Most people associate eating disorders with those who look sickly skinny, or extremely overweight. I am neither of these, but have struggled with food for years.
Starting back in high school, I can remember developing a love for food - especially sweets. I had a rather large sweet tooth that I had no problem satisfying. However, that satisfaction was short lived when the guilt would set in. I would either cause myself to get sick shortly after, or restrict my eating for the rest of the day. Generally, I hate to "psychologize" things, but I feel okay admitting that maybe some of this was attention seeking; my parents were divorcing, I was in my first young-love relationship, and I was an immature teenager who liked attention. Either way, it was something I struggled with for years.
Once I became more athletic, I was able to better control my eating habits. I justified desserts and any other treats I allowed myself by making sure I ate healthy meals, and exercised regularly. It wasn't until after I had Hannah and began calorie counting that a different problem came about: binge eating.
Running while breastfeeding can cause you to lose your milk supply if you are not consuming the calories you burned, and this is what brought about my need for counting calories. Each day I would log all the foods I ate, along with any exercise I took part in. You would think this would keep me on track and feeling good about my eating habits, but it actually caused me to develop a pretty unhealthy mindset. I became obsessive about everything I ate, to the point where I was measuring out the exact amount of olive oil I drizzled on my salad.
On days where I would run double-digit mileage and "had" to eat an extra thousand calories, I was forcing myself to eat when I wasn't hungry. On days that I didn't exercise, I may have been craving a perfectly healthy snack, like almonds, but since they are so calorie dense, I couldn't "afford" to eat them, based on that days meal plan. This would cause me to find an alternative snacks that never satisfied my craving. I believe that your body craves things for a reason, like needing iron if you crave red meat, so when I paid more attention to my calorie intake rather than what my body was telling me, I was failing already. I would eat snack after snack, trying to fill up but stay within my budget, and this just simply never worked. I always ended up going over my calories in the end, sometimes by several hundred, just because I was stubborn and refused to have that one handful of almonds in the first place.
Food became nothing but a number to me. Bananas? 100. Almonds? 160. Chicken breast? 150. I wasn't enjoying food anymore. Even when I made the healthiest, tastiest meals, I knew the exact number I was eating. I also felt very restricted by this number, which I feel is part of my newly developed over-eating habits. If I wanted some chocolate after dinner, but didn't "plan" for it, I would either not have any, and fall right back into the never-satisfied snacking. Or, I would eat it, see that number put me over my budget, and think "well, I'm already over anyway, might as well have an extra glass of wine and maybe more chocolate, and ooh, maybe I'll make some kettle corn, too."
This always resulted in extreme guilt which lead me to be super strict with the following days food, and pushed me into a nice long, hard work out in an attempt to burn off some of what I ate. The cycle never left me feeling good about myself, despite it never affecting my weight.
After my experience with this increased, I decided to put an end to the calorie counting, and really zone into my bodies needs. I needed to develop a new relationship with food. I needed to listen to my body, not my iPhone's calorie app.
Everything I eat is clean, healthy food. It was ridiculous to restrict myself the way that I was, especially when I am not trying to lose or manage my weight. Now, I simply focus on eating. When I'm hungry, I eat. If I want dessert, I have it. If I'm craving a snack, I give in. I didn't realize how crippling the whole calorie counting thing was until I stopped. I don't feel pressured to stick to a certain number, I don't feel the need to spiral out of control if I eat one extra thing, and I can actually enjoy my food.
Sharing these struggles with my husband seemed to surprise him, since he thinks I am possibly the healthiest eater he's met. But it just goes to show you that even athletic, healthy people can still struggle with food. I am the perfect example.
It's a learning process, and I'm hoping that the more I tune into my body, I can only become healthier and happier - and I'm quite okay with both of those outcomes :)
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Monday, July 22, 2013
Divorce
As a happily married woman, it may come as a surprise that I am not necessarily against divorce. My husband and I are surrounded by it within our families, and if anything, it drives us to communicate and grow together even more - however, it has also shown me just what can lead to the demise of a relationship, and has taught me that I may not be a believer of "together forever no matter what".
Lets go back to dating. Different relationships reveal concrete things that you like, love, and hate. We use these things to move from person to person in hopes to find more of the likes and loves, and less of the hate. Once this happens, congratulations! It's your cliché moment of finding "the one". I believe there are lots of different elements that makes this the right person for you; how you are treated, the support you receive, the love they show, common interests, loyalty - to name a few generics.
In the successful marriage, the couple changes and grows together, not apart. But what happens when one or two of the major elements, the ones that sparked your love for this person in the first place, changes for the worse? Or what happens if one spouse's maturity alters appropriately with life's changes, such as the addition of children, and the other does not? And then there are the more serious scenarios, such as becoming unfaithful or abusive. What then?
Of course, the idea of marriage is to work through anything and everything - together. But the one thing in life you get to be selfish about your own happiness. If one person in the marriage has given up, stopped supporting, treated you poorly, and headed in a totally different direction (never mind raising a hand to their spouse) - I can't say I sit here and agree that the willing spouse should stay in that marriage, totally miserable, just because "it's for better or worse". You can only be the best person you can be - for your husband, your kids, and most importantly, yourself - if you are happy. As much as I'd hate (and have hated) to see a marriage fall apart, I've also seen the happiness and growth that can consequently follow a divorce as well.
Fight your ass off for your love and marriage, but when all options have been exhausted, wave your white flag. Get happy.
:) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)
This has been written in thanks for those who have had the strength to fight, but even more strength to move on and bring peace and happiness to their families and own lives. And also for anyone struggling <3
Eric and I are in the very beginning of our forever-journey together, and I can only hope that's exactly what it turns out to be. I am thankful for our daily happiness, and for the communication and growth we share together. I am also thankful for past relationships to have guided me to know exactly what I deserved, and for mistakes we have witnessed and hope to learn from. Divorce is a scary word when you are happily married, but it does exist. Our gloves are up.
Lets go back to dating. Different relationships reveal concrete things that you like, love, and hate. We use these things to move from person to person in hopes to find more of the likes and loves, and less of the hate. Once this happens, congratulations! It's your cliché moment of finding "the one". I believe there are lots of different elements that makes this the right person for you; how you are treated, the support you receive, the love they show, common interests, loyalty - to name a few generics.
In the successful marriage, the couple changes and grows together, not apart. But what happens when one or two of the major elements, the ones that sparked your love for this person in the first place, changes for the worse? Or what happens if one spouse's maturity alters appropriately with life's changes, such as the addition of children, and the other does not? And then there are the more serious scenarios, such as becoming unfaithful or abusive. What then?
Of course, the idea of marriage is to work through anything and everything - together. But the one thing in life you get to be selfish about your own happiness. If one person in the marriage has given up, stopped supporting, treated you poorly, and headed in a totally different direction (never mind raising a hand to their spouse) - I can't say I sit here and agree that the willing spouse should stay in that marriage, totally miserable, just because "it's for better or worse". You can only be the best person you can be - for your husband, your kids, and most importantly, yourself - if you are happy. As much as I'd hate (and have hated) to see a marriage fall apart, I've also seen the happiness and growth that can consequently follow a divorce as well.
Fight your ass off for your love and marriage, but when all options have been exhausted, wave your white flag. Get happy.
:) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)
This has been written in thanks for those who have had the strength to fight, but even more strength to move on and bring peace and happiness to their families and own lives. And also for anyone struggling <3
Eric and I are in the very beginning of our forever-journey together, and I can only hope that's exactly what it turns out to be. I am thankful for our daily happiness, and for the communication and growth we share together. I am also thankful for past relationships to have guided me to know exactly what I deserved, and for mistakes we have witnessed and hope to learn from. Divorce is a scary word when you are happily married, but it does exist. Our gloves are up.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Making Friends - Awkward!
When I first moved to Fairhaven, the only people I knew were my husband's family. I was 21 with an 18 month old, and struggled to make friends of my own. Everyone my age had a very active social life filled with bar hopping and drug dabbling - neither of which I could partake in my situation. My fiancé (at the time) and his mother would talk to friends and pretty much set up "dates" for me - appreciated, but awkward. Before I moved, I had lived in Worcester my entire life. I grew up with the same group of friends, that naturally morphed into more friends as we transitioned through school. Now, in my 20s and in a new town for the first time ever, I realized just how strange the concept of making friends as an adult really is - especially in my case.
Ideally, I wanted to friend people my age, but since their typical day was likely not spent at a playground or watching Mickey Mouse Club House, I would tend to seek out other mothers - and since the majority of them didn't have their first child at age 20, they were generally older than me. I set up play-dates with mothers I would meet at the local gym, library, or playgrounds, and faked my way through small talk while our little ones ran around together. These moms are what my husband and I refer to as "fake friends"; someone you get together with not because you necessarily want to, but because it's better than nothing, and was beneficial to your child. However, as time went on and I became more involved with the community, Eric's friends, and exercising, I developed some real friends - who I liked and hung out with regardless of their age, marital status, or number of children.
As a young(er) adult, I was primarily friends with guys. But making new guy friends as a married, adult women is next to impossible. I had thought about approaching guys at the gym and seeking out running partners or even a married/taken guy to double date with - but how do you even go about that? If some guy came up to me in the gym - married or not - and asked me about going for a run, there's no way I wouldn't think I was being hit on. And then there's another issue: play dates with other kids - and their dads. You think this would be a "safe-zone"; someone who is married, looking for friendship for themselves and playmates for their kids - just like me! But when I asked my husband about his comfort with this potential situation, I was surprised to hear that it's not something he'd be cool with. However, when he asked me to flip-flop the situation and think of him having play dates with some woman and her kids who I didn't know, I had to admit I wasn't comfortable with the idea, either.
