Just a quick word to confirm that I'm not, in fact, dead but rather working my ass off both at work and at home due to some weird cosmic convergence of Crazy Sucky Busy Time. (Hey! I think I'll trademark that phrase and put it on a tee shirt.)
On the upside, the weather is awesome, my kid is a rock star and my husband has his moments. Heh.
In my free time, (HAHAHAHAHAHALOL HILARIOUS) I've been enjoying some hits from the early 80's. Because rockin' saxaphone is awesome.
Who can it be now??
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Just Keep Swimming
In between morning rushes, bedtime stories, bug-collecting, ow-ies, bandaids, being superheroes, couch forts, snuggles, potty-ing and dinner times, I look at my son and can see that the tiny baby who was nearly an extension of me at first, nearly always attached to me in some way, mute, and helpless, is now (not so suddenly, but still astoundingly) A Person. With a Self. A Self who is independent of me on many levels, and becoming more so every day. And this is a good thing, something to be celebrated.
Now that he is walking, talking, running, discovering, arguing, negotiating, making friends, imagining, philosophizing about life, even...everyday, you can SEE that Self in there more clearly. It's breathtaking and awe inspiring and just...you know. He's breaking out of the cocoon of babyness and butterflying his way out.
It reminds me of turtles. You know, the sea turtles? The ones that hatch on the beach and somehow, someway have to make it all the way down to the ocean, their new, fragile little flippers dragging them through the sand, rife with predators and inclement weather and god knows what-all.
My son's sense of Who He Is, and how he feels about himself is a baby turtle. Cautiously venturing out from the safety of the egg, tentatively making his way out into the big ocean all full of multitudes of different, amazing, potentially harmful creatures. Many of whom would love a nice baby turtle appetizer and won't think twice about taking it.
Of course, I love the Self that is emerging. And I encourage it. I want to hold it in my hand and admire its beauty, its intricacy, its perfect design. I work hard to reflect back to him what I want him to see within- a worthwhile person, with amazing, smart ideas, a wonderful imagination, valid feelings, strength and sensitivity. I want him to know that he is worth seeing, worth listening to, worth loving. Worthy of pursuing desire, of pleasure, of peace.
And while I would like to just hold an umbrella over him as he navigates his way to the ocean, aiming a shotgun at any hungries who happen to come by, I know that's impractical. And ultimately, unhealthy for both of us. I can't protect him from every heartbreak, from those who would tell him he's somehow inferior, from disappointment. All I can do is give him the best start possible, and a safe place to come back to when the seas get rough.
But I might sleep with a harpoon under my pillow and carry a trident behind my back.
You know, just in case.
Now that he is walking, talking, running, discovering, arguing, negotiating, making friends, imagining, philosophizing about life, even...everyday, you can SEE that Self in there more clearly. It's breathtaking and awe inspiring and just...you know.
It reminds me of turtles. You know, the sea turtles? The ones that hatch on the beach and somehow, someway have to make it all the way down to the ocean, their new, fragile little flippers dragging them through the sand, rife with predators and inclement weather and god knows what-all.
My son's sense of Who He Is, and how he feels about himself is a baby turtle. Cautiously venturing out from the safety of the egg, tentatively making his way out into the big ocean all full of multitudes of different, amazing, potentially harmful creatures. Many of whom would love a nice baby turtle appetizer and won't think twice about taking it.
Of course, I love the Self that is emerging. And I encourage it. I want to hold it in my hand and admire its beauty, its intricacy, its perfect design. I work hard to reflect back to him what I want him to see within- a worthwhile person, with amazing, smart ideas, a wonderful imagination, valid feelings, strength and sensitivity. I want him to know that he is worth seeing, worth listening to, worth loving. Worthy of pursuing desire, of pleasure, of peace.
And while I would like to just hold an umbrella over him as he navigates his way to the ocean, aiming a shotgun at any hungries who happen to come by, I know that's impractical. And ultimately, unhealthy for both of us. I can't protect him from every heartbreak, from those who would tell him he's somehow inferior, from disappointment. All I can do is give him the best start possible, and a safe place to come back to when the seas get rough.
But I might sleep with a harpoon under my pillow and carry a trident behind my back.
You know, just in case.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
OMG, Y'all- Book Review.
First. If you have not read The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
, STOP WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING AND READ THIS BOOK RIGHT NOW. You'll thank me. **
I actually just finished the second book
in the trilogy and can't believe that the third one doesn't come out until August. August! I die!
