Give me a PUSH

A little more than 21 days ago, I joined a small group of women in an accountability challenge. We were all looking for one thing in common: a way to make the habit stick. I have to admit, I joined this group because I wanted to get back in shape. I lost 4 pounds in 21 days, but I gained so much more. As we were posting motivation and talking about what helps us stay focused, a book was mentioned. I was on vacation at the time, and I happened to finish the digital book I was reading. I am a self-development junkie, so I decided to download it. I have to admit that it was full of MAJOR Ah-ha moments. Not just the kind that make you stop and think, but statements that profoundly redirected my way of thinking.
I know. Corny. But, true. I see it all the time, people posting things like “the dirty house can wait, the time with your babies cannot” and other ones that proclaim “sleep is for the weak.” Which is it, then? Can supermom really exist without sacrificing her own health…and possibly the wellbeing of her children? Is it really beneficial to my children that I CAN do it all if I get tired and cranky in the process? How much of MY stress do they absorb in a day? (I can just look at my oldest daughter sometimes and see it on her face. I’ve always called her my little sponge.)
I’ve written blogs about simplifying my life. I’ve written blogs about organizing my life. I’ve written blogs about trying to keep up with all my passions and hobbies. And now, I’m going to admit that it’s impossible.
I will admit it. All the activities that I do, I do because I love them. I don’t just seek out hobbies so I have something to do. I have a lot of interests, and I like to try new things. I want to be able to do it all. But, at some point, I need to take a step back and determine what my real priorities are. And when I determine what my top priorities are, I need to learn to let go of those things that contradict my goals. I am not saying that this is going to be easy. I do not want to give up any of my activities and projects. But, while I’m working on shedding the pounds, I want to shed some excess weights from my life, too.
So, if you see me hanging onto a ball of thread or a new book on gardening like I’m going to lose it forever, it’s probably because I’m trying to figure out if I should let it go. I expect the stress of breaking up. It’s never easy to do with anyone OR anything. But, once something is shed, the weightlessness that comes with it is so freeing.
I’ll be posting as I go along this journey, but I would encourage anyone who needs some direction in life to check out the book* that I’ve been reading. It comes from a fitness expert, but is geared toward life changes, not just weight changes.
I’m on the first step of setting goals and priorities for my life. It’s not too hard to come up with what is most important, but it is hard to see that I haven’t really been focused on it at all.

*PUSH by Chalene Johnson

Positive power

Today was my flight home from visiting extended family in Iowa. Well, it was supposed to be my flight home. The weather all across the Midwest is horrible, and my flight into Chicago was delayed. Not delayed in the kind of way where they tell you before you get on the plane. No, the kind of delayed that would normally send me spiraling into anxious rants and raves.

I flew here with my 18 month old last week, meeting up with my older girls and parents who took the train from upstate NY. So, today, we all split up again to head back home. I had chosen an airport an hour and a half away to save a couple hundred on flight costs, so we loaded up in my aunt's car at 7:30am and drove into Illinois. Everything was on time, so my aunt got me as far as the security checkpoint and we said goodbye.

I timed everything perfectly. We boarded last so we had time to let my toddler burn off some energy. We slid into our seats, got out the blanket, snack, drink, Elmo doll, and book. We tucked everything else away. The kind but obviously not wanting to sit next to a mom and toddler business man moved seats so I could have the row to myself. The flight attendant secured the cabin and we prepared to push back from the gate. And nothing happened. Then, the announcement came. We were going nowhere. Flights were cancelled and connections would be missed. We had to pack up our stuff and de-plane.

Surprisingly, though, everyone on the flight seemed to take it well. There were smiles and many, many offers to help me get my little one back into the airport. She giggled and waved at everyone and amused them by going through her vocabulary of animal sounds. So, I thought, what a perfect opportunity for me to practice turning things around.

Normally, this is where I melt down. I get crabby. I blame everyone else for my difficulties and then wallow in self-pity. So, instead, I focused on the positive.

Long line at ticket counter? More time to find a place to sit with Sophie and linger over our coffee and milk.

An hour to kill while waiting for reservations to find another flight? Time to let her run wild in the semi-empty end of the terminal.

And when my option meant calling my family to come back to get me? No flights until tomorrow? One more day to spend with my toddler and one more chance to see family I see so infrequently.