So how the hell do you make more friends when most people your age are in a totally different stage in their lives, and you don't want to cross any lines of inappropriateness with your spouse? I suppose this is one of the reasons I was eager to get a part-time job: at least there is hope for co-workers you will like!
Making friends; such a strange concept.
Ideally, I wanted to friend people my age, but since their typical day was likely not spent at a playground or watching Mickey Mouse Club House, I would tend to seek out other mothers - and since the majority of them didn't have their first child at age 20, they were generally older than me. I set up play-dates with mothers I would meet at the local gym, library, or playgrounds, and faked my way through small talk while our little ones ran around together. These moms are what my husband and I refer to as "fake friends"; someone you get together with not because you necessarily want to, but because it's better than nothing, and was beneficial to your child. However, as time went on and I became more involved with the community, Eric's friends, and exercising, I developed some real friends - who I liked and hung out with regardless of their age, marital status, or number of children.
As a young(er) adult, I was primarily friends with guys. But making new guy friends as a married, adult women is next to impossible. I had thought about approaching guys at the gym and seeking out running partners or even a married/taken guy to double date with - but how do you even go about that? If some guy came up to me in the gym - married or not - and asked me about going for a run, there's no way I wouldn't think I was being hit on. And then there's another issue: play dates with other kids - and their dads. You think this would be a "safe-zone"; someone who is married, looking for friendship for themselves and playmates for their kids - just like me! But when I asked my husband about his comfort with this potential situation, I was surprised to hear that it's not something he'd be cool with. However, when he asked me to flip-flop the situation and think of him having play dates with some woman and her kids who I didn't know, I had to admit I wasn't comfortable with the idea, either.
So how the hell do you make more friends when most people your age are in a totally different stage in their lives, and you don't want to cross any lines of inappropriateness with your spouse? I suppose this is one of the reasons I was eager to get a part-time job: at least there is hope for co-workers you will like!
Making friends; such a strange concept.
Making It Work
Marriage is all about making it work. Anything that is thrown your way, you're in it for better or for worse, and the only thing you can do is work through it - together. Eric's new job has certainly been a true test for us.
With the 10 week training academy complete, I thought we'd be able to settle into a more manageable schedule once Eric was given his work location and schedule. We were thrilled to find out that he was placed in the county closest to our home, which cut his commute by two-thirds. To add to the excitement, I had decided I was ready to pick up a part time job; I was excited to take the first small step towards a long awaited career in health and fitness, and looked forward to getting out each week. As much as I love my girls and full-time job as a SAHM, I feel I need this time for myself, the interaction with other adults, and the extra money would just be a bonus. As Eric entered his first week of work, we were aware that the first few weeks were considered a "training" period, and that his schedule was likely to change. We struggled to adjust, but managed. After all, it would just be a few short weeks of this all-over-the-place shift change.
Psych.
The day after I sent out applications and resumes to every massage, health, and gym atmosphere Google could find me, Eric let me know that for the next 6 months his schedule would be changing weekly - with only one weeks notice beforehand. This went for his days off as well, leaving my ability to work unrealistic.
I was unbelievably bummed, and for the first time in over a year, extremely homesick. Knowing what an amazing support system I have back home - from family and friends who could help with the girls, to more job opportunities - made me feel totally stuck in the situation we're in; two young kids, in-laws who work full time, friends who work full time, a husband with an endlessly changing schedule...
This sucks.
But it's not just about me. It sucks for my husband too. One week he is on 2nd shift - getting in late and woken up early, and the next on 1st, where he barely sees the girls. Planning anything is next to impossible. And on top of it all, it's only been a few weeks and he's already had several late night calls for over-time.
We're both struggling, and need each other more than ever. We can't afford to turn this into a battle about who this is harder on, who is more tired, who works harder...it wouldn't solve anything, it wouldn't change our situation, and it certainly wouldn't help us get through it. Instead, we simply make it work. We acknowledge how we feel, but support the other. He comes home from work and knows I need help with the girls. I know he needs his down time. We both need our time to exercise. And so, we are supportive - it's a simple as that.
We make it work because we have to, but more importantly, because we want to. And it's the little things that make a huge difference; he spends time with the girls while I exercise and I'll prepare his lunch for the following day while he relaxes. Marriage is give and take; we find time for our own needs and respect those of the other. It may be a hectic time in our lives, but I have to remember that it is temporary. Soon enough, our schedule will settle down, I will be able to work, and we can finally have a reliable routine. Until then, I have no choice but to keep my head up and make the best of what we have.
Not to mention, if we survived a month of Lauren-couldn't-run-off-her-stress, everything else should be cake ;)
With the 10 week training academy complete, I thought we'd be able to settle into a more manageable schedule once Eric was given his work location and schedule. We were thrilled to find out that he was placed in the county closest to our home, which cut his commute by two-thirds. To add to the excitement, I had decided I was ready to pick up a part time job; I was excited to take the first small step towards a long awaited career in health and fitness, and looked forward to getting out each week. As much as I love my girls and full-time job as a SAHM, I feel I need this time for myself, the interaction with other adults, and the extra money would just be a bonus. As Eric entered his first week of work, we were aware that the first few weeks were considered a "training" period, and that his schedule was likely to change. We struggled to adjust, but managed. After all, it would just be a few short weeks of this all-over-the-place shift change.
Psych.
The day after I sent out applications and resumes to every massage, health, and gym atmosphere Google could find me, Eric let me know that for the next 6 months his schedule would be changing weekly - with only one weeks notice beforehand. This went for his days off as well, leaving my ability to work unrealistic.
I was unbelievably bummed, and for the first time in over a year, extremely homesick. Knowing what an amazing support system I have back home - from family and friends who could help with the girls, to more job opportunities - made me feel totally stuck in the situation we're in; two young kids, in-laws who work full time, friends who work full time, a husband with an endlessly changing schedule...
This sucks.
But it's not just about me. It sucks for my husband too. One week he is on 2nd shift - getting in late and woken up early, and the next on 1st, where he barely sees the girls. Planning anything is next to impossible. And on top of it all, it's only been a few weeks and he's already had several late night calls for over-time.
We're both struggling, and need each other more than ever. We can't afford to turn this into a battle about who this is harder on, who is more tired, who works harder...it wouldn't solve anything, it wouldn't change our situation, and it certainly wouldn't help us get through it. Instead, we simply make it work. We acknowledge how we feel, but support the other. He comes home from work and knows I need help with the girls. I know he needs his down time. We both need our time to exercise. And so, we are supportive - it's a simple as that.
We make it work because we have to, but more importantly, because we want to. And it's the little things that make a huge difference; he spends time with the girls while I exercise and I'll prepare his lunch for the following day while he relaxes. Marriage is give and take; we find time for our own needs and respect those of the other. It may be a hectic time in our lives, but I have to remember that it is temporary. Soon enough, our schedule will settle down, I will be able to work, and we can finally have a reliable routine. Until then, I have no choice but to keep my head up and make the best of what we have.
Not to mention, if we survived a month of Lauren-couldn't-run-off-her-stress, everything else should be cake ;)
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Stupid Foot
"Oh God" the young doctor (inappropriately?) said to me as he flexed my big toe with one hand and held his palm over my foot with the other. Great. "This is insane", he continued. Finally, he cut to the chase: severe tendinitis. From my big toe all the way up to my ankle and into part of my shin. Apparently, you could "feel" it. After the x-ray confirmed there were no cracks or fractures, I immediately ask about the half. The last 4 months of training is flashing through my head. "But what if I wake up next Sunday morning and feel fabulous?? Can I run??" ...I am begging. He could tell that if there was even the slightest improvement in my foot in the next 8 days, I'd be in that race.
Home with instructions to pump myself full of ibuprofen and rest/ice/elevate whenever possible, I had a decision to make. Up until this morning, I seriously debating running - pain or no pain. What's the worst that could happen? It's not a stress fracture so my foot won't break. It's already spread as far as it could. I'd rather run the half and take whatever time off afterwards to allow my foot to heal. However, the one thing the doctor did say is that he believes the inflammation was so severe that it would become unbearable and prevent me from finishing. Those words, along with the support of Eric and my dad, guided me to bag the half and take this time to allow my foot to fully heal. I've never been more disappointed. It really sucks to have worked so hard for something, taking time away from my husband and kids, and not be able to complete my goal. But on the other hand, it was amazing being able to see how far I could push my body.
Having fractured my hip in high school cross country and being told by my PT that anything over 6 miles would cause a re-fracture, completing over 11 miles in training is an accomplishment in itself. I pushed my body to its limits; giving my all in both my speed/distance work outs and cross training. I carb loaded before and protein-boosted after. I stretched and foam rolled until I swore I was inches taller. All this training won't be put to waste, since I hope to complete a half this spring. But as for this Sunday, I'll have to cheer on my dad and my husband - who took my place in the race.
Stupid, stupid foot!
Home with instructions to pump myself full of ibuprofen and rest/ice/elevate whenever possible, I had a decision to make. Up until this morning, I seriously debating running - pain or no pain. What's the worst that could happen? It's not a stress fracture so my foot won't break. It's already spread as far as it could. I'd rather run the half and take whatever time off afterwards to allow my foot to heal. However, the one thing the doctor did say is that he believes the inflammation was so severe that it would become unbearable and prevent me from finishing. Those words, along with the support of Eric and my dad, guided me to bag the half and take this time to allow my foot to fully heal. I've never been more disappointed. It really sucks to have worked so hard for something, taking time away from my husband and kids, and not be able to complete my goal. But on the other hand, it was amazing being able to see how far I could push my body.