This was a book club selection (I have the coolest book club! Love!) and probably not something I would have picked up on my own....maybe, but probably not. I hate to say it but the cover art kind of reminded me of some sort of Patriot Games adult man spy fantasy fiction. But. THESE ARE NOT THAT.
They are, however, young adult books but don't let that sway you- in my opinion, some of the best literature comes out of the 'young adult' genre.
I would like to provide a brief synopsis here but everytime I try to explain the first book to someone, I do such a terrible job, they look at me like a boob just sprouted on my forehead. Let's just say that The Hunger Games is thought-provoking, gripping, and features an incredible young female protagonist.
Second. Cecily of Uppercase Woman linked to a project involving bloggers writing letters to their 20 year old selves. This idea intrigues me and sounds really awesome. Truly. But every time I sit down to think about what I would write, I get all gummed up...like there's some shit that went down back then that I've never really taken the time to process. I try to picture my 20 year old self and I'm awash in images of confusion, heartache, recklessness, and hard-headed, almost willful self-destruction. Is that unusual? Or is that just what being 20 IS to most people?
I still may try to write the letter, but right now the idea of it feels like wading through quicksand. That can't be healthy.
** FULL DISCLOSURE: This is not a paid review. I just loved the book. However, if you buy the book from Amazon through my site, I DO get a little kickback. Just keeping shit real.
, STOP WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING AND READ THIS BOOK RIGHT NOW. You'll thank me. **I actually just finished the second book
in the trilogy and can't believe that the third one doesn't come out until August. August! I die!This was a book club selection (I have the coolest book club! Love!) and probably not something I would have picked up on my own....maybe, but probably not. I hate to say it but the cover art kind of reminded me of some sort of Patriot Games adult man spy fantasy fiction. But. THESE ARE NOT THAT.
They are, however, young adult books but don't let that sway you- in my opinion, some of the best literature comes out of the 'young adult' genre.
I would like to provide a brief synopsis here but everytime I try to explain the first book to someone, I do such a terrible job, they look at me like a boob just sprouted on my forehead. Let's just say that The Hunger Games is thought-provoking, gripping, and features an incredible young female protagonist.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Second. Cecily of Uppercase Woman linked to a project involving bloggers writing letters to their 20 year old selves. This idea intrigues me and sounds really awesome. Truly. But every time I sit down to think about what I would write, I get all gummed up...like there's some shit that went down back then that I've never really taken the time to process. I try to picture my 20 year old self and I'm awash in images of confusion, heartache, recklessness, and hard-headed, almost willful self-destruction. Is that unusual? Or is that just what being 20 IS to most people?
I still may try to write the letter, but right now the idea of it feels like wading through quicksand. That can't be healthy.
** FULL DISCLOSURE: This is not a paid review. I just loved the book. However, if you buy the book from Amazon through my site, I DO get a little kickback. Just keeping shit real.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Questions
1. Who's genius idea was it to have 'round table staff meetings' at 9 AM on MONDAYS? KILL.
2. How is my heater clicking on in the middle of motherloving JUNE supposed to keep me from wallowing in dank hole of self-pity and depression because? It feels like IT IS NEVER GOING TO BE SUMMER.
3. How much caffeine will it actually take for me to feel like a human today? 1 cup of coffee? 2? 37?
4. How are you?
2. How is my heater clicking on in the middle of motherloving JUNE supposed to keep me from wallowing in dank hole of self-pity and depression because? It feels like IT IS NEVER GOING TO BE SUMMER.
3. How much caffeine will it actually take for me to feel like a human today? 1 cup of coffee? 2? 37?
4. How are you?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
So good...so good...I got you!
I started counting calories and upping my daily workouts a bit in the beginning of April. I didn't really have a specific goal in mind, weight or size-wise, I just want to be...fit. I wanted to feel good and be able to do stuff. Like run a 5k. And hike. And do push-ups.
And here, for the first time, are some stats. Please don't think that I'm bragging or bemoaning or anything like that. I'm just stating what's going on with my body and certainly not passing judgement on anyone else's. Health certainly doesn't correspond with size! I just wanted to document what's up here because 1. I suck at keeping a journal...this blog is pretty much it most weeks, and 2. it's motivating to put this stuff out here for you guys...keeps me honest :-)
At 5ft, 8 in. tall, my starting weight, back in April was 160 lbs. and I was pretty consistently wearing a size 12. I was already excersising moderately 4-5 times a week (ususally alternating days of 30-60 min. of cardio or strength training). I don't feel like I was out of shape, really, but I wasn't watching what I was eating (or drinking)...at all and I wasn't pushing myself in my workouts. I could only do 2-3 push-ups before I was cheating and going down on my knees.
