Learning together

I look in the mirror.

Stare at my flesh. Bare.

She looks up at me. Smile wide.

"Mommy, I see your booty." I laugh.

"Yes, I know." She starts stripping off her clothes.

"Can we both take a shower?" I nod, slightly.

Her bare skin unblemished. Taut over her tiny belly.

The recent doctor's visit far from her mind.

But not my own.

His words ring in my ear.

If she wants seconds give her vegetables. 

Cut back on sweets. 

Especially at nighttime. 

Get her more active.

Isn't she active, I think to myself.

Haven't we done well?

Haven't I?

For now she thinks stepping on a scale measures how tall she is. Or how big.

She rarely sees me do it. For me it's once a week.

This is new.

Will she ask? Have questions? I'm sure.

My answers? I hope for them to be open and honest. Real.

True.

I hold open the shower door.

Test the water temperature.

She steps in.

One last look in the mirror and I sigh.

The water splashes on her and she laughs.

"Come on, Mommy."

"I'm coming," I reply.

And I step in.

Slowly.

With hopes that she never loses this innocence.

Never gains a new understanding.

Perhaps I'll lose my own.

She can teach me.

We can move forward.

Together.

Sunday, Sunday

 

Another Sunday, another update.  This was a rough week. And it's not because my parents are in town since Wednesday - which has been excellent - but because my kiddo got sick this week after her shots last Monday. High fever, which turned into a sort of cold, and ultimately turned into a stomach-y thing. Not fun. Needless to say it impacted my working out opportunities. 

Which made me quite hesitant to step on the scale this morning. Especially after that Hershey's with Almonds chocolate bar I had yesterday. The one I practically wolfed down in the front seat of the car. Yeah - that one. Not good. 

But I did include it in my calories for the day, so I tried, ya know? AND ... I got home, ordered Papa John's for us for dinner, and went out to RUN!

I am on Week 3 of the Couch to 5K running program. I probably could have been a lot further into it, but that first few weeks I stayed in week one because I didn't want to push myself too hard. I am not a runner - or I wasn't. I'm probably still not quite one, but I'm trying, ya know? I'm out there - as regularly as I can be - and trying to MOVE and motivate myself. 

So this morning I stepped on that scale. I said to myself, screw it, I might have a gain, but I might not, so we'll see. And when I stepped on and saw the number I said to myself, OK, fine, you stayed the same. That's alright. You kind of expected that. Then I went over to my phone and my trusty LoseIt app. I checked my previous weight and what do you know? I lost a pound! I can't believe it. I guess that even though my working out slowed down this week, my eating stayed within reason (even with a chocolate bar - no kidding!) and I upped my water intake, and it all came together.  

So some people might be ticked off at just a pound, but for me, slow and steady is winning this race. And even better, my mom, who I haven't seen in way too many months, noticed I'm slimming down. I told her I'm in it for real this time, and she even said my arms are "getting tight," seriously. I kind of feel it, so I'm proud enough to keep at it. Believe me. I have good and bad days. And weeks. And moments. I wasn't proud of wolfing down that chocolate bar by any means. But I needed it, wanted it and had it. And then I moved on. 

You can, too. Move on with me. We'll keep at this as best we can - TOGETHER. 

Thanks for sticking with me, friends. I feel really good and continue to stay motivated having you all along for the ride. It's like an accountability tool for myself to incorporate this into my blog. And if it's boring for any of you, sorry. Too bad. hee hee. I kid. But seriously. Sorry. I'll just tell you to move back a post and read something else. Or skip my Sunday week in review updates. Because I'm having at it and giving it my all. And pretty soon my numbers will be at a point where I'll look at the total I'm down and say, holy crap - no kidding! In the meantime, as crappy as I might feel, or as tired as I am, I'm going to continue to attack this mission WITH MY HEART.

As always, my images come from my Motivate me! Pinterest page. Link throughs are available there to find out where they originally came from. And if they're not, let me know. That means I fell asleep on the job there in my self-motivating state.

Spin ~ Book Review

Catherine McKenzie's Spin is a fantastic read.

I'll be honest, it's a bit of chick-lit, but it is combined with a whole lot of other stuff.

When I was meeting up with my book club and still reading the book, they asked me to describe it and I couldn't. I kind of said, it's about a girl, who is not really a girl - but a woman - who goes undercover in rehab to follow a celebrity who is in there.

That really doesn't do it any justice. It's so much more than a few lines of description can explain.

Kate, Katie - DOES go into rehab to follow celeb *it girl* Amber, get the scoop and earn herself a job. She does it and we watch her struggle with her emotions, her brain and everything else as she does so. We also watch her make new friends, struggle to keep her old ones, AND battle what could be defined as an addiction to alcohol.

So wait, Kate's actually an addict and belongs in rehab?

Maybe - maybe not.

We all end up sorting this out together. Including the other side of Kate's train of thought.

I really wind up liking her. Kate, I mean. I like her, I like her friends, even her seemingly crazy roommate. I like Amber, too. And Amy (Kate's rehab roommate!). It's an interesting journey and we watch as she grows from the kind of woman who'd lie to her closest friends about her age - even as she is about to turn 30 - to a woman who is strong and honest, and still a bit messed up.


