Mommy Diaries

Men just don’t get it.

This morning I inform my husband, “I’m going to paint my toenails tonight…” (we are going out for a friend’s birthday, but considering we’ve got a five month old, any night that celebrates someone else is a date night for us)…

He says to me, “Why?”

Now, a little background on me. I’m not much of a girly-girl, although my husband says I’ve got more girl in me than I think I do. I don’t normally have painted toenails or fingernails. I don’t wear makeup. Lately washing my hair has become a luxury, because my baby doesn’t seem to think that Mommy needs clean hair. I guess in this respect I’m “fashion forward”, because I’ve read recently it’s better to NOT wash your hair every day. If this is the case, I’m the most fashionable Mom around.

He asks me this question, and I go into a little tirade…

“Look. I need to tell you something. Yesterday I didn’t shower until just a few minutes before you got home. I haven’t washed my hair in three days. I’ve had my hair in a ponytail for so long, there’s a big lump in the back where the ponytail holder has molded itself into my hair. I wore work out jogging pants out of the house to run errands, along with a baggy over-sized sweatshirt that Nolan eventually spit up all over. Lately I’ve felt dumpy, and fat, and just downright ugly. We are going on a DATE NIGHT. I get to look pretty! I get to wash my hair and have some time to style it! I get to smell nice, and by God, if I want to paint my toenails, I… WILL… DO…. IT.”

He’s quiet for a moment. Then he says:

“You might be all of those things, but I always think you are the most beautiful woman…”

Now, how do I respond to something like that?????

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Legendary?

I have joined a fantastic group of ladies, who are involved in a weekly blog project. Every Thursday, we will dazzle you with our insight on various topics. And each week, we take turns coming up with the idea for the blog topic. Please check out their blogs as well, listed under my Blogroll section. Just click on:

Froggie (Tracey): An experiment in knitting, writing- and life

Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.

Mom Of Many (Susanna): One Mom’s perspective on life, raising kids, knitting and other unrelated topics.

This week, Melissa was up to bat, and came up with a doozy:
“Tell us about an experience that was legendary for you”

I had no clue. I tried, but couldn’t think of anything legendary. So Sunday morning, I was talking it over with my husband, and I asked him what he would consider legendary. Right away, with no hesitation he tells me, “The fact that you had two pregnancies where you delivered naturally, no epidural.”

I never considered this a legendary thing. But in my husband’s eyes, he felt it was, and I could hear real pride in his voice when he told me this.

When we arrived at the hospital for Nolan’s delivery, I informed the nurse that he would be delivered au naturel. No pain meds. No epidural. No pitocin. I was waiting for her to try to talk me out of it, but she didn’t. She told me that statistically, 90% of women use epidurals and most choose to, even before they get to the hospital, even before it’s medically relevant. She was very supportive of my decision, and I was treated with the upmost respect. As though I was a war hero about to embark on a very long, arduous journey. Which, was pretty accurate. After Nolan was born, and nurses would come in to assist me, they would often compliment me on the hard work I put in. No one laughed or made fun of the noises I made during my eight hours of labor (they could hear me all the way at the nurses station, and my room was the last one down a long hallway).

I really did feel as though I did something important. Something truly special.

Now, I know women who have delivered naturally, others who had C-sections (emergency or not), still others who knew before going in that they were getting an epidural. All our babies were born healthy. I’m not downplaying those experiences. To each his own.

For me though, I had set out to accomplish this, and it felt good knowing that I could, and that I did.

Stairs

I work as a leasing specialist for an apartment community. As you’d imagine, I show apartments, deal with residents, take care of leasing documentation, file, etc. etc.

But, I’m what I affectionately call “the grunt”. Newsletters need to be delivered. Notices to residents also need to be delivered, and I’m the gal who does it. The property I work for has 144 units; four buildings, with three levels. 36 apartments in each building.

Today I made delivering newsletters a work out. I ran to each building entry (12 in all) and ran up three flights of stairs, quickly placing newsletters at resident’s doors as I went. I also ran quickly (and as quietly as I could) down each flight of stairs. I was able to accomplish this task within 20 minutes.

Once, I did it in 10.

I compare this work out to running up and down bleachers. It’s a great interval training work out, and training in 30 to 60 second bursts can be just as efficient as doing long, steady cardio workouts, and can be more effective for fat burning.

If you start getting bored with plain old running, you might want to consider heading to your local high school track, and give bleachers a try. Or, running up and down stairs in your own home.

It’s A Family Affair….

Kevin, Ben, Nolan and I went to a nearby track, and made good use of it.

Ben wanted all of us to race each other, which was great, because I wanted Kevin and I to work on some speed training.  All three of us lined up (Nolan was fast asleep in his stroller) and Ben said:

“On your mark… get set…. GO!”

We were off!!!  I told Kevin we would go as fast as we could up to the next white line, and to be honest, I have no idea how far that was.  As soon as we hit that next line, we jogged and tried to get our heart rate back down.  Ben went as far as he could, and then got tired.

Ben had Kevin and I race each other, while he sat on the bleachers and watched. Nolan slept.