Since April, (I think I've mentioned this before, heh) I've been journaling every. single. thing. I put in my mouth here which might sound a bit obsessive but its actually kind of fun. And addicting. After a few days of doing this, I learned (duh) that I could eat more of stuff that was better for me, i.e., fruits and veggies and non-fat dairy as opposed to cookies, breads, fatty delicious Tillamook cheese, etc.
For example, a huge salad, complete with spinach, avacado, baby carrots, tomato, cucumber, 2% monterey jack and salsa and even a little bit of light sour cream for lunch was under 300 calories! And filling! And super delicious! Add a couple of homemade masa corn tortillas and I'm stuffed and in at about 400 calories. Compare that to a lunch I might have had pre-calorie obsession of turkey sandwich with the before mentioned delicious full-fat cheese, mayo, and much smaller serving of veggies and maybe some chips and a piece of fruit and there is a HUGE difference, calorie wise. And overall feeling-wise. I've discovered that I just plain feel better when I eat the salad... the turkey sandwich/chips lunch would tend to make me kind of heavy and bloated or something. I just don't need that much food. But I would eat it because it was there. And because that's what my 230 lb. 6'2" husband was eating. See if you can spot the error.
As of this weekend, I'm at 148 lbs. and fitting into 8-10's, depending on brand. (We went to Old Navy, Target, and Macy's over the weekend to get the husband some shorts and I tried on pants just for shits and gigs.)
More importantly, I have achieved my bigger goal of feeling good. I can now comfortably run 4 miles. I can do this grueling workout
with relative ease. I can do "real" pushups (not a lot, but even 10-15 push-ups off my knees is better than where I started!) I have energy and a certain clarity of mind that I feel is directly related to increasing the intensity and duration of my work-outs.
My shoulders and arms look...dare I say...muscular. Ish. And my legs are firmer. My collar bone stands out a bit. I'll probably never lose the little "I've had a baby paunch" around my middle, but that doesn't bother me because HELLO I created a person out of thin air and housed and fed him there for 9 months. My little tummy is a fucking badge of honor and honestly, I want to keep a little roundness there to remind me of how connected we once were and of the amazing shit a woman's body, MY body is capable of.
Most of this shit may be totally obvious to you and you very well might be sick of reading about it. But. This journey so far has been a huge adjustment for me and kind of all-encompassing. I've had to change the way I see exercise (fun! and challenging! and stress relieving instead of a boring chore that has to be completed) and how I see food (fresh, delicious fuel to be savored as opposed to whatever crap is there to shove into my pie-hole.) I'm now planning on running a 5k in 2 weeks. And I'm totally excited. I'm also going to walk a half-marathon on July 4th. Because I can do it. And because its in a beautiful place and will be fun.
I feel good, you guys.
And here, for the first time, are some stats. Please don't think that I'm bragging or bemoaning or anything like that. I'm just stating what's going on with my body and certainly not passing judgement on anyone else's. Health certainly doesn't correspond with size! I just wanted to document what's up here because 1. I suck at keeping a journal...this blog is pretty much it most weeks, and 2. it's motivating to put this stuff out here for you guys...keeps me honest :-)
At 5ft, 8 in. tall, my starting weight, back in April was 160 lbs. and I was pretty consistently wearing a size 12. I was already excersising moderately 4-5 times a week (ususally alternating days of 30-60 min. of cardio or strength training). I don't feel like I was out of shape, really, but I wasn't watching what I was eating (or drinking)...at all and I wasn't pushing myself in my workouts. I could only do 2-3 push-ups before I was cheating and going down on my knees.
Since April, (I think I've mentioned this before, heh) I've been journaling every. single. thing. I put in my mouth here which might sound a bit obsessive but its actually kind of fun. And addicting. After a few days of doing this, I learned (duh) that I could eat more of stuff that was better for me, i.e., fruits and veggies and non-fat dairy as opposed to cookies, breads, fatty delicious Tillamook cheese, etc.