My new flight is at another airport? It's closer! And the only seats left are premium? Ok by me!

Of course, I now have a toddler, and extra night stay with my luggage already on a plane. Problem? Not when there is a place nearby to buy a new outfit and a pack of diapers! An excuse to go shopping!

The best part, though, is that my family was excited to see me again. Everyone showed back up to have dinner together. Sophie got to play with her 2 year old cousin for one more night. I have one more day to spend focusing on my baby who is growing up too fast.

I am sad not to be with my husband tonight. I am frustrated that I'm missing another day of work. But, I turned the situation around and made today another day to smile. Another day to laugh. Another day to focus on being a happier me!

Dream

Yesterday was a beautiful day, so my girls and their second cousins headed outside for some much needed fresh air. They played for a while with hula hoops and balls but eventually decided to climb a tree on the edge of the property. My eight year old and her cousin hopped up into the fork of the tree, but my 6 year old wanted more of a challenge.

Alayna is my hippie child. She loves to dress up in frills and jewels, but she's happiest during the summer when she can run barefoot through the grass. Most nice days you will find her swinging or meandering down the street in search of rocks, sticks, or other treasures. She loves to pick "wildflowers," so watch your landscaping if you live in our neighborhood!

She spent a few minutes climbing up what we always called "a good climbing tree" but even the challenge of the taller branches wasn't what she was after. She propped herself in that elevated perch and surveyed her options. It didn't take long. She spotted a tree trunk left at the back edge of the yard by a casualty of a storm that had felled the tree that once stood there. A quick jump out of the tree later, and she was off and running across the yard to greet her new challenge.

The stump was tall and had few footholds. She walked around it and searched for options. She was determined. At the base of the other trees in the yard, she found some thick branches. One by one, she dragged them to the trunk. After each one, she balanced atop them to see if it raised her up enough to grab hold of the top of the trunk.

My sister and I were standing guard in case of injury or torn dress. We asked her if she wanted to abandon her climb, but she said simply:
"I'm not going to give up. Miss Suppa (her teacher) said if I really want to learn something, I have to keep trying...I can't give up!" Nicely, we explained that she could modify her goal and use the (much lower) trunk just a few feet away...or let us lift her. She just replied "that's not what I want to learn! I want to climb this one!"

And she did. A few minutes later, she sat atop the trunk grinning, raising her hands up in a cheer, and letting out a loud whoop! I snapped her picture to include in her vacation journal and as I did, I noticed the word on her dress.

DREAM

As adults, do we forget our dreams, or do we still chase them? How much effort do we put into them? And do we let others discourage us from what we really want?

If we really want something, we should chase that dream. We should make those goals. We should develop a plan that sacrifices nothing from our priorities. Our plan may change from time to time, but that should be our own doing. Time changes what we want in life, but life or time should not impede what we want. If you need help organizing your goals to get there, look for help.

NEVER GIVE UP

Live the life you were meant to live. Love your life and do what makes you happy. And always be you.

Find your tree and climb it.

Packing forty-six pounds

Forty-six pounds. That's how much my suitcase weighed before my trip this week. I was testing it out on my own home scale by lifting it into the scale with me and subtracting my weight. When I lifted it, I was shocked by how heavy it was. I was even more shocked that it weighed almost exactly how much I would like to lose of my own body fat. (My ultimate goal is 48 pounds.) No wonder I've been exhausted the past couple if years...I've been lugging around a 46 pound suitcase!

I've been working on attaining a healthy body weight for a while now and it's been very slow. It's been going down, though, so I've kept up with each little habit and tried to add new ones as I'm able. Truthfully, the eating part hasn't been too hard. I already eat pretty healthy, so I just had to tweak a few small things to see a significant change in how I felt. And that's the important part to me. I don't care what I look like to anyone else as long as I'm healthy and strong, but I am feeling less than strong right now. I'm feeling tired, overworked, and sluggish. Some days I can barely get out of bed. It takes every ounce of effort to keep a positive attitude at work so by the time I get home I'm cranky and miserable. That's not fair to my family or to my inner sense of peace.
I'm used to juggling, and while I know I'm really busy for a mom of 3, I know that if I were healthier I would not only look better on the outside but I would feel better on the inside.

