Patience! Patience! Patience!

Patience. This word is the bane of my existence. “You must practice patience.” “You should be more patient.” “Patience is a virtue.” Well, anyone who knows me knows that I, without a doubt, lack this virtue. I’m sure I lack others as well, but this is the biggie that affects my life on a daily basis. I’ve never had patience. I’ve always been about the “now”, about the instant gratification, about the - let’s just get it done. This theme of patience has come up a lot recently, so instead of keeping my thoughts about it inside and bottled up, I figured I would just spill it all right here. For all of you – all, maybe, 5 of you – to see. The key areas where this is glaringly pointed for me are – parenting, work and for lack of a better term, my health journey. Ew, I just said “health journey”. And I just said “ew”.

Parenting is an obvious one, right? I mean kids try your patience on the daily. And on the weekends, it’s likely hourly. Either you’re telling them to do something and have to say it at least 10 times before it gets done or they’ve simply done something so ridiculous that you can’t help but just be frustrated and ready to lose it. My son gets so easily distracted that the idea I should have patience around him is absurd. “Male child- go upstairs, get changed and make your bed.” This seems like a simple set of tasks, one would think. However, when you wonder where the kid is 15 minutes later and have no choice but to go check on him – he has one pant leg on and is literally rolling around on the floor with a stuffed animal. Um, hello! How is one supposed to be patient around this nonsense? “Female child – please go clean your room.” Simple. Five minutes later she’s done. Um, really? No way. So I go upstairs to check – blankets on the floor, piles of crap under her desk, things spilling out of her closet. Apparently you need to create an actual diagram of what “clean” looks like because just saying “clean your room” means different things to different people. Wonderful. My husband and I joke that we shouldn’t have had kids because we have zero patience. Well, it’s a little late for that now. Hindsight, as they say.

Work, work, work. As much as things evolve they always stay the same. This is where I am right now with work. I’m climbing the walls for a change, and yet here I sit. In the same spot. Is this for lack of trying hard enough? Maybe. Is it for lack of opportunity? Possibly. But ultimately when you really feel like you are reaching out for a change and nothing comes, how can it not be frustrating? And yes, I realize in my logical, adult brain that things don’t happen instantly and I am supposed to be patient, but as I’ve said before – I suck at practicing this. So what does one do? I vent. I stew. I vent some more. (Thank you to my wonderful friends that listen to my venting and stewing.) Naturally. This is me. I’m not perfect, I never purported to be perfect. I’m human. And this human lacks patience. Patience can bite my ass.

My health journey. Again, ew. But whatever you want to call it – fitness, nutrition, wellness, an overall healthy lifestyle. All of these things I have struggled with forever. But for the last few months, in this space, I have been doing the most “patience practicing” I’ve ever done in my life. I’m working with a nutrition coach who tells me on a weekly basis that this process takes patience. And I really do love working with her so I kindly remind her that this is extremely difficult for me to do, and because she’s an empath, she hasn’t fired me as a client – yet. I realized that the rollercoaster I have been on for my whole life has ultimately really damaged my metabolism. Oh, so you mean eating 1,200 – 1,300 calories during the week and then adding another thousand calories on the weekend WON’T help me reach my goals? Shut up. More on that another time. Ultimately, she is helping me learn to feed myself properly and is teaching me strategies and for once I am focusing on the steps to get to my goal as opposed to just the goal itself. This has been going on for almost three months, with basically no “visual” physical change. Never have I been so focused on something that has yielded such little outward, noticeable change. And it kind of feels good. It’s also really hard for me. And sometimes I don’t want to keep it up, I want the change now, one way or another. Sometimes I can’t be patient, sometimes I take two steps back. But I am trying to learn to go easy on myself. To be, dare I say, patient with myself.

And as an aside, I find it funny that people make assumptions that one has patience. For instance, when you’re on a plane and the pilot says you’re number 20 for take-off or that the flight time has been delayed. They always end this delivery of oh so fun news with – “Thank you for your patience.” I find it odd that this assumption is made. I’m actually a captive on this plane. I do not have patience, I simply do not have a choice. I can sit and calmly wait or I can get arrested. But thank you for assuming I’m a patient person.