Having fractured my hip in high school cross country and being told by my PT that anything over 6 miles would cause a re-fracture, completing over 11 miles in training is an accomplishment in itself. I pushed my body to its limits; giving my all in both my speed/distance work outs and cross training. I carb loaded before and protein-boosted after. I stretched and foam rolled until I swore I was inches taller. All this training won't be put to waste, since I hope to complete a half this spring. But as for this Sunday, I'll have to cheer on my dad and my husband - who took my place in the race.
Stupid, stupid foot!
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
My Food Struggle
Thanks to my share-all approach to social networking, it's no secret that I eat pretty darn healthy. It's also been made known that I breast feed and have an extremely limited diet because of it. My problem is that I absolutely love food. I actually enjoy having to plan out each meal, because thinking of strange but healthy concoctions to make is just fun. Unfortunately, most of the items on my "allowed to eat" list don't leave me very full, and I struggle trying to fill the void appropriately.
Because I have been racking up my running mileage, I've started keeping track of the calories I burn while exercising, and also the calories I eat throughout the day. This is because if I don't eat up to 500 extra calories a day, my milk supply would not only be lacking in nutrition, but also has the possibility of drying up. And as excited as I am about this half marathon I'm training for, nursing my baby is my number one priority right now, and so, every calorie I burn, I have to eat back - and then some.
What I hate is how much research I've done. There is a different opinion on everything, and if I could I would go back to just eating when I'm hungry and not worry about the protein-carb-fat contents. One specialist suggests eating more protein at snacks and meals to help keep you fuller longer, and another claims that the body stores extra protein as fat. Nuts have all sorts of mixed opinions; some say you can eat up to 500 calories in nuts per day before it starts to effect your weight because of their "good" fats and the way your body metabolizes and uses them, and others say to never eat more than a serving size because of their high calorie and fat content. WHAT'S A GIRL ON A LIMITED DIET TO DO? Fruits and veggies simply don't always cut it, if I eat too much protein it will allegedly turn to chub, and my serious addiction to almonds make it impossible to stick to the miniscule serving size of 1/4 cup.
Luckily as a runner, carbs are - and need to be - a huge part of my diet. Unfortunately for me, most of the carbs I love (cereal, bread, english muffins, bagels) contain milk or soy ingredients. Whole wheat pasta is still a-go, and I keep trying to find new recipes involving rolled oats, quinoa, and brown rice.
I'm stuck in such a catch-22. I need to eat enough calories to produce adequate nutrition for Hannah, but I'm so wildly limited in what I can eat. If I eat enough proteins and fats to fill me up and help rack up my calorie count, I'm getting about 3x what my body needs. If I somehow manage to fill my calorie void with fruits, veggies and whole grains, I feel starving. Other days I feel just fine but will have 600 calories to eat before bed, and basically force myself to eat when I'm not even hungry. I try to eat the same things every day, both to make sure I'm eating things that won't upset Hannah, but also to help my body adjust to such an extreme diet; but where my activity changes daily, so does my appetite.
But, with that said, and in an attempt to get back to my usual positive outlook - it's all temporary. She'll only nurse for about 5 more months, and this is all a small price to pay for what's best for my baby. 7 down, 5 to go. It's worth the struggle and effort to be able to run - something I love... and use to keep my sanity ;)
Because I have been racking up my running mileage, I've started keeping track of the calories I burn while exercising, and also the calories I eat throughout the day. This is because if I don't eat up to 500 extra calories a day, my milk supply would not only be lacking in nutrition, but also has the possibility of drying up. And as excited as I am about this half marathon I'm training for, nursing my baby is my number one priority right now, and so, every calorie I burn, I have to eat back - and then some.
What I hate is how much research I've done. There is a different opinion on everything, and if I could I would go back to just eating when I'm hungry and not worry about the protein-carb-fat contents. One specialist suggests eating more protein at snacks and meals to help keep you fuller longer, and another claims that the body stores extra protein as fat. Nuts have all sorts of mixed opinions; some say you can eat up to 500 calories in nuts per day before it starts to effect your weight because of their "good" fats and the way your body metabolizes and uses them, and others say to never eat more than a serving size because of their high calorie and fat content. WHAT'S A GIRL ON A LIMITED DIET TO DO? Fruits and veggies simply don't always cut it, if I eat too much protein it will allegedly turn to chub, and my serious addiction to almonds make it impossible to stick to the miniscule serving size of 1/4 cup.
Luckily as a runner, carbs are - and need to be - a huge part of my diet. Unfortunately for me, most of the carbs I love (cereal, bread, english muffins, bagels) contain milk or soy ingredients. Whole wheat pasta is still a-go, and I keep trying to find new recipes involving rolled oats, quinoa, and brown rice.
I'm stuck in such a catch-22. I need to eat enough calories to produce adequate nutrition for Hannah, but I'm so wildly limited in what I can eat. If I eat enough proteins and fats to fill me up and help rack up my calorie count, I'm getting about 3x what my body needs. If I somehow manage to fill my calorie void with fruits, veggies and whole grains, I feel starving. Other days I feel just fine but will have 600 calories to eat before bed, and basically force myself to eat when I'm not even hungry. I try to eat the same things every day, both to make sure I'm eating things that won't upset Hannah, but also to help my body adjust to such an extreme diet; but where my activity changes daily, so does my appetite.
But, with that said, and in an attempt to get back to my usual positive outlook - it's all temporary. She'll only nurse for about 5 more months, and this is all a small price to pay for what's best for my baby. 7 down, 5 to go. It's worth the struggle and effort to be able to run - something I love... and use to keep my sanity ;)
Monday, January 14, 2013
The "Gotta Do It" Attitude
Attitude is everything - a saying that I've heard countless times from countless sources, but oh how true it is. You truly are in full control of your mind, and it's funny how a change of attitude can completely alter your outlook.
Nearly 3 years ago when I began realizing how unhappy I was with Lyla's father, the thought of leaving plagued my mind with nothing but negative thoughts. "I'll have to move back home" "I'll have to do it all on my own" - these thoughts kept me there longer than I wanted to be. Until one day it just clicked - "I gotta do it" I told myself. From that day forward, that's exactly what I did - moved forward and just did what I had to do. I never sulked in how much more difficult things may have temporarily been, because this was my decision and I simply had to do what I had to do.
Fast forward 3 years when my husband is changing careers, and I'm put back into a similar mindset situation. When Eric began the application process to become a CO, I pretty much put the thought on the back burner, knowing that it took months - even up to a year - for the process to be completed. As paperwork and tests slowly but surely were checked off the list, reality started to come into play. I was totally and utterly negative about the whole thing. Knowing he'd be low on the totem pole, working nights and weekends, and commuting at least 30 minutes each way daily, SUCKED. It was hard to think of having our nightly family dinners and time together after the girls were in bed, come to an end.
An end of the year budget put a temporary freeze on the hiring, and we didn't know how long it would last. But then Eric got the call that he had been accepted into the academy. The excitement in his voice was infectious. I knew right then and there I had to stop thinking of myself, thinking of what would be harder, and simply be a supportive wife, and change my attitude. This change became much easier when we found out his academy would be second shift, allowing time for my exercise in the morning (no more headlamp night runs!), and having Eric home with us for 2 meals instead of 1, even if he would miss dinner. I also focused on the extra time I could have with Lyla after Hannah was in bed - time that was preciously mine and Eric's before, that I could now put to use giving Lyla a little TLC; reading books, chatting in bed, or watching a show. And, for the first time since Hannah has been born, this schedule will buy me back a little "me" time. I can go to bed at 7pm with my kids if I want, and not feel guilty about missing out on time with hubby, I can pick up a book for the first time in months, watch a movie, or simply catch up on stuff around the apartment that I never seem to get to. You don't realize how precious time is until you have kids, and even more so once you have two. It may seem like these are small things to get excited about, but it's enough to fuel a positive mindset to create my own happiness and be there for my husband.
So yes, dinner-bath-bed time are mine to tackle alone, and the endless task of getting Hannah to bed, and back to bed, and back to bed again, are mine as well. But I'm up to the challenge, and that same empowering feeling I had 3 years ago... I just gotta do it.
Nearly 3 years ago when I began realizing how unhappy I was with Lyla's father, the thought of leaving plagued my mind with nothing but negative thoughts. "I'll have to move back home" "I'll have to do it all on my own" - these thoughts kept me there longer than I wanted to be. Until one day it just clicked - "I gotta do it" I told myself. From that day forward, that's exactly what I did - moved forward and just did what I had to do. I never sulked in how much more difficult things may have temporarily been, because this was my decision and I simply had to do what I had to do.
Fast forward 3 years when my husband is changing careers, and I'm put back into a similar mindset situation. When Eric began the application process to become a CO, I pretty much put the thought on the back burner, knowing that it took months - even up to a year - for the process to be completed. As paperwork and tests slowly but surely were checked off the list, reality started to come into play. I was totally and utterly negative about the whole thing. Knowing he'd be low on the totem pole, working nights and weekends, and commuting at least 30 minutes each way daily, SUCKED. It was hard to think of having our nightly family dinners and time together after the girls were in bed, come to an end.