I started my exercise program back up, knowing that I always feel better when I hit the gym regularly. I was able to squeeze in lunch break weights, after work cardio, and sometimes a short yoga video later at night. But, nothing was consistent, so neither were my results. I just needed a better routine. I needed to form a habit.

Just about that time, my soon-to-be new friend posted an opportunity for a challenge on her Facebook page: go mommy go. Commit to a few simple rules, post about my daily exercise and eating choices, give up one thing that wasn't good for me, and gain accountability in the process. It seemed like just what I needed to make my good intentions stick. I already knew from following her that she was motivating and a good role model, so I jumped at the chance.

I gave up fast food sweetened coffee and committed to just 20 minutes of daily activity. For someone who used to clock 60-120 minutes every day, this should be easy. Throw in 3 kids, a stressful full time job, and the time gets away and excuses take over. I knew what to do, but I didn't hold myself accountable to do it. This small group was going to jump in together and help each other push past the excuses and reach out with daily reminders of how important this was. Has it worked?

Two weeks in, my physical body is a few pounds lighter. I don't crave sugary dessert as much as a handful of almonds or a protein shake. I can do more push-ups and I can climb to the 4th floor without getting as winded.

But, the true change isn't something I can see on the outside. In my heart, I feel blessed to have met some of these supportive women. They are willing to share their successes, but also their honesty with their failures. We all learn from each other and I am better for it. My mind is also changing. The knowledge I have is great, but the mental shift in my attitude is better. Nothing can stop me from getting in my 20-30 minutes of daily activity. I want to share my success and bring others along for the ride. I want to get rid of this 46 pound suitcase and replace it with a small satchel of motivation and sunny disposition.

Now, if anyone could tell me how to take a photo of my soul, I'd be ready to post my "after" picture.

When Did I Get Like This?

When Did I Get Like This: The Beginning of Motherhood

If this sounds like the title of a biography about a stressed out mom who isn't quite sure how to balance her old life with her new, it is.  And it's not writen by me, but it could be.  I just bought it last night for my nook.  And she had me with the first chapter.  The chapter about how it all began: the admission to the fact that she's always been a planner, a perfectionist, and extremely hard on myself" could have been stolen right from my mouth.  Honestly, I think that this personality can be an advantage in a young adult life.  It breeds a good work ethic and forces a girl to yearn for greater things.  Dreams are good.

If I were to say anything about myself, it would be that I am not a quitter.  If I want something bad enough, I won't stop until I get it.  And I won't cheat to get it, either.  I work hard, I work smart, and I try to do it right.  But, I won't let anyone tell me I can't do something.  That only makes me want it more.  My Junior year in high school, my French teacher announced they would take a select group to France and England during Spring Break.  When I dragged my parents to the local pizza place to hear the "parental" presentation, they encouraged me to earn my own way.  I'm not sure if they actually expected me to do it, but I worked all through the school year, and eventually (with a little help in the end, and their full support!) I was on a flight to Paris with a bunch of high school students and two teachers. 

How then, did I survive the 16 months when we were dreaming of starting a family and it just wasn't going our way?  I think, looking back, it was the most emotionally tormented time of my life.  Wanting something that badly, and having it be totally out of my control...or was it?  I think this is where mommy obsession began.  It was when mama started wanting it all...

I did eventually become pregnant with my first child, and with it came a sense of peace and calm.  No.  Wait.  That didn't happen. 

I did eventually become pregnant with my first child, and I began to unravel.  That's more like it.  Suddenly, my personality took over.  I needed the best of the best and I wanted to be the best of the best.  I read all the books, and I was even promoted to moderator of the "Due in November" forums on the internet.  I studied yoga for pregnany, I bought the belly cream that the celebrities used to reduce stretch marks, and I even started relaxing to hypnosis. 