What does this all mean? I don’t know. It means I hate the word patience! It also means I realize I need to have at least some of it if I want to reduce stress levels and live a bit more of a relaxed life. I try to better myself where I can. The patience I have been using in my path to wellness sometimes bleeds into other parts of my life, but it is really difficult. And it’s not all that fun at times. I’m 43 years old and I’m still learning things about myself so I guess that’s a good thing. There is always room for growth right? I hope no one expects a miracle though. I hear those take patience as well.

What is YOUR patience level like??

 

Thanks for reading!

Peace. Love. And sanity.

 

What have you been up to? Oh, not much. Just doing this sometimes unrecognizable version of me.

So I’ve been “blog silent” for a bit. I like to equate that to me not having much to complain about. Just kidding. There is always something to bitch about. But in all seriousness, I’ve been busy with work and home and apparently doing random races that are so unlike me. I’ve done a 5k run, a Warrior Dash and a Spartan Sprint in the last few months. Sometimes I look in the mirror and ask – “Who are you?” When did you start to be this person that likes to lift weights, run around and carry buckets of rocks up a mountain? Ha, yeah, that last part, I am so not in tune with that last part.

Now don’t get me wrong, doing the Spartan, or more importantly finishing the Spartan, definitely gave me a feeling of accomplishment. But that shit wasn’t graceful by any means. If you saw my face ¾ of the way through, you probably would have wanted to scoop me up and drive me off the course. When I approached the last hill, I almost cried. Like, literally. I looked up – way, way up that hill – and I thought that there is no way in hell I am getting up that hill. But I finished the race, so somehow I got up that hill. I think it had a lot to do with my thought process as far as asking myself – What happens if I stop? How in the world do I get out of here? Does someone throw me in a golf cart and drive me to safety? Do I have to do the walk of shame via a short cut to behind the finish line? Ok, it wasn’t all me and my ridiculous thought process. It was also my teammates, husband included, telling me I would finish. Encouraging me every step of the way. The best part of the race was the vibe that “we are all in this together”. Of course when my husband kept saying – “ok, let’s make up some time” at certain points on the course - I wanted to punch him in the face. But I didn’t. And we are still together to this day. Amazing.

I will not do another Spartan race. I checked a box. I did something I thought I couldn’t. And I want to keep doing things I think I can’t, but I am done with the Spartan genre. I will do another Warrior Dash and probably another 5k because they gave me a sense of accomplishment and I didn’t feel like crying while I was doing them. I guess that’s high on the list of why I will, or more importantly why I will not, do something.

So what’s up next? Well I’m not all that good at multi-tasking. I can only do a few things at a time, not 700, like some extremely impressive moms out there. So working and keeping my kids alive are my first priorities. And with the way they test my patience sometimes, that's basically a feat in itself. And then it’s focusing on me and discovering more and more that I want to continue to be strong, to get stronger. For Christmas, as a gift to myself, I want to do a pull-up. I’ve been saying that I want to hit this goal for a year. But now it’s no joke. And it’s out there. I’m telling all of you. So now I have to do it. Besides, we just bought a new car so it’s really all I can afford to ask for. I also want to get to 24% body fat. Getting there, but not there yet. And when I get there I will set a new goal. What I’ve realized is that I am enjoying the process of getting to these goals. It’s not easy. This is hard work. When the hummus and pretzel chips are calling me from the kitchen as I’m working from home, I have to tell myself to focus on my goals. When I’m eating cold pork tenderloin and mini peppers while my kids shove handfuls of popcorn in their cute little faces at the movies, I have to remind myself of my goals. And when I really just want to sleep in and skip the gym because I slept like shit the night before, I have to remind myself of my goals. Now don't get me wrong, I'm only human, and sometimes the hummus and pretzels win! But I don't call the day a wash and start up with the peanut butter cups. I call it a misstep and make a better choice at the next meal.

In all reality, whatever goal you set for yourself is a challenge. Challenges in themselves are difficult. Big or small. Isn’t that why they’re called challenges? I think they make us feel just a little bit more alive. A little bit more “in the game”. And right now I’m full on digging this game.

I hope you’re enjoying your game. And if you’re not, set a goal. Get in it. High five yourself as you work toward that goal. You deserve it.

Now go kick ass and take names. And thanks for visiting.

Peace. Love. And sanity.