An end of the year budget put a temporary freeze on the hiring, and we didn't know how long it would last. But then Eric got the call that he had been accepted into the academy. The excitement in his voice was infectious. I knew right then and there I had to stop thinking of myself, thinking of what would be harder, and simply be a supportive wife, and change my attitude. This change became much easier when we found out his academy would be second shift, allowing time for my exercise in the morning (no more headlamp night runs!), and having Eric home with us for 2 meals instead of 1, even if he would miss dinner. I also focused on the extra time I could have with Lyla after Hannah was in bed - time that was preciously mine and Eric's before, that I could now put to use giving Lyla a little TLC; reading books, chatting in bed, or watching a show. And, for the first time since Hannah has been born, this schedule will buy me back a little "me" time. I can go to bed at 7pm with my kids if I want, and not feel guilty about missing out on time with hubby, I can pick up a book for the first time in months, watch a movie, or simply catch up on stuff around the apartment that I never seem to get to. You don't realize how precious time is until you have kids, and even more so once you have two. It may seem like these are small things to get excited about, but it's enough to fuel a positive mindset to create my own happiness and be there for my husband.
So yes, dinner-bath-bed time are mine to tackle alone, and the endless task of getting Hannah to bed, and back to bed, and back to bed again, are mine as well. But I'm up to the challenge, and that same empowering feeling I had 3 years ago... I just gotta do it.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Half Marathon!
3 miles has always been my comfort zone when it comes to running. Starting with cross country in high school and continuing all the way up to a few months ago, I always felt satisfied with my work out as long as I ran a good 5k; until recently when I ran 4, then 5, then 6, and now 7 miles with the same minute-mile and with minor difficulty. Basically, I realized that yes, I'm a beast.
A half marathon has always been a distant goal for me, and I pretty much just made excuses for myself as to why "right now" wasn't the right time. Some excuses I'd like to think were legit, like knee surgeries and having babies. But otherwise I sort of just basked in the boo-hoo's of my poor mechanics and told myself the 13.1 wasn't possible. Well, now having 7 miles under my belt at a 7:15 minute-mile pace, I'm starting to see just how possible it is. From here on out, all I can do is be smart about my training, adjust it as necessary to my bum knees & hip, and hope for an injury-free course to the race.
Later, 5k.
A half marathon has always been a distant goal for me, and I pretty much just made excuses for myself as to why "right now" wasn't the right time. Some excuses I'd like to think were legit, like knee surgeries and having babies. But otherwise I sort of just basked in the boo-hoo's of my poor mechanics and told myself the 13.1 wasn't possible. Well, now having 7 miles under my belt at a 7:15 minute-mile pace, I'm starting to see just how possible it is. From here on out, all I can do is be smart about my training, adjust it as necessary to my bum knees & hip, and hope for an injury-free course to the race.
Later, 5k.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Missing Each Other
Weekends are generally the only time Eric and I truly get to spend with each other and our girls, since during the week we spend our time juggling dinner bath and bedtime by the time he's home from work. But these past several weekends have been jam-packed with side jobs and family gatherings (all time spent away from my hubby) - and the next few weekends aren't looking any better.
Eric has his psych evaluation this coming weekend, in Worcester, and I'll be home for a girls-weekend with my nieces for an overnight. The following weekend is my best friend's first dress fitting for her wedding (!!!), and since I am a giant child about driving into the big city with my baby in tow, the easiest option for me is to stay at my moms and hitch a ride to Boston from there. Easy, yes. But it proposes yet another weekend away from Eric.
Funny how you can live with someone, spend your whole day texting and talking to them, have dinner with them, share child-duties with them, and yet miss them so much. Between his long work day and my day at home with the 2 girls, by the time bedtime rolls around, we're ready for bed, too.
Once these next couple of weekends are through, I'd like to say we'll catch a break, but then the holiday plans begin. Marriage with both parents divorced is a recipe for 3 or 4 separate celebrations, which can take up the whole month.
I'm starting to feel a bit overwhelmed with all we have to do, and also with how little time we're spending together. Especially with Eric starting his corrections officer academy next month which will throw our schedule through hoops, and again when he gets a job and is working 2nd or 3rd shift.
Just hoping we can find some calm in all the chaos, and settle into all the new schedules and changes the best we can. And finding some time to grab a sushi roll would be fab ;)
Friday, September 7, 2012
Lovin' Love
My marriage to Eric has taught me many things, like how to be selfless, and trust that your needs will be met by each other. But the biggest thing it has taught me is how to never settle for less than you deserve.
My husband is wonderful. He really is. Everyday, we kiss good morning and good night, hello and good bye, he is constantly telling me how beautiful he thinks I am, even right after returning from a run or rolling out of bed. He is always willing to help when I need it, and is supportive in everything that I do. The thing I admire him most for is his ability to back down in an argument or disagreement in order to meet eye to eye and work it out faster. We can both be extremely stubborn and set in our ways, so our ability to be vulnerable with each other to work through something is a great feeling. I think our first year of marriage has set a strong foundation for the years to come.
In pervious relationships, if there was something I didn't like or that made me unhappy, I just kind of thought "well, no one's perfect. This is the way it's going to be and I have to deal with it" - so not true. Sure, no one's perfect, but there is such a thing as a perfect match. I wasn't perfect for my ex's and Eric wasn't perfect for his, but for each other? We just fit. We just work. I am grateful everyday that I didn't settle for anything less than the happiness I have now.
My yoga teacher once said that if you are being grateful, there is no room in your mind for stress. Anytime I feel overwhelmed or stressed out, I focus on my two beautiful, healthy daughters and my amazing marriage, and everything stills. Everything is okay.
There's no doubt we'll face hard times, but I welcome the challenge, knowing that we'll make it through and come out even stronger. I'm so glad I didn't settle. I'm so glad I married for the right reasons. If something doesn't feel right, it's probably not. If you wish someone would change, they probably won't. I love my marriage for what it is; imperfections and all. From bedtime pillow fights to working through difficult situations, I'm glad it's with him.
My husband is wonderful. He really is. Everyday, we kiss good morning and good night, hello and good bye, he is constantly telling me how beautiful he thinks I am, even right after returning from a run or rolling out of bed. He is always willing to help when I need it, and is supportive in everything that I do. The thing I admire him most for is his ability to back down in an argument or disagreement in order to meet eye to eye and work it out faster. We can both be extremely stubborn and set in our ways, so our ability to be vulnerable with each other to work through something is a great feeling. I think our first year of marriage has set a strong foundation for the years to come.
In pervious relationships, if there was something I didn't like or that made me unhappy, I just kind of thought "well, no one's perfect. This is the way it's going to be and I have to deal with it" - so not true. Sure, no one's perfect, but there is such a thing as a perfect match. I wasn't perfect for my ex's and Eric wasn't perfect for his, but for each other? We just fit. We just work. I am grateful everyday that I didn't settle for anything less than the happiness I have now.
My yoga teacher once said that if you are being grateful, there is no room in your mind for stress. Anytime I feel overwhelmed or stressed out, I focus on my two beautiful, healthy daughters and my amazing marriage, and everything stills. Everything is okay.
There's no doubt we'll face hard times, but I welcome the challenge, knowing that we'll make it through and come out even stronger. I'm so glad I didn't settle. I'm so glad I married for the right reasons. If something doesn't feel right, it's probably not. If you wish someone would change, they probably won't. I love my marriage for what it is; imperfections and all. From bedtime pillow fights to working through difficult situations, I'm glad it's with him.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Easier Said Than Done
Recent events have put my newfound mindfulness to the test, and it's definitely been a struggle. Who knew that getting yourself to a calm, clear-headed state of mind could be so difficult, when it sounds so soothing and natural?
Last night and all throughout today, my anxiety has been a roller coaster ride. Between Lyla's first day of school and her father suddenly wanting to re-involve himself in her life, I've had lots on my mind within a very short time frame. Each time I begin to feel my heart race or tears well up, I try to become "Momma Zen" by acknowledging how I am feeling, and then taking steps to calm myself down through gentle breathing and little "pep-talks". I remind myself that I cannot control certain situations, and that I shouldn't clog my mind with thoughts of possible scenarios which I cannot change, or prevent.
Easier said than done.
I may find a minute or two of relief from these thoughts, fears, and anxiety, just to slowly slip back into my own thoughts of the inevitable. I have pits, where I focus on the negative: no, this isn't what I want and peaks, where I find some peace: I can do this, it will be okay.
So I lit some candles, put on a little DMB, and got out of my own head.
Don't focus on what you cannot change
Everything happens for a reason
You are the one controlling your emotions
Chanting inside my head, over and over again until my heart is beating at a normal rate.
Breathe
I'm realizing that I create my own anxiety by remembering the past, and focusing on the "what ifs"
I have to stop doing this.
Again, easier said than done.
Somehow, these thoughts continue to creep back in and plague my mind.
Inhale belly rise, exhale belly fall
I can't change the past. I can't predict the future. All I can do is focus on today, and appreciate the breaks I can find from my own mind - even minimally.
It's a process. And a difficult one. But I'll always continue to work towards mindfulness to better myself. No one wants a stressed out mother, wife, daughter, or friend. I can be the best me I can be by continuing to practice an empty mind. I'll struggle today for an easier tomorrow.
Ben Wants Back In
And now for the post about what's really causing most of my anxiety this morning...
Last night as I was preparing Lyla's things for her first day of preschool, "Ben McPherson" pops up on my phone. A text message, asking to talk about Lyla.
Great.
After nearly a year and a half of not seeing her, talking to her, and barely asking about her, he's now choosing to reconnect with his daughter.
It's bittersweet. Of course I want Lyla to have a relationship with her biological father, because it will (hopefully) save her a world of hurt, anger, and questions in the future as she grows older. But I couldn't help feeling selfish about it. She's just starting school; I have to give her up for 9 hours a week, and now potentially even more time if he chooses to re-establish visitation? I don't want to have any less time with her than I do now. It's not fair. But, putting my own feelings aside, I need to think of what's best for my daughter, and I think having some relationship with Ben will, again - hopefully, be a good thing.