What I didn't do when I got pregnant was celebrate.  It was odd, actually.  Most women who are "trying" to get pregnant get to plan out that revealing moment.  The loving dinner with their spouse where they do something wildly creative and wait for the teary eyed moment where they can bond over their growing love.  Not so with the infertility couple.  Nope.  By this time, I had used up a case of pregnancy tests.  At one point, I had a faulty test: one in which even the control line failed.  I was so angry. Beyond devastated.  It had been building inside me until I felt like a bomb would go off.  So, I took that faulty test outside, put it on my concrete patio...and beat it to smithereens with a hammer.  Then I called the company, who sent me a box of free tests.  I used the whole box the following month.  So, when that faint line actually showed up on the pregnancy test, did I jump for joy?  Not exactly.  Did I call everyone and share the good news?  Eh...um...no.  I took another one.  And another one.  One of each brand I could find, actually.  I called my obstetrician (on a Sunday...one of the perks of being an OB nurse) and asked if there was any possibility that the line might be a false positive.  I had, after all, been on hormones to increase my chances.  I kept all those tests, too.  I lined them up several times a day and stared at them, wondering if the lines were going to disappear.  I arranged them in order, from lightest to darkest, and then I'd file them back in the box in the bathroom and try to conjure up some happiness.

I did reveal the big news to my closest friends...well, to everyone actually.  Everyone knew I was going through procedures, and my cycles were well known to all, as my mood was reflective of them.  So, when the normal dip and rise of my happiness didn't change, they knew.  So, we told them.  We talked about our little Turkey, who was expected to arrive on Thanksgiving, and we smiled and made plans for our future.  But, inside, I was numb.  I wanted to be happy.  I wanted to jump up and down and shout to the world: I.  MADE.  A.  BABY !!!   But, I wasn't sure how.  It was the best moment of my life, and I couldn't be totally happy.  As the author of the previously mentioned book puts it perfectly in perspective: "Infertility robs you of many things along the way, but the last thing it steals from you is the ability to celebrate being pregnant."  I was afraid.  Afraid of how much effort had gone into what we had done to get this far.  Afraid of the strain it had put on our new marriage.  Afraid of something going wrong when it had finally gone right.  Afraid of not being able to be the mother I wanted to be.  And so it began.  My life as a mother.  Not the start I had longed for, but a slow exhale and the tiniest seed of hope began to grow.

Broke

Broke is having to dig through your car to come up with $2.25 in change to buy one small carton of sour cream at the grocery store (to go with the leftover chicken to make fajitas for dinner). Why is this the hardest subject for me to write about? I can blog about my weight, my failures at organizing my house, and even post about the bumper of my car that is now tied on with string. But, the biggest taboo seems to be money. No one wants to talk about the situation they are in, where the money comes from, or what it is spent on. It’s important. Money doesn’t buy happiness, but it’s necessary for anything we can’t provide for ourselves.  I can provide a lot for myself, but I'm a far cry from being a literal homesteader.

 

At midnight tonight, when my car payment is withdrawn from my bank account, I will have a whopping $5.63 to last me the next 2 days until my paycheck clears. I have no credit cards. We cut those up last summer when we saw our financial status crumble before our eyes. I’ve already (at 38 years old!) borrowed money from my parents just to allow my car payment to go through on time. I’ve calculated exactly how many miles I can drive without filling my gas tank to know if I will actually be able to make it to work and home again tomorrow. I have a good paying, steady job with benefits. How does this happen? 

 

I wish I could blame the $10,000 loss we took on the sale of our home when we moved. I wish I could point the finger at the medical bills we accrued from my husband’s diabetes, my daughter’s seasonal respiratory issues, or my horrific third pregnancy. I can’t even think about the year we went without real insurance for my husband because the premiums were too high. The fact of the matter is, though, the situation I face is my own lack of adaptability to the current circumstances. We’ve been through layoffs, we’ve added kids to the mix, and my husband spent 4 years going back to school. Our income went down, but instead of changing our lifestyle, we tried to find a cheaper way to keep it up. Should I tell you how well that worked? In spite of falling just shy of frugal, I still accrued more stuff than I needed, spent too many dinners in a restaurant, and was just plain careless with the belongnings I accrued. 

 

I won’t go into all the details on what we finally did, but when the credit cards met the scissors, I vowed to never look back. It hasn’t been quite a year since we made the decision to start the financial chapter of our lives over again, and we struggle with choices and plans. But, overall, I know we made the right choice. Today, though, I have nothing to fall back on. I’m trying to rebuild a savings account, save for retirement, and plan for emergencies. I’m writing, reviewing, and rewriting budgets constantly. We make mistakes, fall down, and have to pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off again. What I want to make clear, though, is that I feel better now than I ever did before. 