Strong is the new sexy: Changing the narrative

I never wanted to lift weights. I thought nope, it's a waste of time. If I want to get "skinny" I need to do cardio for 45 minutes and eat 1200 calories or less. That'll do it! Clearly that did not "do it". Not only is it incredibly boring, but when you're only eating 1200 calories you are always hungry! Or in all reality, hangry (don't ask, just google it). But this was what I was "taught". This is what girls do. Until about a year ago.

Now here I am, in the best shape of my life and only getting better. And I'm finally "getting" it. The myths that have been perpetuated as truths for most of my life have finally been broken by my own results and the results of so many others. But what will the "fitness industry" do if women stop believing their crap and stop buying their ab rockers, tread climbers, and the other shit they tout in their douche-baggy infomercials? What if women finally start listening to those people who have looked at the science, who have figured out how to shape bodies and change perceptions to provide REAL results? When you watch the Today show and you hear a woman talk about "fat loss" as opposed to "weight loss" for probably the first time ever, you smile and you realize that maybe, just maybe, the masses are finally catching on. And maybe they'll also realize that the scale is kind of evil and BMI is an asshole.

I was fortunate enough to attend a fitness workshop this weekend, given by the amazingly strong Artemis Scantalides. That was the icing on this proverbial cake (mmmm, cake). What?? I was at a fitness workshop? Who am I? Anyway, this "I am not afraid to lift" workshop, continued to blast holes through the nonsense we've been fed by the fitness industry (and in many cases our doctors) for too many years to count. And this woman is proof that strong is the new sexy. Some of the things she was able to do I could only liken to party tricks. How did she do some of these things with her body?? Well, she worked her butt off. Oh, and she is a bad ass. And she was teaching us how to be bad asses. And she was encouraging us to become the masters of our domain. And it was awesome. It was empowering. And I couldn't wait to get into the gym the next day to lift more weights. (Ok, I'm stretching the truth a teeny bit there. I was sore as hell but I still went in and got it done!)

Now I'm not putting down my marathoning friends, my endurance savages. You go ahead and get 'er done. I think it's amazing what you are able to push your mind and body to do. But that's not me. So if I can't do that, does that mean I won't be able to meet my own goals? Nope. When I walked into the gym a year ago I was amazed by what I saw some of these women doing. I wanted to be them. They were swinging, pushing, pulling, lifting, grunting, sweating and kicking some major ass. And now I am one of them. And every time I lift a heavier weight or learn a new move I feel accomplished. I feel like I am joining the ranks of the strong. And I am thankful for my trainers who have taught me that it's ok to lift heavy things, it's ok to eat actual food (and lots of it) and that it's good to build muscle! 


And I also see it in the many posts on my social media feeds. Whether it's Facebook or Instagram, seeing people at the gym, posing with their gym buddies, posting videos of their accomplishments. It's all motivation for me. I don't care what other people say, I applaud your "check-ins", your food posts, your PR details. Keep 'em coming! We are watching and we are proud of you!

 So in the land of lady beasts and loud leggings I have found inspiration. I have found a new way to approach my health. I have a found a group of people who support each other's accomplishments and who push you to take the next step to get better and to reach your goals.

So go ahead - lift like a girl. I dare you.


Peace. Love. And sanity. And strength!

“What’s for dinner?” – And other cringeworthy questions

I think I live my life in lists. I think most of us do. It seems to be the biggest part of “adulting”. Lists for work. Lists for home. Lists for the food store. Lists for chores. Lists so you don’t forget to do something because if you don’t write it down you will totally forget. If I didn’t write down the five things I needed from the food store, I would without a doubt, leave without one of those things. Now my husband, if his list has one thing on it and he doesn’t write it down, he’s simply walked into the store for no reason because he can’t remember shit. Love him though!

So in the spirit of lists, let’s continue that theme. This time around let’s list out some of the most cringeworthy questions heard from kids on a daily basis. Some of these may not affect you, but for me, they are like nails on a chalkboard. And if NONE of these resonate with you then either you’ve hit the patience jackpot, the kid jackpot, or you’re a mannequin.

