Thursday, June 30, 2011

Happy Birthday Little Princess!

I remember when I first decided it was time for our family of three to become a family of four.  I wanted another baby and I wasn't going to wait any longer.

I remember a few weeks into November of 2002 I learned you were growing in my belly.  I was giddy, I was
excited, I loved you the instant I knew you were there.

I remember going to the hospital to find out if you were going to be a boy or a girl, and not really having a clue what you were, I was just happy you were on your way.  I remember the ultrasound tech confirming that you were perfect and then revealing to our surprise that you were a baby girl.

I especially remember your daddy's face turning white and seeing panic in his eyes.  I remember still laying there on the table looking up at him and laughing so hard as he kept telling the tech she was wrong, it was a boy and she should double check!

I remember the morning of the day you were born.  You weren't due for another two weeks, but I woke up with a fever and the stomach bug and I just knew that I was going to meet you sometime that day.  It was just my kind of luck.

Sure enough about 3 in the afternoon I knew it was time.  I left your brother with "Mimi" and I proceeded to call your dad at work and tell him to meet me at the hospital.  There wasn't time for him to come home first to get me.  So you and I drove to the hospital and I rubbed my belly and talked to you the whole time, telling you to just be patient and hold on a little while longer until I was safe at the hospital.

I remember listening to the nurse argue with the doctor about me not really being in labor and that there wasn't even a bed available.  But I knew the truth.   I simply smiled knowing all along that you were only a few short hours away from proving that stupid nurse wrong.

I remember family members rushing in to my room to visit with me while we waited for you.  They didn't get the chance to stay very long because within minutes I kicked them all out and told them it was time for you to be born.

Sure enough, your mama was right, and at 9:20pm at night on June 30 2003, the most wonderful and precious little girl came into the world and made me a proud mother for the second time in my life.

I love you baby girl, and couldn't imagine a day without you!  You keep us constantly on our toes.  You make us laugh out loud every day.  You don't take life too seriously.  You find joy and appreciate the little things.  You tell it like it is.  You are your own person and you live life your way, without a care in the world!

Happy Eighth Birthday little princess!




I love you to the moon and back!

Love Mom

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

One step forward, three leaps back...

I took a huge step forward in my life long weight loss journey the other day by opening up to my readers about my struggle with weight in my last post.  I had begun to make some healthy changes in the way I was living my life, prompted in part by my husband's medical scare a month or so ago.

The coach and I decided to take charge of our health.  We spontaneously went out and dropped a pretty penny on an elliptical machine from Dick's Sporting Goods.  (I literally felt nauseous as I swiped my debit card and hit accept.)  But my husband kept reminding me all along that spending money for something to help us reach our goal of becoming healthier was money well spent.  He worked on it for a few hours that afternoon and had that impressive piece of machinery all put together.  We disputed a bit on where to put it but once again, the coach had a great idea and said stick it in the sun room.  (That way I can exercise in the middle of the day if I so choose when my daycare kids are napping.  I'm on the same floor as them and I don't wear headphones.  I play my ipod quietly right out of the speakers on the elliptical.  Not quite as motivating as blasting, energetic music, but definitely better than getting up at the ass crack of dawn every day to exercise!)  He's so thoughtful!

So I got myself into the routine of working out, doing 30 minutes every other day.  I felt good!  I was proud of myself for sticking with it for a couple of weeks.  I would even go as far as to say it was becoming a habit and something I looked forward to doing.  Shocking for those of you who know mean in real life!!  I'm usually the first one to opt out of doing something that induces sweating, heavy breathing, and muscle soreness!  (Get your head out of the gutter people!!)

I took it a step further.  I hired a personal trainer.  I met with her for a consultation.  I suffered through getting weighed, having my measurements taken, and my total body fat percentage calculated.  I committed to seeing her twice a week at 6:00am for one VERY LONG, TORTUROUS HOUR!   But when the next morning came for my next training session, I got up, sucked it up,  and I did it again.  I was starting to feel so much better about myself mentally.  The scale was moving rapidly in the right direction.  I was happy.

Physically though, I wasn't doing so well.  I was having major aches and pains in my hips, neck and middle back.  I figured if I ignored the pain it would go away.

I have back issues and have since my almost 11 year old was a tiny baby.  (He was 20lbs at 4 months old guys, and not easy to carry around!  It's hard to believe it if you saw him today, I can't get that kid to hit 70 pounds to save my soul!   But I digress...