As kindly as I could, I explained how he was a complete stranger to her. She knows that he exists, but that's pretty much it. And he has no idea who she is anymore, either. He's missed out on half of her life, literally, and a child changes a lot from 18months to 3 years old. I told him that if he is serious about coming back into her life, that it's all or nothing. He needs to do it right. He needs to re-establish a relationship with her gradually, and he needs to respect me and Eric when the "where did you go? why haven't you seen me?" questions come out of my toddler's curious mind. As much as I've had my choice words about Ben, never have they been said to or in front of Lyla. Knowing that he could come back into her life, I didn't want her to hate him, or be scared to eventually go with him. Eric and I chose not to talk about him, and if she ever asked, we would tell her he was at work. The last thing I want is for Ben to tell my toddler that it was my fault he didn't see her.
I am worried about the whole thing, though. Lyla is one of the most sensitive little kids I've ever seen, and it would kill me to see someone hurt her. I warned Ben that he better never, ever do this to my little girl again if he walks back in.
He tried explaining why he hadn't seen her for this long, talking about how he had a lot going on and how it was hard when he and I were not getting along - factors I'm sure made it difficult, but quite frankly, I didn't care to hear about them - and told him so. No excuse for 16 months of not seeing your own child.
I learned from our last experience to not do, say, or sign anything without my lawyer's advice, and even though he's upset that we can't settle this on our own, I need to protect Lyla. When I told him this he told me I was treating him like an "axe murderer". Yeah, exactly. Or, I don't want to get screwed like I did the last time we went to court and see my little girl get caught in the middle. So, my lawyer will be leading me through this mess, and hopefully we can civilly work something out with Lyla's best interest in mind.
I'm dreading it. I want her all for myself. I don't want to share. I don't feel like he's done anything to deserve any time with her. I'm angry. I'm sad. But that's all about me. When it comes to Lyla, I have to put all of this aside. Hopefully my new studies of yoga, meditation and exercise can help me through it with a clear head and low anxiety.
But for now, all I can do is wait for my lawyer's signal, and go from there. I can't stress over what I cannot change or what I have no control over, and this, unfortunately, is one of those things.
Last night as I was preparing Lyla's things for her first day of preschool, "Ben McPherson" pops up on my phone. A text message, asking to talk about Lyla.
Great.
After nearly a year and a half of not seeing her, talking to her, and barely asking about her, he's now choosing to reconnect with his daughter.
It's bittersweet. Of course I want Lyla to have a relationship with her biological father, because it will (hopefully) save her a world of hurt, anger, and questions in the future as she grows older. But I couldn't help feeling selfish about it. She's just starting school; I have to give her up for 9 hours a week, and now potentially even more time if he chooses to re-establish visitation? I don't want to have any less time with her than I do now. It's not fair. But, putting my own feelings aside, I need to think of what's best for my daughter, and I think having some relationship with Ben will, again - hopefully, be a good thing.
As kindly as I could, I explained how he was a complete stranger to her. She knows that he exists, but that's pretty much it. And he has no idea who she is anymore, either. He's missed out on half of her life, literally, and a child changes a lot from 18months to 3 years old. I told him that if he is serious about coming back into her life, that it's all or nothing. He needs to do it right. He needs to re-establish a relationship with her gradually, and he needs to respect me and Eric when the "where did you go? why haven't you seen me?" questions come out of my toddler's curious mind. As much as I've had my choice words about Ben, never have they been said to or in front of Lyla. Knowing that he could come back into her life, I didn't want her to hate him, or be scared to eventually go with him. Eric and I chose not to talk about him, and if she ever asked, we would tell her he was at work. The last thing I want is for Ben to tell my toddler that it was my fault he didn't see her.
I am worried about the whole thing, though. Lyla is one of the most sensitive little kids I've ever seen, and it would kill me to see someone hurt her. I warned Ben that he better never, ever do this to my little girl again if he walks back in.
He tried explaining why he hadn't seen her for this long, talking about how he had a lot going on and how it was hard when he and I were not getting along - factors I'm sure made it difficult, but quite frankly, I didn't care to hear about them - and told him so. No excuse for 16 months of not seeing your own child.
I learned from our last experience to not do, say, or sign anything without my lawyer's advice, and even though he's upset that we can't settle this on our own, I need to protect Lyla. When I told him this he told me I was treating him like an "axe murderer". Yeah, exactly. Or, I don't want to get screwed like I did the last time we went to court and see my little girl get caught in the middle. So, my lawyer will be leading me through this mess, and hopefully we can civilly work something out with Lyla's best interest in mind.
I'm dreading it. I want her all for myself. I don't want to share. I don't feel like he's done anything to deserve any time with her. I'm angry. I'm sad. But that's all about me. When it comes to Lyla, I have to put all of this aside. Hopefully my new studies of yoga, meditation and exercise can help me through it with a clear head and low anxiety.
But for now, all I can do is wait for my lawyer's signal, and go from there. I can't stress over what I cannot change or what I have no control over, and this, unfortunately, is one of those things.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Marriage - one year in
This last year has been anything but calm.
We moved - twice. We planned and had a wedding.We dealt with Lyla's terrible 2's. We survived pregnancy. We traveled. And we went from a family of 3 to a family of 4 with little commotion. Despite all the changes and chaos that was thrown our way, somehow, Eric and I made it out alive - and with very few arguments. If they say the first year it the hardest, then bring on the next 50.
I'm actually always surprised at our ability to overcome conflicts, because Eric and I both tend to be very stubborn people. You figure: you get two headstrong individuals in an argument, and neither of them will back down. This had been the case in a few spats prior to our wedding, but somehow marriage changed that. We vowed to spend our lives together, and it's not worth losing each other over such tiny speed bumps - I'm sure hills and mountains will be in store for us sometime in the road ahead. I've previously blogged about our love and our honesty, which definitely help make up the glue that keeps us together. But I think the thing I respect the most in our marriage is our ability to be vulnerable, to back down, and to apologize.
Everyone argues. It's inevitable. The thing that sets us aside from everyone else is our willingness to overcome whatever it is we're arguing about. We recognize quickly that we don't want to be fighting, and take quick steps to work it out. We both express ourselves on the situation, and then proceed to both apologize. I think this is the key. One of us may apologize for upsetting the other, and the other may apologize for reacting the way they did. When we both apologize, we both feel heard and healed, and can move on. I really respect Eric's ability to back down, because for the typical testosterone-driven male, this is difficult. And I'm sure he respects this of me, knowing how set in my ways I can be. It's give and take. It's sacrifice. It's what needs to be done. We have a lifetime together and need to choose our battles wisely. Our vulnerability to each other is, I think, what keeps us strong, happy, and so in love.
When Hannah arrived, I thought we would get in endless fights; between the lack of sleep and the added stress, I figured we'd have a serious rough patch. I'd need help when he got home from work but he'd be tired, too. We'd go back and forth over who worked harder, who was up more during the night, who cooked, who cleaned, and we would be done for. What really happened was a total shock. We got along even better. We became selfless. He helped more with the household chores knowing how tired I was, and I put any extra energy I had into giving my husband a well deserved back or foot rub to show my appreciation. Since our time was split between the girls, any time we did get together we cherished and had a deeper appreciation for. Looking at Hannah and knowing she is ours, "made in Mexico" on our honeymoon, out of love - this just bonded the two of us in a way I didn't know was possible. I'm still waiting for the storm to come, because it feels unreal for things to be going this smoothly being newly weds with a toddler and newborn.
All in all, this last year has been long, but amazing nonetheless. I feel so lucky to have married someone who loves me for who I am, and respects me enough to work through any problem we will face. We've got a good thing going here :)
We moved - twice. We planned and had a wedding.We dealt with Lyla's terrible 2's. We survived pregnancy. We traveled. And we went from a family of 3 to a family of 4 with little commotion. Despite all the changes and chaos that was thrown our way, somehow, Eric and I made it out alive - and with very few arguments. If they say the first year it the hardest, then bring on the next 50.
I'm actually always surprised at our ability to overcome conflicts, because Eric and I both tend to be very stubborn people. You figure: you get two headstrong individuals in an argument, and neither of them will back down. This had been the case in a few spats prior to our wedding, but somehow marriage changed that. We vowed to spend our lives together, and it's not worth losing each other over such tiny speed bumps - I'm sure hills and mountains will be in store for us sometime in the road ahead. I've previously blogged about our love and our honesty, which definitely help make up the glue that keeps us together. But I think the thing I respect the most in our marriage is our ability to be vulnerable, to back down, and to apologize.
Everyone argues. It's inevitable. The thing that sets us aside from everyone else is our willingness to overcome whatever it is we're arguing about. We recognize quickly that we don't want to be fighting, and take quick steps to work it out. We both express ourselves on the situation, and then proceed to both apologize. I think this is the key. One of us may apologize for upsetting the other, and the other may apologize for reacting the way they did. When we both apologize, we both feel heard and healed, and can move on. I really respect Eric's ability to back down, because for the typical testosterone-driven male, this is difficult. And I'm sure he respects this of me, knowing how set in my ways I can be. It's give and take. It's sacrifice. It's what needs to be done. We have a lifetime together and need to choose our battles wisely. Our vulnerability to each other is, I think, what keeps us strong, happy, and so in love.