1.  Are we taking a bath tonight? – So this one may sound silly, but essentially since birth my kids have not gotten baths on Tuesdays or Thursdays. Of course there are exceptions this rule, but we don’t get home until later on those days and unless they’re completely disgusting (i.e. in the summer when they are complete dirt burglars), we forego the bath. Now regardless of this fact, they continue to ask me this question EVERY Tuesday and Thursday. Seriously kids? I find that kids work best within a routine-oriented environment, but apparently this doesn’t have any effect when it comes to asking about said routines. Annoying.
2. Is this enough to eat? – If you have escaped this one, then consider yourself extremely lucky. But I think this one is the first time kids start to flex their muscles in the art of negotiation. And you, no pun intended, feed into it every time. You’re negotiating with this tiny person about how many bites, how many slices of cucumber, how many pieces of chicken they need to eat in order to satisfy the “I’ve eaten enough for dinner rule.” And in my house once you’ve satisfied that rule, you’ve “earned” your treat. How ridiculous is this? It’s completely ridiculous. And I do it anyway. Some nights I’ve had enough and end up yelling some total mom thing like, “If you ask me that one more time!!” So awful. Oh and I should probably add that while still chewing his last bite, the male child always asks, “Can I have my treat now?” Dude! Can you finish chewing first? Oh good, I finally get MY question in.
3. Is it time to go to “insert any place” yet? – See you want to tell your kids when you’re going somewhere fun, and you do it, but you also know that you shouldn’t. But you do it anyway. And then you get asked constantly, up until the minute you leave, when you’re leaving. Is it time to go to Grandpa’s yet? Is it time to go to Grandma’s yet? Is it time to go to the waterpark yet? Is it time to go to breakfast yet? And then you’re doing the 8 hour, 6 hour, 4 hour, 2 hour, 30 minute countdown. And you want to scream! But it’s your own damn fault. And you never learn. Shame on you. You did this to yourself!
4. What’s for dinner? – This one legit makes my skin crawl at times. Sometimes it makes me want to cry. I so hate this question with a passion. Can’t you tell? And this happens every damn day. Without fail. Pretty much as soon as we are in the car. In some cases I’ve literally been in the car for two hours driving after having been up since 5:00 and these two can’t wait to ask me what I’m making for dinner. And I can almost guarantee they won’t like some part of it. And that’s probably why it gets to me. If they were easy, if they ate whatever I put in front of them, then I would be fine with it. But no, I have to put together, albeit a very simple meal, something I think they will eat. And really, I never know from one day to the next or from one week to the next what these little monsters are going to still be eating. For example, last week my 6 year old liked mac and cheese, but this week, as I learned last night, apparently she does not. WHO DOESN’T LIKE MAC AND CHEESE? I don’t know where she came from. 

I love my precious little peanuts, but sometimes I also want to strangle them. But I don’t. Because it’s illegal. I know kids have a repetitive nature. I know I’m going to answer these questions, and many others, over and over and over again. But it will always annoy me. I did not hit the patience jackpot. I am my father’s daughter. Ask anyone. (Love you Dad!) So while I know these things shouldn’t get to me, they will continue to, as things get to all of us. We all have different levels of nutty. Different levels of “I’ve had enough”, because we are human. We are parents. We are caregivers. We are out there fighting the good fight. Trying to raise these tiny people to be good members of society. However, this absolutely does not mean they don’t sometimes annoy the shit out of us on a daily basis. And this is why they’re cute. So at least after they make you crazy, you can look at them and smile and still have them melt a little piece of your heart. Even when they ask just one more time – “Are we there yet?”

Peace. Love. And sanity.

 

Mommy Wars: This shouldn’t be a thing

As women and as mothers, we should support one another. This goes without saying. Doesn’t it? Well apparently not. Are we just bored? Or are many of us just a bunch of judgy DBs that only feel happy when we are making others feel shitty? I really hope it’s not the latter. I do think that there is a combination of things spurring this behavior. From boredom, to social media to some people just being assholes, we’ve created a crappy society where mothers attack other mothers, and for some reason they feel justified to do so.