So anywhoo,  every once in a while my back decides to act up.  Usually a couple quick adjustments from the chiropractor and I'm on my merry way, good as new.  This time though my back has been acting up for months.  I attributed it to having a bad mattress.  So we went out and bought a nice new memory foam mattress.  I was sure this would fix everything.

Almost two months later and my back was getting worse.  I wasn't sleeping, I would sneeze and get a stiff neck, I would bend down and feel a tingling pain dead center at the base of my spine.  I would have to gently roll myself up off the mattress in the mornings and some times it would take me two or three tries to stand up straight after lying down all night.  I knew that the more I was exercising the worse it was getting, but I denied it.  Day after day I ignored my pain and popped ibuprofen like it was candy.  I did this until I couldn't delude myself any longer.

After waking one morning and being physically unable to stand up and crying from the fear and the pain.  I called the chiropractor.  He saw me that night, took a bunch of x-rays and examined me.  He scared me to death because he kept saying things like,  "Oh my Gosh, Holy Cow, This is a mess, Oooooh jeez."  He broke protocol that night and adjusted me on my first visit.  He said I was an absolute mess and that he couldn't send me home in that condition.  His last piece of instruction for me after he said ice the area 20 minutes on, 20 minutes off all night was what I feared the most....

Absolutely no form of exercise until further notice.  

I piped up immediately,  With a little bit of hope left, "Not even walking?"

NO, NOTHING!!!  He exclaimed.

My last hope was dashed.  I knew all along he was going to tell me that.  I knew it was bad.  I had been hurting so terribly for so long.  He showed me the x-rays and those confirmed everything he had said.  My right hip and shoulder are about an inch and a half higher than the left.  My spine is in the shape of a compressed "C"  and my neck has been pushed an inch too far forward.  All these things can be corrected, but it will take some time.  Time that my impatient self does NOT want to wait for!

(I am an all or nothing type of person.  I'm starting to think this has something to do with why I can never keep weight off permanently.)  Some people can have a slip up and not let it effect them.  They pick themselves right back up and keep on trudging along.  My slip ups completely derail me for months at a time.  NOT GOOD!

So it's week two of NO exercise and I've been to the chiropractor 4 times so far.  Last night was the first night I wasn't in pain and could actually sleep.  I woke up and rolled right out of bed, no stiffness or intense shooting pains through my spine.  Hurray!

This is obviously a step in the right direction.  I'm trying to remind myself that this is simply just a bump in the road, and soon I will be back on track, feeling better than ever.  But I'm not going to lie.  It's hard.  I feel like I'm going to have to start all over again and I guess that's ok.  The alternative is getting so down on myself that I can't get back on track.  I'm not going to even let that be an option!

So this is where I'm at right now.  Trying to take it one day at a time.  Rest up, follow doctor's orders, and not give myself any excuses for eating poorly.  The coach put it best when he said to me that first night, "This doesn't spell disaster for you.  He didn't tell you to stop eating healthy."
And I need to remember:   that right there is half the battle.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Breaking the silence...

I've been writing this blog for a while now and I really enjoy sharing my life with my readers, the funny stuff, the stuff that makes me want to pull my hair out, and of course to document our life as my children continue to change and grow.  One issue that's always on my mind and something that I have struggled with for many years, I have chosen to keep private.   It's something that I've never felt comfortable opening up about on my blog.  I have felt safer keeping  it private all this time.  There were times that I've wanted to share it, but I haven't been ready.  I was hoping that one day I would come to a place where I felt secure enough to open up publicly about my struggle.  I'm not sure what happened to make me change how I feel, but I know that now,  it no longer needs to remain a secret.

I    struggle    with    my    weight.

I have probably since about the eighth grade.  Right around that time,  I remember having to be picky about what shorts I wore because my thighs were bigger and when I walked my thighs would rub together and my shorts would always ride up causing major embarrassment and I would constantly keep pulling them back down.  Those are the first memories I have where my weight started causing issues for me.

In high school I was probably about 20 pounds over weight, not enough so that I was isolated among my peers or made fun of, but just enough to make me terribly self conscious and so afraid to speak or do something wrong that would embarrass me.  If I could have been invisible during my high school years I would have been.  I went on a few crash diets, losing 10 pounds here and there, but because they were super unhealthy and completely unsustainable the weight came back along with a couple extra pounds here and there.

