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)

O Toddler! My Toddler!

No human being, aside from the toddler, is as equally needy as they are independent. These tiny little dictators rule your world from morning until night with their odd tantrums, their puzzling requirements and their Jedi mind tricks. If this phase wasn't a fairly short stint between "baby" and "school-aged kid", parents everywhere would be spending some time in the psych ward.

The toddler is a special kind of special.  One minute they are all smiles and the next they are throwing themselves on the ground because it was their turn to put the stickers on the happy meal toy.  Oh yeah, that totally happened just the other day. Or they are soooooo thirsty for that cup of milk that they must have it NOW! And then you get it for them, so as to avoid a meltdown and shocker, they don't want it anymore! It doesn't end there with the toddler. They want to watch their tv show, while they simultaneously take all of the pillows off of the couch and create a fort. But as soon as you change the tv because clearly they weren't watching- "I was watching that!" (enter tantrum)

And sometimes this happens - "I want to watch Paw Patrol." To which I reply, "Sorry buddy, Paw Patrol isn't on now." "Why?" "I don't know, I'm not the program director for Nick Jr." (enter tantrum) Now I know I could probably find it on YouTube or through the On Demand menu, but hey, I didn't have that when I was a kid! And I also sat through commercials, so get it together toddler! See, I can play his little game too. And besides, you know it's fun sometimes to mess with them since they spend so much time messing with you!

These cuteness wielding hell-raisers love to mess with you. They really do it for fun. I believe they get joy out of watching their parents get worked up. Taunting us with their cuteness as they proceed to mush cupcake in their freshly washed hair. Or doing something you told them explicitly not to do 100 times prior, while they look you right in the eye and do it. Oh they love that one!

And let's talk about the repetition factor, which really is synonymous with the toddler. If you have a toddler then you have heard the same question, the same request, the same song stated/sung/yelled  over and over and over again. Or if you're a mom, you've definitely heard your "name" said in 10 different ways for 10 minutes straight. I've contemplated just having him call me Beth. But I'm sure he'd find a way to beat that to death too, but "mom" he just abuses. Momma. Mom. Mommy. Mooooommmmyyyyy!!! Ugh. It's exhausting.

 And then this mini juxtaposition of angel and devil, when you tuck them in at night, manages to make up for all (ok most, ok some) of their shitty little toddler ways. Their need to hug and kiss you more times than is necessary, while probably a tactic to avoid sleep, gets you every time. Those puckered lips and that need to give you a big hug and a kiss, a little hug and a kiss, maybe even a Valentine hug and kiss or my favorite, the Hulk hug and kiss. It makes up for the craziness of the day. And it sets you up for tomorrow. And for more yelling, timeouts, tantrums and tests of will and patience. Oh how I love my sweet, sweet toddler monster.

 Peace. Love. And sanity. (which you're going to need to keep a death grip on with a toddler)

Why the hell did I sign up for a Spartan Race?

This is a question I continue to ask myself since I signed up two weeks ago. What the hell was I thinking? I'm not an athlete. I'm not an adventure seeker. I like wine. And my couch. I like the basics, remember?

 But maybe that's not true? I have no idea. So since I've signed up I've been really thinking about why I'm doing this. Am I crazy? Am I fooling myself about my abilities? I'm currently listening to (yes listening, what's reading?) the book Spartan Up by Joe De Sena, the founder of the Spartan Race. He goes through lists including: foods to eat, what makes you a Spartan, how to become a Spartan, etc. So I thought I would go through my own list. Put it out there. Make my commitment. Convince myself that yeah, you can do this. Maybe.

 1 – My husband: He is in love with this stuff. He’s going for his trifecta this year, which is three crazy ass Spartan races (Sprint, Super, and Beast) that continue to increase in difficulty, and he’ll do it no doubt. So when he asked me to do the Spartan Sprint with him, at first I laughed. And then I thought about it, consulted a friend and took the plunge. Well, I didn’t, my husband signed me up and I got the email. You’re registered! I know what you’re thinking – “How cute. You guys want to swim through mud and jump over fire together. How adorable.”

2 – Am I more than the sum of what I do every day? As mother, wife and worker, is there something else I can do solely for me by me?  Don’t get me wrong I love being those things. Those all give me fulfillment in different ways, but this would be all about me. Can I do something for me that is all me? Is doing something like this just for myself motivating enough?

3 – Making a commitment. So apparently the first step to making the commitment to do the race is to sign up. Check! I have that part done.  But I’m wishy washy. In my history of dieting and working out, if someone says, “Hey, you’re looking good,” my next step is to reward myself with a pizza. Hey, I earned it! Ridiculous right? In making the commitment to do this race, I know I cannot do that. Someone like me cannot be fueled by pizza and finish this race. I will need to stick with my workouts and my nutritional plan to get this done - to kick some ass.

4 – Monotony. If there were medals given out for most accomplished in dealing with monotony, I would win. The phrase “same shit, different day” is not lost on me. Not by a long shot. Not by many of us right? And again, I love my life, and know routine is necessary but I’ll be damned if I don’t need something like this to shake me up a bit.

5 – People are masochists. Am I wrong here? I say this often. I believe it. And my example is always hot wings. It’s silly but it’s true. People eat hot wings, love hot wings, but they make their eyes tear their noses run and they continue to eat them. And they keep ratcheting up the heat level. People like some pain. So here is proof of my own masochism. I can’t wait to put myself through some torture.

6 – To feel like a badass. This one is self-explanatory. When I finished the much less taxing Dirty Girl Mud Run, I felt great. I felt accomplished. I felt a bit of a high in completing something I had never done before. I want that feeling again.  

And there's my list. Those are my reasons. And at the end of the day maybe I can't make all of the obstacles. Maybe I fall off of those monkey bars and am forced to do more burpees than I deem a human being should ever do. But either way, I'll be giving it my best damn shot. In my quest for badassery, I will get to the end.  One way or another.

Holy crap, was that some optimism and positive thinking? See, I'm not good at that so I don't even know it when it happens.

Oh, and if you’d like you join our team in the quest for your own badassery, feel free to reach out and I’ll give you the details.

 Peace. Love. And sanity.