I really thought that a lot of this was made up social media nonsense, until through a collection of anecdotal evidence, it turns out this actually happens. In real life! To people’s faces! And of course it most definitely happens behind our backs. But some of these “wars” that pit hard-working mothers against one another, are completely laughable. Some of them must be created through social media feeling the need to feed this fire and have something to talk (read: fight) about. So let’s go over some of this nonsense:

1. Breastfeeding: This one is so long standing that maybe it’s not worth mentioning. But I will anyway. It’s just amazing to me that we are still judging the crap out of each other around this topic. It’s 2016, and we worry about the government trying to dictate what is right for us, for our bodies, but apparently it’s ok as women for us to tell each other what to do with our bodies? News flash, no it’s not.
2. How I birthed my child: This one is completely ridiculous. And one that makes me think that we are just bored or that social media gurus are sitting around trying to come up with new conflicts we can fight about. If you’re telling me that having my body cut open to deliver my children makes me less of a mom then pushing them out of my hoo-ha, then you are just a DB. Plain and simple. Hello, childbirth is hard no matter what. Don’t we know this already??
3. Getting a babysitter: Since when is getting a babysitter for your kids an issue? Do we not need time away from our precious little peanuts to maintain our sanity? When I was little my parents went out every Saturday night and look, I’m ok! Well, mostly, but I don’t think that’s related to their once a week night out. I would encourage parents to take a break. Your children will not fall apart. They will not be scarred for life. And you’ll get a chance to exhale. This seems like common sense to me.
4. Clean house versus a messy house: So this is a new one. It looks like the “argument” is this, per social media, if your house is messy then your kids are making memories and having a childhood they won’t be able to stop gushing about when they’re adults. But if your house is clean, your kids are miserable and will be in therapy as adults complaining about how unhappy they were growing up. Dumb. Times a million and a half. We are all screwing up our kids one way or another. And I guess my kids are somewhere in between happy and miserable according to this argument. Go me.
5. Sending kids to school sick: I’ve read about and heard about this one over and over. Someone thinks that if they go pick up their kid and another kid is coughing or sneezing that they are immediately sick, contagious, carrying bird flu and their parents are absolutely horrible for sending their kid to school to “infect” other children. Or, if their kid gets sick they are quick to blame some “horrible” parent. And now their perfect little sweetie pie is sick as a result. Really people? Sure, sometimes people send their kids to school when they shouldn’t. But to demonize parents, in general, when your kid gets sick makes zero sense. Kids get sick. And listen, if my kid doesn’t have a fever but has the sniffles or a little cough, then they are going to school. If every parent kept their kids home for every sniffle and cough, then these kids would be missing out on a lot of education. Do you miss work because you have a little cold? Nope. And don’t get your panties in a bunch here; I already noted that some people will indeed send their kids to school when they shouldn’t.

Why do we need to make each other feel guilty about the decisions we make for our kids? The keyword in that sentence being our.  And I’m not talking about some koombaya moment here. Just looking for some common sense to prevail in a society where it doesn’t typically seem to. You do what works for you and let me do what works for me. As long as my children are healthy and happy, you should just smile and wave. And keep your opinions to yourself. Unless of course you want to throw some praise at a mom. In that case, have at it. But let’s lift each other up. Not shit on each other. It’s not a good look.

Peace. Love. And sanity.

And solidarity. (word to the mothers)

The joys of womanhood

Being a woman isn’t easy. I mean, the upkeep alone is enough to make you want to be a man. And they don’t get it, not one bit. They roll out of bed on a Sunday, throw on a hat and they’re ready for the day. As they look at you and ask why you’re not ready yet. So yeah, being a woman is a bitch, so it’s no wonder why sometimes we can act like one (not that I necessarily think being called a bitch is a negative thing, depending on the context.) So let’s count the ways….

1 – As I mentioned, the upkeep. I spent three hours last weekend getting “maintenance” performed on my person. From hair to eyebrows to nails. And I’m not a princess people. But as any woman knows, these are necessary items that must be performed in order to not look scary to the outside world. And ok, maybe I’m slightly obsessed with my eyebrows as of late, but that’s a different story. You still look weird if your eyebrows appear to have a bridge between them.

2 – Being “mom”. If you are a mom, you are probably the most “called on” for things. No matter how close dad or other siblings are to what they are asking for, those little buggers will seek you out so they can ask you. Even if you’re in the bathroom. “Mom – can I have some milk?” “Sure honey, why don’t you ask your father who is standing right next to the refrigerator?”