When Hannah arrived, I thought we would get in endless fights; between the lack of sleep and the added stress, I figured we'd have a serious rough patch. I'd need help when he got home from work but he'd be tired, too. We'd go back and forth over who worked harder, who was up more during the night, who cooked, who cleaned, and we would be done for. What really happened was a total shock. We got along even better. We became selfless. He helped more with the household chores knowing how tired I was, and I put any extra energy I had into giving my husband a well deserved back or foot rub to show my appreciation. Since our time was split between the girls, any time we did get together we cherished and had a deeper appreciation for. Looking at Hannah and knowing she is ours, "made in Mexico" on our honeymoon, out of love - this just bonded the two of us in a way I didn't know was possible. I'm still waiting for the storm to come, because it feels unreal for things to be going this smoothly being newly weds with a toddler and newborn.
All in all, this last year has been long, but amazing nonetheless. I feel so lucky to have married someone who loves me for who I am, and respects me enough to work through any problem we will face. We've got a good thing going here :)
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Money = Good Father?
Something I always find strange when I talk to Lyla's father is how little he asks about her. He'll call for one legal reason or another, and then shoot the shit about his life plans as if we're best friends who need catching up. But not one question about Lyla. At most, I'll get a "tell Lyla I said hi" at the end of our conversation, but nothing more. No interest in what she's doing, how she's growing, or her in general whatsoever. It's one thing to go 15 months without seeing her, but to act like she doesn't exist bothers me more than ever.
As annoying as it may have been when he was constantly texting to ask for pictures or asking to talk to her, to be honest in some way I preferred it, because despite my care-less feelings towards him, at least it showed that he still cared about Lyla. However, now that it has been so long since they've spoken and he is merely a vague memory to Lyla, it's better that he doesn't all of a sudden want to pick up where he left off; I think that would be confusing and traumatic for my 3 year old sensitive girl. Still, the thought lingers that he can choose to come back whenever he wishes, but despite the fact that it's been over a year since he's last seen her, I actually believe he thinks of himself as a good father.
Ben has always been obsessed with money. He worked all hours of the day, and spent all he made instantly. He may love making money but he loved spending it more. Ever since our split in 2010, he's paid weekly child support, and before this, he opened a trust fund for Lyla which he planned to be her college fund. In one of our recent conversations, he explained how her fund has tripled since he started it in 2009, and still plans on putting it towards her future schooling. He talked about money the whole conversation, and even though it was indirectly about Lyla, he still managed not to mention her directly once. Since he's so money-driven, I truly believe that because he pays child support and has this fund in place for her, he thinks this makes him a good father.
Eric and I could care less about this trust fund. Sure, it could be beneficial to us down the road, but this is money from a man who has made zero effort to be in his daughter's life, and she's only 3. Who knows what the next 15 years will bring. To us, this money doesn't exist. But the way Ben talks about it is as if he's some sort of fatherly God. He was so excited to tell me how much he had saved up for her, and yet he doesn't even know her anymore.
Providing financially doesn't make you a father. Everything Eric is doing: playing, teaching, disciplining and loving - those are things that make you a dad - and a good one. We could be broke and homeless and it wouldn't make Eric any less of a father to Lyla. But not seeing her for this length of time, and sending a check every month does not define you as a parent, because you aren't one.
Every now and then Lyla will ask about Ben, but recently she has declared Eric as her daddy. If you ask her who "dad" is, she'll say Eric, though she still chooses to call him Eric, or most recently "Papa" - a Beauty and the Beast influence. At this point, she knows Ben exists, but that's pretty much as far as it goes. I hope that even if he does choose to reenter Lyla's life someday, that she will recognize what it means to be a real parent, and love and respect Eric for all he's done and is doing AS her dad - even if down the road she develops a relationship with her biological father.
Once again, I can't predict the future, and I have no idea whether Ben will come back, flake out completely, or continue to think he's doing alright by providing financially. But whatever happens, Lyla has Eric, and she's so unbelievably luck for that - we both are. You can't put a dollar sign on fatherhood. It's priceless.
As annoying as it may have been when he was constantly texting to ask for pictures or asking to talk to her, to be honest in some way I preferred it, because despite my care-less feelings towards him, at least it showed that he still cared about Lyla. However, now that it has been so long since they've spoken and he is merely a vague memory to Lyla, it's better that he doesn't all of a sudden want to pick up where he left off; I think that would be confusing and traumatic for my 3 year old sensitive girl. Still, the thought lingers that he can choose to come back whenever he wishes, but despite the fact that it's been over a year since he's last seen her, I actually believe he thinks of himself as a good father.
Ben has always been obsessed with money. He worked all hours of the day, and spent all he made instantly. He may love making money but he loved spending it more. Ever since our split in 2010, he's paid weekly child support, and before this, he opened a trust fund for Lyla which he planned to be her college fund. In one of our recent conversations, he explained how her fund has tripled since he started it in 2009, and still plans on putting it towards her future schooling. He talked about money the whole conversation, and even though it was indirectly about Lyla, he still managed not to mention her directly once. Since he's so money-driven, I truly believe that because he pays child support and has this fund in place for her, he thinks this makes him a good father.
Eric and I could care less about this trust fund. Sure, it could be beneficial to us down the road, but this is money from a man who has made zero effort to be in his daughter's life, and she's only 3. Who knows what the next 15 years will bring. To us, this money doesn't exist. But the way Ben talks about it is as if he's some sort of fatherly God. He was so excited to tell me how much he had saved up for her, and yet he doesn't even know her anymore.
Providing financially doesn't make you a father. Everything Eric is doing: playing, teaching, disciplining and loving - those are things that make you a dad - and a good one. We could be broke and homeless and it wouldn't make Eric any less of a father to Lyla. But not seeing her for this length of time, and sending a check every month does not define you as a parent, because you aren't one.
Every now and then Lyla will ask about Ben, but recently she has declared Eric as her daddy. If you ask her who "dad" is, she'll say Eric, though she still chooses to call him Eric, or most recently "Papa" - a Beauty and the Beast influence. At this point, she knows Ben exists, but that's pretty much as far as it goes. I hope that even if he does choose to reenter Lyla's life someday, that she will recognize what it means to be a real parent, and love and respect Eric for all he's done and is doing AS her dad - even if down the road she develops a relationship with her biological father.
Once again, I can't predict the future, and I have no idea whether Ben will come back, flake out completely, or continue to think he's doing alright by providing financially. But whatever happens, Lyla has Eric, and she's so unbelievably luck for that - we both are. You can't put a dollar sign on fatherhood. It's priceless.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Running
I ran my first "race" when I was 6 years old. It was once around a local park, about a half mile, and despite the fact that all the other 6 year olds ran to their mommy's or got distracted by the giant playground, I still like to basque in the glory of coming in 3rd - 1st girl ;)
Even though I didn't do much running on my own until years after my victory race, running was a part of my daily life through my parents. Both marathoners at the time, it was simply part of their routine to run daily. Breakfast, coffee, run. I loved going to their races and watching them run by as I stood among the crowd screaming "go mommy, go daddy!", and not to mention, got to eat all the fresh fruit and power bars I could get my hands on.
9th grade came along and so did the proposal of running cross country. At the time, I was dancing ballet, and had to choose between the two because of the severely different ways my muscles would be trained. I chose to run. Little did I know the injuries I would soon endure, from ligament tears in both knees to a fractured hip; it just so happens that the year I began running would be the only full season I would complete.
After high school I continued to run after recovering from 2 knee surgeries, but mainly to run off a night of drinking and 3am fast food burgers. Eventually, I took running more seriously and eased into a weekly routine while avoiding further injury, which allowed me to actually enjoy running, and the feeling I had afterwards.
Now more than ever I love and appreciate my ability to run. Pregnancy definitely aided these feelings; after a difficult 9 months of morning sickness, back pain, and the typical baby-on-the-bladder-running-prevention, I was eager to get back into the swing of it. Not to mention, the motivation of losing baby weight always got me out the door, even after a sleepless night.
Running is my everything-outlet. If I'm overwhelmed, I'll go for an extra long easy-run, focusing on it being "me time" and return home with a clear head and ready to take on the world. If I'm angry, I'll put on a good rock play list and stomp out a faster, harder run, leaving all my anger in the dust. Even when I'm happy, I'll run along to an upbeat music selection and just appreciate the world around me. I love running in any mood, any weather, anytime.
The feeling I have afterwards is the most rewarding. Ironically it gives me a fabulous energy boost, and I always spend the rest of the day feeling refreshed and level-headed. In my attempt to prevent injury now more than ever, running has forced me to take better care of my body by incorporating more stretching and yoga-esque strengthening techniques. Even if it's only 10 minutes before one of my kids needs me and I'm slapped back to reality, I love the me-time where I can just focus on myself, my body, my flexibility, and my health. I'm a better mom for it, I think, because if I feel good and have a good energy, I'm going to reflect that onto my children. Good vibes! They're contagious.
I feel lucky every day that I was able to overcome all of my injuries, and despite my less-than-perfect running structure, I'm still out there 4-5 times a week. I also feel lucky that Eric is so supportive of my exercise; after a long 8 hour day at work, he comes home to watch the 2 girls while I head out for my daily run, and I know that can't always be easy on him.
I hope my body allows me to run for years to come. Call me crazy, but I love it.
Even though I didn't do much running on my own until years after my victory race, running was a part of my daily life through my parents. Both marathoners at the time, it was simply part of their routine to run daily. Breakfast, coffee, run. I loved going to their races and watching them run by as I stood among the crowd screaming "go mommy, go daddy!", and not to mention, got to eat all the fresh fruit and power bars I could get my hands on.