For example, a huge salad, complete with spinach, avacado, baby carrots, tomato, cucumber, 2% monterey jack and salsa and even a little bit of light sour cream for lunch was under 300 calories! And filling! And super delicious! Add a couple of homemade masa corn tortillas and I'm stuffed and in at about 400 calories. Compare that to a lunch I might have had pre-calorie obsession of turkey sandwich with the before mentioned delicious full-fat cheese, mayo, and much smaller serving of veggies and maybe some chips and a piece of fruit and there is a HUGE difference, calorie wise. And overall feeling-wise. I've discovered that I just plain feel better when I eat the salad... the turkey sandwich/chips lunch would tend to make me kind of heavy and bloated or something. I just don't need that much food. But I would eat it because it was there. And because that's what my 230 lb. 6'2" husband was eating. See if you can spot the error.
As of this weekend, I'm at 148 lbs. and fitting into 8-10's, depending on brand. (We went to Old Navy, Target, and Macy's over the weekend to get the husband some shorts and I tried on pants just for shits and gigs.)
More importantly, I have achieved my bigger goal of feeling good. I can now comfortably run 4 miles. I can do this grueling workout
with relative ease. I can do "real" pushups (not a lot, but even 10-15 push-ups off my knees is better than where I started!) I have energy and a certain clarity of mind that I feel is directly related to increasing the intensity and duration of my work-outs. My shoulders and arms look...dare I say...muscular. Ish. And my legs are firmer. My collar bone stands out a bit. I'll probably never lose the little "I've had a baby paunch" around my middle, but that doesn't bother me because HELLO I created a person out of thin air and housed and fed him there for 9 months. My little tummy is a fucking badge of honor and honestly, I want to keep a little roundness there to remind me of how connected we once were and of the amazing shit a woman's body, MY body is capable of.
Most of this shit may be totally obvious to you and you very well might be sick of reading about it. But. This journey so far has been a huge adjustment for me and kind of all-encompassing. I've had to change the way I see exercise (fun! and challenging! and stress relieving instead of a boring chore that has to be completed) and how I see food (fresh, delicious fuel to be savored as opposed to whatever crap is there to shove into my pie-hole.) I'm now planning on running a 5k in 2 weeks. And I'm totally excited. I'm also going to walk a half-marathon on July 4th. Because I can do it. And because its in a beautiful place and will be fun.
I feel good, you guys.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Keep on the Sunny Side
You know that kind of sick that makes you feel like you're slightly high? Or drunk? That's what I have right now. A doozy of a summer cold complete with sinus pain, congestion, googly eyes and foul temper. Although that last symptom might just be a personality trait.
I've been sucking it up and going to work anyway because its our busiest time of year and my desk is awash in a sea of white paper and post-it notes. That, and I was cursed with this stupid thing called a 'work ethic' and actually feel guilty calling in sick when I know that I have a shit-ton to do. Go figure.
In other news, we're totally potty-learned (taught?...I dunno...I just don't like the word "trained") with only a few (pee) accidents here and there when he gets distracted. It was a MUCH less arduous process than I thought it would be and all I can think is that we just caught the right little developmental window and he was ready.
Now to work on weaning. Or not. I have conflicting feelings about it, but mostly feel like I'll be ready very soon. The little dude really only nurses now once a day (at bedtime) but asks to nurse if he wakes up in the middle of the night, hurts himself or is sick. So its not like I'm whipping 'em out constantly or anything. I'm sure that it will evolve like everything else and I should just enjoy these last nursings because Otto is probably going to be an only child. Right? Right. And now that I think about it, with me being all nasty-sick, he's getting my antibodies so if he gets it, it should be a much milder illness. So...upside.
The weather here has finally turned the corner into something resembling spring/summer with highs hovering around 70 degrees and leaves/blossoms popping out on trees. We've got cherry tomatoes, daisies, bell peppers, and lettuce (that we started indoors from seed) now in containers outside on our front stoop. We'll see how they get on, as the nights are still a little chilly.
We also started sunflowers and I planted them on the south facing side of the house, so hopefully they'll take off and give us some nice tall flowers later on this summer. Growing up in Kansas, I always loved watching how the sunflowers took pains to turn their faces toward the sun throughout the day. Isn't funny how nature kind of knows what's up if you just pay attention?
I've been sucking it up and going to work anyway because its our busiest time of year and my desk is awash in a sea of white paper and post-it notes. That, and I was cursed with this stupid thing called a 'work ethic' and actually feel guilty calling in sick when I know that I have a shit-ton to do. Go figure.
In other news, we're totally potty-learned (taught?...I dunno...I just don't like the word "trained") with only a few (pee) accidents here and there when he gets distracted. It was a MUCH less arduous process than I thought it would be and all I can think is that we just caught the right little developmental window and he was ready.