College Years:  I had the same insecurities and issues with weight but it didn't seem to matter as much.  I had several long term boy friends, lots of friends, and seemed to really find myself and come out of my shell.  My freshman year my roommate who was a cheerleader in high school vowed to do what ever it took to not gain the dreaded, "Freshman Fifteen".   I didn't even know what the hell it was at first but once she told me I jumped on board too.  I was already overweight and didn't need to pack on even more.  So the two of us started going to the aerobics classes in the college center every afternoon.  I had never exercised religiously a day in my life let alone taken an aerobics class.  IT WAS TORTURE!  Emotionally and physically.  I was so out of breath and every muscle in my body burned and screamed.  In my head I thought I looked like a fool and I strategically would place myself at the back of the room so no one would be behind me and see me working out.

Something crazy happened that year.  Despite all my fears and my own insecurities, I stuck it out.  I went to those classes, every damn afternoon.  After a while, they started to get easier.  I could keep up with the instructor and the cramps and super huffing and puffing went away.  Before I knew it, I was down about 15 pounds!  Screw gaining the freshman fifteen, I lost them!!  And, I kept them off the entire rest of my college days.  I still had weight to lose but at least I managed to get through 4 years of schooling without getting bigger and bigger.

Senior year I started a part time job off campus at a daycare center, and that's where I met the coach.  He worked there full time and he was my boss!  I finished school, graduated, and moved in with him a couple months later.  Being in a relationship might be wonderful for your heart, but it's bad news for your waist line!  You get comfortable and more relaxed knowing that someone loves you.  You stop being so careful about what your putting in your mouth and the time you spent exercising is now spent with the one you love.  I put those 15 pounds back on all that year plus some and it wasn't just because of poor eating and exercising habits.   Six months after graduating college, on Halloween night, I found out I was pregnant with the athlete.

To be continued...
This entry is part of Shell's PYHO link up...

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Post it note Tuesday...

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Tuesday, June 7, 2011

I just can't win...

Maybe it comes with the territory as a mom, I don't know.  I don't care.  Lately I can't catch a break around here.  I just can't win.

I could bust my butt cleaning my home long after they are asleep so my children could reside in a neat and tidy home, with their rooms always clean, their clothes always washed, dried, and put away neatly.

I could shop religiously once a week and make special trips to the store when we run out of their favorite cereals or snacks to keep them happy.

I could work a 10 hour a day job, 5 days a week, sacrificing my home and sometimes my sanity to be able to be home for them after school and provide all the extras in life that this job allows for.

I could shower my children day in and day out with almost, their every desire.

Wait a minute, I already do that.  Silly me!

And after all that, they still find something to complain about.  They still ask for more.  They still complain that I should have done more.

Case in point:  I decided to buy Taylor Swift tickets for the princess for her birthday this month.  I bought them months ago and I have secretly kept them hidden.  I spent a small fortune on these 2 tickets, one for her and one for me.  (I thought it would be something special for the two of us to do together.)  I have kept my excitement in check and been able to keep them hidden all this time and finally the coach says last night, "Lets give her her birthday present a couple weeks early. I just can't wait anymore."  So fine, I break out the envelope and present it to her.  I'm thrilled too.  I can't wait to see her reaction!

She opens them up, sees that they are Taylor Swift tickets and then asks if her best friend can go.  I tell her no, there are only 2 tickets and they are for her and I.  She says "Kaylee and I will see you after the concert." and smiles a fresh little smile.

I didn't get a "thanks mom!"  followed by a great big hug.  I got a look of disappointment.  Then got slammed even harder when she asks her father if he will order her a diamond for her birthday!

Yes you read right, a freakin' diamond!!

She has been into rocks and crystals lately and spends much of her free time digging in the dirt collecting pretty stones, hoping one will be a diamond. Since she hasn't found one yet, she has been begging the coach to buy her one.  (That's the twisted way my kids think!  Well I want it so you should get if for me.)  I guess this is our fault and we might need to reevaluate our parenting beliefs a bit in order to correct this negative behavior of theirs.

The coach actually had to tell her to say thank you to me and give me a hug which meant jack crap as far as I'm concerned.  If you have to ask for it, then it doesn't count or mean a thing to me.  I even kind of pouted the remainder of the night.  I have to admit my feelings were hurt, whether it was deliberate or not.  That was NOT the reaction I was expecting out of her.  I wanted to sell those stupid tickets right then and there and turn around and tell her she was now getting nothing for her birthday.

But, I know I won't.  And maybe that right there is the root of all this.  I want to take her.  I want to have a good time with her.  I want her to have fun with me too!  I am so torn.

When do children learn to appreciate all that parents give and sacrifice for them?  Is it not till they have grown into adults and are parenting their own children, that the light bulb finally goes off?  I'm just feeling unappreciated lately and a little down in the dumps.

I'm participating in Shell's PYHO