9th grade came along and so did the proposal of running cross country. At the time, I was dancing ballet, and had to choose between the two because of the severely different ways my muscles would be trained. I chose to run. Little did I know the injuries I would soon endure, from ligament tears in both knees to a fractured hip; it just so happens that the year I began running would be the only full season I would complete.
After high school I continued to run after recovering from 2 knee surgeries, but mainly to run off a night of drinking and 3am fast food burgers. Eventually, I took running more seriously and eased into a weekly routine while avoiding further injury, which allowed me to actually enjoy running, and the feeling I had afterwards.
Now more than ever I love and appreciate my ability to run. Pregnancy definitely aided these feelings; after a difficult 9 months of morning sickness, back pain, and the typical baby-on-the-bladder-running-prevention, I was eager to get back into the swing of it. Not to mention, the motivation of losing baby weight always got me out the door, even after a sleepless night.
Running is my everything-outlet. If I'm overwhelmed, I'll go for an extra long easy-run, focusing on it being "me time" and return home with a clear head and ready to take on the world. If I'm angry, I'll put on a good rock play list and stomp out a faster, harder run, leaving all my anger in the dust. Even when I'm happy, I'll run along to an upbeat music selection and just appreciate the world around me. I love running in any mood, any weather, anytime.
The feeling I have afterwards is the most rewarding. Ironically it gives me a fabulous energy boost, and I always spend the rest of the day feeling refreshed and level-headed. In my attempt to prevent injury now more than ever, running has forced me to take better care of my body by incorporating more stretching and yoga-esque strengthening techniques. Even if it's only 10 minutes before one of my kids needs me and I'm slapped back to reality, I love the me-time where I can just focus on myself, my body, my flexibility, and my health. I'm a better mom for it, I think, because if I feel good and have a good energy, I'm going to reflect that onto my children. Good vibes! They're contagious.
I feel lucky every day that I was able to overcome all of my injuries, and despite my less-than-perfect running structure, I'm still out there 4-5 times a week. I also feel lucky that Eric is so supportive of my exercise; after a long 8 hour day at work, he comes home to watch the 2 girls while I head out for my daily run, and I know that can't always be easy on him.
I hope my body allows me to run for years to come. Call me crazy, but I love it.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Religion
Quite frankly, I've always had lots of questions regarding religion. I've gone back and forth over the years, from totally unsure to reading the bible word for word. I was raised catholic, but not strictly. My family attended church occasionally, and everything religious felt very forced and unnatural. And now at 23, I'm right where I've always been - confused.
Right after I had Lyla was a time I'd consider my most religious. I thought "wow, there must be a God, this beautiful child is proof". I began to attend church weekly, reading the bible, and asking catholic friends loads of questions. But somehow, each time I spent time with a friend or family member who was less than religious, I always took two steps backwards. I would second guess my beliefs, and have more questions than ever. And I still do.
Take those who are gay, for example. People are born gay, it is not a choice. And supposedly, God creates all people, meaning that he created them, too. So, why would God create a gay man, and then teach people that it is "wrong" or "unnatural"? And on top of that, deny them their equal rights as a human to marry the person they love? Sure, they cannot have biological children together, but there are some man-woman couples who cannot either, and even others who choose not to. It's heartbreaking to hear of families who practically disown their own child because they came out as gay. As a mother, I will love my girls no matter what direction life takes them, and I will support who and what they love.
Our wedding was one of the worst experiences I have had with the church. I felt judged because I had a child out of wedlock from a previous relationship, we were looked down upon because we didn't attend church regularly, and a great deal of pressure was put on us to become confirmed - which neither Eric and I are. Shouldn't God be grateful that I brought a child into this world, and not focus on the fact that she may have not been planned or with a person I was in love with? I love her and do my best to raise her. Isn't that what's important? Isn't being spiritual and believing in God more important than how often you attend church? It's hard to commit yourself to a religion when you're constantly feeling judged or put down for decisions you've made. I find that each time I get re-involved with the catholic religion, I leave feeling poorly about myself, my past, and my beliefs.
Lyla was baptized when she was 3 months old. This was during the time I considered myself "most religious", and felt good about welcoming my daughter into the world of God. This ceremony was her entry way to heaven someday, which was a much better thought than anything else in terms of the after life. And today, we have a meeting at the church for Hannah's baptism. Although Eric and I are currently quite confused and unsure of where religion will take us, we wanted to leave the door open for our girls, and so, we're choosing to have Hannah baptized in a Catholic church - the one where we were married. I'm hoping to have a better experience, since Hannah was a product of love and marriage. I'm hoping to be able to focus on the possibilities for our baby girl, and not be frowned upon by our lack of church attendance.
Our girls can choose whatever path in life they want, and we will be 100% supportive. But as for us, we are just utterly confused on what to believe right now.
Right after I had Lyla was a time I'd consider my most religious. I thought "wow, there must be a God, this beautiful child is proof". I began to attend church weekly, reading the bible, and asking catholic friends loads of questions. But somehow, each time I spent time with a friend or family member who was less than religious, I always took two steps backwards. I would second guess my beliefs, and have more questions than ever. And I still do.
Take those who are gay, for example. People are born gay, it is not a choice. And supposedly, God creates all people, meaning that he created them, too. So, why would God create a gay man, and then teach people that it is "wrong" or "unnatural"? And on top of that, deny them their equal rights as a human to marry the person they love? Sure, they cannot have biological children together, but there are some man-woman couples who cannot either, and even others who choose not to. It's heartbreaking to hear of families who practically disown their own child because they came out as gay. As a mother, I will love my girls no matter what direction life takes them, and I will support who and what they love.
Our wedding was one of the worst experiences I have had with the church. I felt judged because I had a child out of wedlock from a previous relationship, we were looked down upon because we didn't attend church regularly, and a great deal of pressure was put on us to become confirmed - which neither Eric and I are. Shouldn't God be grateful that I brought a child into this world, and not focus on the fact that she may have not been planned or with a person I was in love with? I love her and do my best to raise her. Isn't that what's important? Isn't being spiritual and believing in God more important than how often you attend church? It's hard to commit yourself to a religion when you're constantly feeling judged or put down for decisions you've made. I find that each time I get re-involved with the catholic religion, I leave feeling poorly about myself, my past, and my beliefs.
Lyla was baptized when she was 3 months old. This was during the time I considered myself "most religious", and felt good about welcoming my daughter into the world of God. This ceremony was her entry way to heaven someday, which was a much better thought than anything else in terms of the after life. And today, we have a meeting at the church for Hannah's baptism. Although Eric and I are currently quite confused and unsure of where religion will take us, we wanted to leave the door open for our girls, and so, we're choosing to have Hannah baptized in a Catholic church - the one where we were married. I'm hoping to have a better experience, since Hannah was a product of love and marriage. I'm hoping to be able to focus on the possibilities for our baby girl, and not be frowned upon by our lack of church attendance.
Our girls can choose whatever path in life they want, and we will be 100% supportive. But as for us, we are just utterly confused on what to believe right now.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Love for Food
Since Hannah was about 2 weeks old, I have had to stop eating all dairy products, and somehow, eating less has made me have a much deeper appreciation for food. Maybe it's all the labels I'm now forced to read, or the added fruits, veggies, whole grains and lean meats I've had to add to my diet in order to consume an adequate amount of nutrition, but I'm more intrigued now than ever.
Over the last 8 weeks, I've tried a few new things: rice milk, coconut milk, soy yogurts, endless seed & nut combos, quinoa...etc. Not only did I learn that I liked these things I had never tried, but that I felt better eating them. I've learned new balances of complex carbs & proteins from sources other than dairy. Most importantly - I've learned to control my energy levels through food: carbs in the morning to jump-start the day, with snacks of fruit & nuts throughout the day for a natural sugar & protein boost. Eric and I have also started to cut out all carbs after dinner, and try to be done snacking by 8pm. I feel fabulous, but I'm sure that also comes from the fact that I can't indulge in my usual frozen yogurt and chocolate desserts.
I've also realized what a food-rut we live in. I now have this vibrant list of snacks that I consume, but meals? Not so much. Marinated chicken one night, turkey burgers the next, then a "breakfast-for-dinner" night, and nights where we'll just have sandwiches or soup & salad. Healthy, yes, but the same thing every week? Also, yes. BORING! The truth is, I'm a cooking-scaredy-cat. Once I do it once, I'll be fine - but it's getting myself to try something new that's tough. And once I do, it gets added to our rut-list, like when I decided to try stir-fries: now I make the same stir-fry with pretty much the same ingredients each time. We even have a croc-pot that Eric won 2 years ago that we have never used - everyone yells at me for this, since it is supposedly the easiest way to cook and try new things. Yup. We're croc-pot virgins.
I'm hoping to turn all this around with my sudden interest in new foods. Gonna break out the croc-pot, put our new juicer to good use, and clear the cob webs off our several cooking books that have never been opened. I absolutely love to eat, and even though I don't do much, I love to cook. It's sort of part of my job expectation as a mother and wife, so I'd better get crackin'. Looking forward to continuing to try new things, and learn to break out of my cooking fear...
...even though chicken is currently marinating for dinner. I'll start tomorrow ;)
The power of food is pretty awesome. Being able to control your mood, your energy, and your health through diet is fabulous.
Over the last 8 weeks, I've tried a few new things: rice milk, coconut milk, soy yogurts, endless seed & nut combos, quinoa...etc. Not only did I learn that I liked these things I had never tried, but that I felt better eating them. I've learned new balances of complex carbs & proteins from sources other than dairy. Most importantly - I've learned to control my energy levels through food: carbs in the morning to jump-start the day, with snacks of fruit & nuts throughout the day for a natural sugar & protein boost. Eric and I have also started to cut out all carbs after dinner, and try to be done snacking by 8pm. I feel fabulous, but I'm sure that also comes from the fact that I can't indulge in my usual frozen yogurt and chocolate desserts.