The characters are thoroughly written, even the ones we rarely see. The parents, people from her past. Her friends. The ones who truly know her, the ones who think they do and don't. And her roommate. Oh, how I loved the character of her roommate. The labeling of the food - the seemingly erratic behaviors - and yet we wind up liking her, too. At least I did. Kate's an interesting individual who attracts interesting people. That's probably the best way I can sum up this whole story.

Well, I can't tell you everything or it would give it all away! But I will admit to finishing this book in about two days. And being overwhelmed when I first received it and seeing how thick it is. And checking those last pages and finding them in the 400+ range. And yet, I really liked it. And I think you will, too. Pick yourself up a copy. You'll enjoy it - I'm quite sure.

** I received a copy of this book from TLC Book Tours to facilitate my review. All expressed opinions are completely my own.**

Pouring my heart out: What's on my mind

I spent several hours last night awake as my daughter slept soundly in my spot in bed. Her fever spiked again and she was out of it. Dead weight I could not move. (I hate that term, by the way.)

So there I was, trying to find a spot for myself next to a feverish child. A soundly sleeping feverish child - which - yes - is better than the alternative. A snoring husband and a snoring dog. Do you think I fell asleep during all of that? On top of it all I needed to watch my daughter. You parents know how that is. And if you're not a parent yet, but plan to be, you will know. You will see those moments when your child is ill and you are wide awake, simply listening to the sound of her breath.

It flashed me back to the moments of her early days. Whether it was in the pack-n-play in our room, or in her crib once she was a little bit older. I'd check on her often. Constantly? No. But often enough. Was it my postpartum anxiety? I don't know. I just did it. I needed to feel her breath. I needed to hear it, touch her body and feel her warmth. 

This changed last night, and many a night before. When your child has a fever you want to take it from them. You touch their body, small, fragile, despite how strong and intense it may seem in those moments when they're playing soccer, running through the playground or jumping into the pool. Those moments of constant motion when you just want them to GO TO BED!

You feel the warmth of their untouched skin and want to absorb it into your own. Take the fever away so they can sleep soundly. Without restless tossing and turning. Without waking up to say, 'I'm cold, Mommy,' because you know it would be so helpful for them. You know it'd be just something small you could do to make it all better. 

So in the not-so-still of the night last night, I created many a blog post in my head. And yet, here I sit - my child sitting underneath the desk I am at (get up, get UP! She's obviously feeling better, wouldn't you agree?) two dogs laying on the floor behind me, writing about motherhood. What is it that turns my words into that of a mom? Or am I just being a mom? Talking about what means the most after a long night of tossing and turning? Perhaps. 

Is it ever appropriate to say "Just a mom"? Because I think not. Anymore than it would be to say someone is "Just a dad," right? So why do people get so caught up in labels, anyway? Mommy bloggers, or a mom who happens to blog? (I call myself the latter, as I believe I write about non-mommy things, as well. Am I wrong? What say you?) 

Sometimes I weigh more heavily in one direction or another. Sometimes I just write to write. I don't know. And I certainly didn't mean to turn this into any sort of debate. I suppose it turned into a steam of consciousness of sorts, while watching my child sleep last night I thought of so many things to write about. How she hogged the bed (have any of you seen that co-sleeping image of hilarity on Pinterest or FB? That's what I was thinking of at four AM) and I cradled my body around hers. Bumping into the nightstand. Tugging on my own pajamas. Hurting my arm a little bit after my own doctor's appointment yesterday. But there I was. A mom. Trying to sleep. Before I lost my ... well ... mind is a more polite way of finishing that sentence.

Thanks for reading, peeps. Peace out. 

Lazy Mom's Super Easy Smoothie

So my child is addicted to smoothies. Fortunately my new "not quite a Christmas or Chanukah present since it came after New Years" blender is awesome. Despite my hating the cleaning it part of this process. But I may have received a new tip on how to make that simpler (I love twitter. Have I mentioned how much I love twitter yet?).

Anyway, my lazy mom super easy smoothie recipe is one my daughter concocted, with me adding a few extras and Viola! We have a favorite smoothie recipe forever!

Ingredients:

- Small snack sized Ziplock bag of frozen (hulled) strawberries
- 3 full tablespoons of low-fat vanilla yogurt (yes, they are heapingly high)
- 2/3 c apple cider
- 1 scoop of Ovaltine mix

Purée or liquify and you are good to go.

And yes, my kid asked for strawberries, chocolate and peanut butter, but man, as delicious as peanut butter is in a smoothie, it is a pain in the butt to clean out of the blender!

Cheers!

Sunday Update on a Monday

So I'm a day late, but not a dollar short!

I skipped weighing in yesterday morning as we went for Hibachi on Friday night for my daughter's birthday, and as any good (former) Weight Watcher's participant knows, never weigh in a day or two after Chinese food. Hibachi is not quite the same, but I'm sure the sauces have plenty of sodium, and plenty of sodium = plenty of retained water = higher weight. 

