception of a person can completely change once you have a chance to get to know him or her a little better. I got to know her over the past several years through her ex-husband, who is my husband's best friend. I hear stories, form my opinions, and I'm embarrassed to say that oftentimes I passed judgement without truly knowing everything that went on through the years. As it turns out, my weekend guest was great company. She was a great listener, asked many questions, and not for the sake of being nosy or gossipy, but so she could understand where I was coming from a little better.

Perhaps this is what made the visit more worthwhile. Here was someone who offered to come visit me out of the blue. And without hesitation I took her up on her offer, knowing that it would be nice to have a female friend to hang out with. And for once I was able to just talk about everything, without any concern of being judged or criticized, yet at the same time I had a strong sense that she knew where I was coming from.

Refreshing indeed. I almost think the weekend ended too soon.