I've also realized what a food-rut we live in. I now have this vibrant list of snacks that I consume, but meals? Not so much. Marinated chicken one night, turkey burgers the next, then a "breakfast-for-dinner" night, and nights where we'll just have sandwiches or soup & salad. Healthy, yes, but the same thing every week? Also, yes. BORING! The truth is, I'm a cooking-scaredy-cat. Once I do it once, I'll be fine - but it's getting myself to try something new that's tough. And once I do, it gets added to our rut-list, like when I decided to try stir-fries: now I make the same stir-fry with pretty much the same ingredients each time. We even have a croc-pot that Eric won 2 years ago that we have never used - everyone yells at me for this, since it is supposedly the easiest way to cook and try new things. Yup. We're croc-pot virgins.
I'm hoping to turn all this around with my sudden interest in new foods. Gonna break out the croc-pot, put our new juicer to good use, and clear the cob webs off our several cooking books that have never been opened. I absolutely love to eat, and even though I don't do much, I love to cook. It's sort of part of my job expectation as a mother and wife, so I'd better get crackin'. Looking forward to continuing to try new things, and learn to break out of my cooking fear...
...even though chicken is currently marinating for dinner. I'll start tomorrow ;)
The power of food is pretty awesome. Being able to control your mood, your energy, and your health through diet is fabulous.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Social Media Judgement - quick note
Everyone uses Facebook, Twitter, and other social media sites differently - from music promotion to sharing how bad your breath was when you woke up that morning - everyone's got something to share, and even more-so, everyone's got something to say about these updates.
I find it amusing when I see posts like "no one cares what you ate for lunch" - probably true, but these sites are for people's personal use, and they can post whatever the hell they want. I'm sure every time I post a blog about how happy I am, I have a fair-share of people who think "alright, we get it already". Or, when I post my many pictures of my girls, you may think "you're a mom, Lauren, we get the picture". Now, given, I am an open book, and will "check-in" where I go, update what I'm doing, and share my activities with the world, so I may be a bit biased to these judgements. On the other hand, I've definitely been fed up with a few girls' "I think pouty-faces are cute" or "photos-of-myself-in-the-mirror" pictures, but instead of complaining, I deleted them so I wouldn't have to see them anymore.
You're not forced to read everyones posts, so if you don't like 'em, don't read 'em.
:);) xo
Friday, August 17, 2012
Living in a Bubble
Ever find yourself in a place where things are so good that you're scared of any sort of change? Well, I'm here now. We've all adjusted to being a family of 4, Lyla's tantrums seem to be calming down, Hannah has settled into a more than manageable routine, and Eric and I continue to thrive as a couple. What could go wrong? Talk of a new job and buying a house sure could.
Eric has applied to be a correction's officer, and the application, schooling and training portions can take months. I understand his career change, since as an electrician he can be laid off at any given moment, and that's not very reassuring when you have a wife and two children to support. However, it's one of those jobs where you start out low and the totem pole, working 3rd shift and weekends, and work your way up to more reasonable hours. For me, this means sleeping alone at night and tip-toeing around the house during the day while he sleeps - no easy task with little ones romping around. I've also seen way too many scary movies and SVU episodes to feel comfortable sleeping without him; the recent break in of Eric's truck doesn't make me feel any better. And for Eric, this means (more than likely) broken sleep, and a serious time-adjustment on his days off. He's worked nights - even overnights - before, and it was difficult to adjust to. We made it through then and we'll make it through now, but until it happens I'm basking in our little perfect routine where my husband is home for the day at 3:30 and snuggles in with me at night.
And then the house-talk. Ah, yes. Of course I would love to own a house of our own in the future, especially since paying rent for our apartment is in essence just throwing away money instead of working towards something, like a mortgage, but the thought is still scary. Right now, everything is so easy: something breaks, we call the landlord; not our problem, not our money, not our job. With a house? It's all us - or more than likely, Eric. Maybe the problem here is that I actually like spending time with my husband. And while I have no problem with him going out with friends for a drink, the thought of having to share him with a house with endless work to be done and things to be fixed just makes me realize how much less time we will have to spend together. Back off, house, he's mine. (Is it normal to be jealous of a non-existent house? Hmmm...)
I want to capture this time we're in right now, put it in a bubble and just stay in it forever. Even though a lot about the future excites me, like watching the girls grow and seeing what new beginnings we'll encounter, it still makes me nervous to rock the boat when things are going so well.
Ah, this thing called life. Lets see what you have in store for us.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Comfortable Being Me
I feel like a good amount of my life has been spent comparing myself to others, and basing my decisions on those around me. Especially in high school, I would take note of what others were wearing, watching, and doing, and I would be in a constant game of follow the leader. Even after becoming a mother, I was determined to be "one of those" who would always have my hair & make-up done, be well dressed, and have my husband come home to a wife doing the dishes in 6 inch heels. All this seemed so appealing after seeing it be done in the movies and even with a few friends with kids; but I finally stopped looking around and trying to be someone else, because slowly but surely, I became more comfortable just being me.
Lesson 1: I am not a girly-girl. Day to day, you will see me in yoga pants, sports bra, racer back tank, and either flip flops or sneakers. This is a simple one: they're comfortable. Not to mention, if I'm already dressed to run, I have no excuse not to go for one when hubby gets home from work. I'll take Nike and Puma over Coach and Armani any day. Lucky for me, Eric tells me that he finds me most attractive when I'm run-ready; sure, the tight running capris play a strong roll, but taking good care of myself is a more attractive quality than someone who spends hours getting ready each day only to apply more and more make up and hair, and look less and less like the real you.
Lesson 2: It's not all or nothing. "Dressing up" to me can be anything from adding a pair of chunky earrings to my messy-bun & jeans look, to heels, dresses and curls. Fun? Yes. Daily preference? Absolutely not. I do, however, love a lil' mascara and eyeliner - even with yoga pants. But my hair? Impossible. Not only is it outrageously thick and unmanageable from having a baby 8 weeks ago, but it's too damn hot to blow dry and straighten this mop. I was not blessed with totally straight or beautifully curly hair: I've got the inbetween; waves. Good for a beachy look, perhaps, but not so much for a shower-and-go-natural one. Therefore, I live in messy buns and braids. And hey, as a mother of 2 who plans on exercising later that day, that's just fine with me. I may be no Posh, but I make a great Sporty Spice.
Truly being comfortable with yourself obviously goes a lot deeper than the clothes you wear, and here's where I go back to my over-expressed topic: happiness. Not only am I lucky to have Eric who supports me no matter what, but I am lucky to have the ability to be happy with myself - and this took years. I kissed my past goodbye, looked forward to the future, and focused on the present. I take good care of myself by eating right and exercising. I focus nearly all my energy into mothering my 2 girls to the best of my ability, and I stay truly honest and genuine in everything I do. That alone makes me feel great about myself - nothing to hide (as anyone who reads my blogs will know, I'm an open book); I love giving to others without the expectation of receiving something in return, and I try not to half-ass anything. I feel like right now in my life, I am the best person/wife/mother I can be, and I couldn't be any of those things without self acceptance and happiness.
I no longer feel like I have to compare myself to anyone - I am 100% comfortable being me, yoga pants and all.
Lesson 1: I am not a girly-girl. Day to day, you will see me in yoga pants, sports bra, racer back tank, and either flip flops or sneakers. This is a simple one: they're comfortable. Not to mention, if I'm already dressed to run, I have no excuse not to go for one when hubby gets home from work. I'll take Nike and Puma over Coach and Armani any day. Lucky for me, Eric tells me that he finds me most attractive when I'm run-ready; sure, the tight running capris play a strong roll, but taking good care of myself is a more attractive quality than someone who spends hours getting ready each day only to apply more and more make up and hair, and look less and less like the real you.
Lesson 2: It's not all or nothing. "Dressing up" to me can be anything from adding a pair of chunky earrings to my messy-bun & jeans look, to heels, dresses and curls. Fun? Yes. Daily preference? Absolutely not. I do, however, love a lil' mascara and eyeliner - even with yoga pants. But my hair? Impossible. Not only is it outrageously thick and unmanageable from having a baby 8 weeks ago, but it's too damn hot to blow dry and straighten this mop. I was not blessed with totally straight or beautifully curly hair: I've got the inbetween; waves. Good for a beachy look, perhaps, but not so much for a shower-and-go-natural one. Therefore, I live in messy buns and braids. And hey, as a mother of 2 who plans on exercising later that day, that's just fine with me. I may be no Posh, but I make a great Sporty Spice.
Truly being comfortable with yourself obviously goes a lot deeper than the clothes you wear, and here's where I go back to my over-expressed topic: happiness. Not only am I lucky to have Eric who supports me no matter what, but I am lucky to have the ability to be happy with myself - and this took years. I kissed my past goodbye, looked forward to the future, and focused on the present. I take good care of myself by eating right and exercising. I focus nearly all my energy into mothering my 2 girls to the best of my ability, and I stay truly honest and genuine in everything I do. That alone makes me feel great about myself - nothing to hide (as anyone who reads my blogs will know, I'm an open book); I love giving to others without the expectation of receiving something in return, and I try not to half-ass anything. I feel like right now in my life, I am the best person/wife/mother I can be, and I couldn't be any of those things without self acceptance and happiness.
I no longer feel like I have to compare myself to anyone - I am 100% comfortable being me, yoga pants and all.
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