3 – Makeup. I know I need to wear some makeup in order to look human. And as I get older, I realize I need to wear MORE makeup to look human. Case in scary point: We were away last week at a water park. So naturally one doesn’t wear makeup when they are splashing around in the water with their precious little peanuts, or at least this woman doesn’t. And I barely slept the night before because my toddler likes to randomly wakeup and “sleep cry”. This means that he doesn’t know that he’s doing it but he wakes up everyone in the process, except for my husband, who wears earplugs. In any case, we were at the water park that day and my husband says “Look at me.” So I’m assuming he’s going to tell me that I have something on my face or something in my teeth from breakfast. Oh no, it’s even better. He says “It looks like you have two black eyes.” Gasp! Did he just say that out loud? I know what you’re thinking ladies, but I must love this man a lot because he’s still alive. Of course I was at Ulta the next day looking for a concealer labeled – medium beige/no sleep. Yeah, they don’t make that yet, but they should get on it.

4 – Working out and getting weighed. So you can bust your ass at the gym. You can literally feel like you’re sweating your ass off. You can feel like you’re getting stronger, and you know your nutrition is on point. But if it’s “that time of the month” and you get on a scale or some other torture device (i.e. the scale/body composition machine at the gym) you will cry and/or throw something. Because for a woman, working out and eating right aren’t the only factors you have to deal with, you also have to deal with hormones. So do yourself (and those around you) a favor and just avoid those torture machines around “that time”. Trust me on this one.

5 – Having a baby. This one does all kinds of things to your body. And those things are way too numerous to name in this one post. But one thing to highlight, per my sister, is that not only do they live in you for 10 months as your body actually builds them, but once they come out they also feel the need to take a bit of your dignity with them. From the time of delivery to when you try to do a jumping jack or you sneeze or you laugh too hard. I’m pretty sure I don’t need to explain this one any further ladies. Oh the joys of pregnancy. But it’s such a beautiful, natural thing. Right? Yeah, right.

I could probably go on and on about what it means to be a woman in this world, but I digress. I thought it best to highlight some of the major things some of us deal with in our lives at this point, as well as to give a little peak into the future for those who have not yet joined these ranks. But no matter what we deal with, there is no doubt at all in my mind that while we may not be the physically stronger sex in many instances, we are certainly the emotionally stronger ones because there is no way in hell that a man could deal with any of the crap we get to deal with on a daily basis. So in closing – Girls rule. Boys drool.

Peace. Love. And sanity. (my bitches)

The best medicine

It really doesn't get much better than a vacation with the girls. It's an overall mental health break. A refueling for your soul. A chance to get away from your everyday and be yourself and just exist, if only for a few days, like you have no cares. No responsibilities.

And you really appreciate the time you get to spend with these people. Especially when you know that you are going to get some very key things accomplished in these few short days away. You laugh. A lot. You cry. Laugh until you cry. Laugh until you pee your pants. Drink until someone gets carried home. Wake up and do it again. 

Now I don't want to brag, but my girls kick some major ass. I could spend one day with them and be re-energized to take on the week ahead. But getting to spend a nice long weekend with them, even with a cluster of a road trip thrown in there, was complete awesome sauce. And we've all been through some shit. So that crying mentioned earlier was pretty much inevitable. When your girlfriend has kicked the crap out of cancer TWICE - you hug and you cry and you laugh and you are thankful. 


I am so thankful. For all of them. These kinds of friends are the kinds of friends that you cannot see for months (even though that really sucks) and it's as if no time had passed. You feel less alone and you feel like you are with the people who "get you". And you get to say things like - "I'm glad it's not just me!" and "That happens to you too!?" You can actually have conversations about religion, politics, music and bad tv. And you're still friends afterward. There are no such things as "taboo topics" with these friends. And you can be yourself. Warts and all. But thankfully my friends are very much like me - honest and funny basic bitches that enjoy the activity of imbibing copious amounts of alcohol - and I freakin' love them. 


So this particular weekend has brought me to the conclusion that vodka, beer, music and amazing friends (not necessarily in that order) is a pretty damn good prescription for anything that ails you. And when you need a break, when you need to rant about some ridiculous crap going on in your life, or when you really need to talk out which Real Housewives storyline is truly awful this season, I hope you're lucky enough to have your favorite bitches around to do it with. 


I send some major love and thanks out to those fantastic ladies and all of the fun, laughs and tears we shared over this phenomenal weekend. You have given me many a memory to think back on until we get to do it again. Hopefully sooner rather than later. 

Peace. Love. And sanity. (they have certainly helped me to preserve mine)