Ben discovered sand pits at the end of the track, and so Kevin and I would go as fast as we could and jump into the sand.  Ben decided he’d have more fun playing in the sand than running with us, so he amused himself while Kevin and I continued to work.

Nolan slept.

I decided we should do more speed drills, so  Kevin and I would line up, and then run to the next line, and head back, and then run forward even further, and run back to the line we started at.

By this time, we knew it was time to get going.  So after a good stretch, I checked on Nolan, who by this time decided to wake and join us.

It was a fantastic morning.

You Gotta Have A Plan….

March 28th was the official start of training for the Omaha Marathon, which will be on September 25th. I don’t know about others, but for me, it’s always best to have a plan. Something to follow. I don’t feel as though I can ever just “wing it”, which may be why both Kevin and I haven’t had much progress when it comes to getting in shape.

This week has gone by fast, and worked out well for us. It’s nice to have an actual calendar to follow, and we know what to anticipate for the next day.

I highly suggest to everyone out there that if your intent is to get back into shape, or to start a fitness regimen, to look for some training ideas or suggestions online. I’ve mentioned this before, but we are following the training guide on MarathonRookie.com. There are others out there. I recently saw one in Runner’s World magazine:
http://www.runnersworld.com/subtopic/0,7123,s6-238-244-255-0,00.html

On the rest days that are indicated in my MarathonRookie training, we are doing weight training, to help to strengthen our bodies, especially with core work. I subscribe to Shape magazine, and will often tear our pages from my magazine, and save them in a binder so I have an easy reference guide to different toning work outs.

I have a feeling this will be a very fast month for us… but hopefully a fast month full of progress….

137 pounds

190 pounds

OOPS

So, usually on the first of every month, Kevin and I take a picture of each other, and post it for all to see, along with our stats (well, our weight). So, people can see the progress we are making.

And I completely forgot. I was checking out a picture of a friend of mine on Facebook, who has become incredibly ripped, and was showing off her new six pack abs (did I mention she is a mommy?) and this got me thinking about my own fitness goals. Which then led me to my blog, and how there is no update.

Oops.

Maybe I will remember tomorrow?

I’ll Have The Embarrassment With A Side Order Of Shame… To Go, Please….

I have joined a fantastic group of ladies, who are involved in a weekly blog project. Every Thursday, we will dazzle you with our insight on various topics. And each week, we take turns coming up with the idea for the blog topic. Please check out their blogs as well, listed under my Blogroll section. Just click on:

Froggie (Tracey): An experiment in knitting, writing- and life

Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.

Mom Of Many (Susanna): One Mom’s perspective on life, raising kids, knitting and other unrelated topics.

This week, it was my pick for topic of the week, and I chose: What is your most embarrassing moment?

I re-live one of mine off and on over the years. Something will happen that triggers the memory, and I am right back in the moment…

1991. I was thirteen years old. I was just beginning to understand what love was. Ok, maybe I won’t go that far. More like, what a crush was. I had my first hardcore crush on a boy named Jorge. To me, he was the most beautiful person in the entire world. I even remember to this day how his caramel colored eyes looked in the sunlight. I used to imagine what it would be like to get a kiss from Jorge. I wanted him to be my first kiss.

He wanted nothing to do with me. I was a year younger than him, which in teen years equates to like, FIVE years. I was all angles and awkward, and a big tomboy. I loved to play sports and go camping and fishing. When we played basketball, he’d always pick me to be on his team, but there was no way he’s want me to be anything more than just a teammate, or a friend. And I am sure if we were older he’d think I was super cool for being into sports, but at that age, he was looking for a girl who was pretty and wore makeup, and that just wasn’t me.

I was playing basketball with him one morning, during summer break. I still held out hope that he’d see me more than just a teammate, or opponent, so I would play basketball with him, get roughed up, get knocked around just like the big boys do. This particular day it was just the two of us. I was getting over a nasty cold, but that didn’t stop me.

I am dribbling the ball, my back to Jorge. This is where it goes in slow motion for me. He’s standing behind me, anticipating my move. He’s guarding me close. The basket is a few feet away. I pick up the ball and go to pivot on my left foot, and I feel the snot starting to ooze from my nose. I was at the “serious runny nose” stage in my cold. I turn to face the basket, and Jorge.

The snot comes flying out of my nose. I can still see the shock and fear as the yellow/green gobs smack him dead in the face. I am sure the amount in reality was minuscule, but in my 13 year old brain, it was massive. It covers his mouth and nose, and a few splatters make it to his brown hairline. We both stand there, staring at each other, me clutching the basketball for dear life, he still shocked and amazed at what just happened. I can see the boogers starting to run a little on his face. Oh God, did some go into his mouth?!?

This thought propels me off the basketball court, running full force in shame to my home, where I throw myself onto my bed and have a good cry.

I can’t remember the days after that incident. I don’t know how we dealt with that moment. I only know that now, there are times where I clean up snot from my boys’ faces, and I remember my own snot covering the face of the boy I loved. And I shudder a little inside.

A Mom On The Run

GCC Creative Writing

Creative Writing at Glendale AZ Community College

Africanist, artist & woman

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