Anyway, I weighed in this morning and am happy to report another 1.2 lbs down. 

Hallelujah!

I'm newly inspired in seeing that. I'll be honest, I wasn't sure how the weekend was going to force the scale to treat me.  I didn't go overboard, but I did have some cake to celebrate her special day, you know. I just couldn't not. 

I mean, I suppose I could have skipped it, but it was my baby's 5th Birthday. She only turns 5 once and all. And I skipped a workout that day, too. Oops. But I did work out this week. I did two C25K (Week 2) workouts outside, one on Monday, and one on Weds. Then I did it on the treadmill yesterday in my new Skeletoes shoes. (More on that another time!)

 And on Thursday and Saturday I did the new Walk Away the Pounds DVD I bought, the one mile power walk. Which was pretty cool. About twenty minutes worth, but worth it. I feel good. I'm tracking my calories but not going crazy, and I feel motivated and am still working at it!

Anyway - thanks for sticking with me and reading along. I think I've finally come to realize that no matter how hard I try to watch my food intake, no matter how hard I work at eating healthy and maintaining a minimum amount of calories, if I'm not working out along with those behaviors it's all pretty much for nada. So for now - I'll keep on keepin' on. 

Hope you're doing the same! 

* As always, images obtained through Pinterest and pinned to my Motivate Me! page.

A letter to my daughter

To my sweet, smart, beautiful and sometimes frustrating little girl, 

I cannot believe that you turn five today. 

Five years old. 

How is that even possible? 

I mean, I know how it's possible, but I just don't feel like it's right. 

I just brought you home. You - in your little Valentine's Day outfit that Daddy picked up for you. We weren't the kind of parents who planned ahead. We did not know if you were going to be a boy or a girl, so we waited. We were sure we'd have a chance to get something, and so we did. 

You looked so small. So tiny. So reliant on us both. 

I held you close and marveled at your fingers. Your toes. Your peach fuzz. There wasn't much of it at all, I can tell you that. The hair that never was, never would be - it seemed. 

But look at you now. It's all we can do to get that hair out of your eyes when you're eating. Clips barely work, but you like them more than before. Ponytails are your favorite. Mine, too. 

There is so much that I want for you. So much that I dream for you. And my hope is that I (and your Daddy) am keeping you on the right path towards these dreams. And towards the dreams you dream.

"I can be a ballerina when I grow up." The latest that I've heard. I'm sure your father hears more. Different ones. They're always changing. And that's what we want for you. Always. 

"Do I go to school when I'm five?" Not the day of - but soon. I think of how much you've learned over the years. Hope that I've done well for you. Keeping you home with me was not the only option, but the one we chose. I fear the things I may have cheated you out of. The things you've missed. But I know you have never been lacking love. Support. Strength and encouragement. 

From me. From Daddy. From your four incredible grandparents. Uncles. Aunt. Cousins. 

I think of how it is for me. Being so far from the family I grew up with. The ache I sometimes feel, listening to you talk to your cousin. Wishing we were around the corner and able to see them all the time. But you don't know anything different, and you're okay with how things are. And I take some pride in teaching you to be this way. 

To be the child who goes over to another child and says, "It's okay," when they are crying. To be the one who thinks of your little best friend as your sister. 

At this point in your life you've done swimming and soccer. We've taken you to museums and the zoo. You know you can play at Chick-fil-a and "NcDonalds" - but Mommy doesn't go there. "Give it a try, Mommy. You'll like it." Just like pepperoni. I tell you that you and Daddy can go and have fun there. I'm different. You know other mommies drive, but yours doesn't. But that doesn't stop you from directing Daddy from the backseat and telling us when you drive ... this is going to happen. Or that. It doesn't matter what it is. It just matters that you dream it. 

You're a kind-hearted child who loves every animal you see. Goes up to every stranger and asks, "Can I pet your puppy?" Those dogs love you from the moment they see you. You're at their level. But not for long. 

I watch you grow and face my own fears. Will she be a chubby child? Will she have my thighs? We keep you active, running, an energy that never stops. A mind that doesn't shut down. I fear that you'll be me in many years. Awake all hours of the night. A brain that won't shut off. I try to teach you how to cope. Close your eyes. Shut your mind. We talk about your day. Your dreams. 

"Tell me a story of when I was a baby," you ask. And so I do. 

I kiss your forehead. Cover you with a blanket. Two. Maybe three. Your animals are lined up beside you. "Bootie shake?" Bootie shake. A shadow from your nightlight and my hands behind my back. Waving. 

Night, night. I tell you. 

"Don't let the bedbugs bite," you reply. 

That is not always good night. You don't want to sleep. Not without me. Not yet. But you eventually do. And then, in the morning, I wake you. Your face rested and your eyes squeezed shut. Sleepy and still dreaming. And still, for that moment, my baby girl. 

Happy birthday, my little one. May you always continue to dream as you chase whatever stars you're wishing on from here to forever. Mommy loves you. Now and always. 

xoxox