Now to work on weaning. Or not. I have conflicting feelings about it, but mostly feel like I'll be ready very soon. The little dude really only nurses now once a day (at bedtime) but asks to nurse if he wakes up in the middle of the night, hurts himself or is sick. So its not like I'm whipping 'em out constantly or anything. I'm sure that it will evolve like everything else and I should just enjoy these last nursings because Otto is probably going to be an only child. Right? Right. And now that I think about it, with me being all nasty-sick, he's getting my antibodies so if he gets it, it should be a much milder illness. So...upside.
The weather here has finally turned the corner into something resembling spring/summer with highs hovering around 70 degrees and leaves/blossoms popping out on trees. We've got cherry tomatoes, daisies, bell peppers, and lettuce (that we started indoors from seed) now in containers outside on our front stoop. We'll see how they get on, as the nights are still a little chilly.
We also started sunflowers and I planted them on the south facing side of the house, so hopefully they'll take off and give us some nice tall flowers later on this summer. Growing up in Kansas, I always loved watching how the sunflowers took pains to turn their faces toward the sun throughout the day. Isn't funny how nature kind of knows what's up if you just pay attention?
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Weekend Redux
We were SO overdue for a weekend like this: sunny, warm(ish), 3 WHOLE DAYS LONG...sigh. It was awesome. We hiked, we biked, we grilled, we socialized, we cleaned...I even went to the movies.
On Saturday, we hiked and it was probably Ruby's best day in her entire 10 month life. We let her off the leash and you could tell at first she didn't really believe it. She stayed very close and kept looking at her leash in my hand, like "This has to be a trick, right? Well I'm not falling for it!" After a while, though, she got more comfortable and by the end of the 3 miles, we were whistling for her every few minutes to come back in sight.
At the end of the trail, there's a little creek with a waterfall and we all stopped there for a snack and Otto and I even stuck our bare feet in the icy mountain water. Bracing. Ruby went nuts, especially when another family with another doodle joined us. It was the dog version of Clash of the Titans as the two dorks played and wrestled in the creek and then up on the dusty hillside.
We were so glad Ruby's been recently shaved because the other doodle? Who still had all its crazy hair? A huge mess. HUGE. Once Ruby was dry, I was able to brush her out to where she looked pretty much clean.
Right after the Epic Doodle Battle:
Other than that, we got a lot of chores done (washed both cars, and all our bikes, cleaned, did some planting), grilled some delicious food , (I know that recipe says to broil the chicken, but it was SO GOOD grilled.) and just generally enjoyed eachother's company.
As always, though, I didn't have enough time to do EVERYTHING I was hoping to get done (so sorry, picnic table that still needs to be sanded and sealed) but we did a pretty good job cramming a shit-ton of activities into three days.
ETA: Oh! Oh! I forgot the Breaking News from this weekend...my son now poops in the potty!!! You're welcome.
On Saturday, we hiked and it was probably Ruby's best day in her entire 10 month life. We let her off the leash and you could tell at first she didn't really believe it. She stayed very close and kept looking at her leash in my hand, like "This has to be a trick, right? Well I'm not falling for it!" After a while, though, she got more comfortable and by the end of the 3 miles, we were whistling for her every few minutes to come back in sight.
At the end of the trail, there's a little creek with a waterfall and we all stopped there for a snack and Otto and I even stuck our bare feet in the icy mountain water. Bracing. Ruby went nuts, especially when another family with another doodle joined us. It was the dog version of Clash of the Titans as the two dorks played and wrestled in the creek and then up on the dusty hillside.
We were so glad Ruby's been recently shaved because the other doodle? Who still had all its crazy hair? A huge mess. HUGE. Once Ruby was dry, I was able to brush her out to where she looked pretty much clean.
Right after the Epic Doodle Battle:
Other than that, we got a lot of chores done (washed both cars, and all our bikes, cleaned, did some planting), grilled some delicious food , (I know that recipe says to broil the chicken, but it was SO GOOD grilled.) and just generally enjoyed eachother's company.
As always, though, I didn't have enough time to do EVERYTHING I was hoping to get done (so sorry, picnic table that still needs to be sanded and sealed) but we did a pretty good job cramming a shit-ton of activities into three days.
ETA: Oh! Oh! I forgot the Breaking News from this weekend...my son now poops in the potty!!! You're welcome.
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