 

Last year at this time, I had no idea how I’d ever pay the next bill to come in. I would use the card that I had sworn never to pick up again and then calculate just how long it would take to pay it off (and how much it would really cost). I had such anxiety that I felt as though I had a concrete block on my chest. It was a life altering year as we looked at our past and planned for our future.  Now, I try to only buy what we need.  I don't always succeed.  I'm still a sucker for a good sale, and I love to buy new things.  But, when it comes right down to it, it's now a matter of healthy food on the table or fixing the bumber on my car.  I can't just charge what I can't pay for now, and if I spend too much now, I will run out later. 

 

Do I still feel stressed about money?  Yes.  Do I wish I had a credit card to fall back on?  No.  It takes constant review of our accounts to stay on top of it all...what is coming in and what is scheduled to go out.  Still, I don't feel the same sense of dread that used to come over me when I reviewed my finances at the end of the month.  Knowing I was in a hole and needed someone with a strong rope to lift me out.  Someone finally did throw a rope in for me. (Actually, it was several people who helped us turn things around.) I grabbed on tight, swung around a few times as I was lifted up, slipped once or twice, but made it out and I never plan on taking that path again.

 

Note: As a testament to how difficult it is to write about money and my shortcomings in dealing with it, I wrote this blog 2 weeks ago.  I am just now able to take a deep breath and publish it.  Just as I was counting the miles to the next empty gas tank, I realized I would be 3 miles short of getting home.  A co-worker loaned me $20 to put gas in my tank.  The day after I had only $5.63 in my bank account, I had 2 reimbursement checks and 2 paychecks (mine and my husbands) hit the account at the same time.  I felt like celebrating, and it took all I had not to go out and spend a good chunk of the change.  But, I hope that this year, that's the last time I have to ask my parents for a 2 day loan.  I hope I don't have to count the miles until my car runs out of gas, and I hope that instead of borrowing, next year, I will be saving for the future. 

 

The Incredible Shrinking Katie

The Incredible Shrinking Katie

I always wanted to start a fitness blog and give it the above title. But, the truth of the matter is, I do not think any blog I am prepared to write now would be incredible. Nor am I shrinking in any sense of the word. I’ve always fought to keep my weight down. I would never call myself terribly overweight, and I have a fairly good body image in spite of the extra pounds. However, I’m feeling rather uncomfortable in my own skin. I can’t do as much as I once could without effort, and I find that I constantly feel tired and run down. So, it’s time to put a plan in action.

Can I do it? I used to be a weightlifter. I could out-lift many of the men in my gym. I worked hard at it. I went to the gym regularly; no matter what time I got out of work. I would go at 4am if I had to, and I would go at 10:00 at night. Of course, I wasn’t waking up with a toddler every night or wrestling 2 young girls in and out of bed. I’m tired. And most gyms charge an arm and a leg for childcare. So, that leaves…when? Lunch break? Midnight? Ugh.

I was also a student of Ashtanga Yoga for several years. I had a private instructor and I could twist myself up into a nice tiny pretzel. Now, I’m lucky if I can bend over and reach my feet. What happened to my flexibility? Can I get that back, too?

I suppose what I looked for in my 20s is not what I’m looking for in my (upper) 30s. I really don’t care how thin I am. I have no problem telling people how much I weigh (179.6 this morning). I will be happy to model a swimsuit for you. I am what I am and I’m not ashamed.

But, I would like to be a model of health for my children. It used to be something I was proud of. I worked for what I had and I liked to help others work for their goals. So, here’s my plan:

I plan to turn into The Incredible Strengthening Katie. Forget the shrinking. Forget the number on the scale. I’m going to (God willing) find time to go to the gym. I’m going to lift some weights. I’m going to get stronger, healthier, and fit. I’m going to show my children that I care about how I treat my body. Then, I’m going to go home and stretch those strong muscles. I’m going to practice my sun salutations and work my way toward reaching the bottom of my feet again during a forward bend. I’m going to buy an extra yoga mat and practice WITH my children. We are going to share in the joy of a healthy body and mind together. And we are going to show ourselves just how strong we can be. Om.