Mixed Emotion

Gigi is 12 days away from her 3rd birthday! It really seems impossible to believe that she has been on this earth three years! Where did the time go? I stay at home with the girls, I am here every day and it’s gone so quickly that I am sure I’ve missed something. For the first year of G’s life I took a million photos, at least. I dressed her up and changed her outfits, posed her and played with her and breathed her in. When G was 18 months old Lula was born and as sure as all mothers are that they could not possibly love another like the first, I was too. And like all of the mothers before me and all those that will come after, I they were, I was and they will be wrong! I knew it in my core that I could and would love another like my first, but I did not realize how different it would be.

I have to divide time between the two and dividing one being, among two who refuse to take anything less that 100% is hard! I am always sure someone is being gypped. I have only a fraction of the photos of Lu that I did of G. To try and photograph the two of them is an exercise in futility. Neither one can sit still, you cannot get them to look or smile at the same time… Even to capture separate photos, the subject might cooperate but the other is hinging on, trying to grab the camera, screaming for attention… The same goes for any kind of one on one attention. Lu has to be sitting on me, but ONLY when I am trying to do something with just G. G generally ignores me and insists “I can do it by myself!” unless I am involved with Lu in which case she is utterly unable to do even the simplest of tasks by herself.

Three means preschool, something that G has been begging to do since they built a school in our backyard last summer. Preschool while it means my baby isn’t a baby anymore also means time alone with Lu. The prospect of having six hours a week for “Lula and Mommy time” thrills me! G gets a new adventure, a way to expand her horizons, meet and play with kids her own age. I could not be happier for all the wonderful things this year is going to bring her! G’s turning three has so many happy aspects... Save one. Lu will be 18 months old on G’s birthday.

On G’s birthday, Lu will be exactly as old as G was the day Lu was born. They are 18 months apart to the day. 18 months has always been a significant time span in my brief time as a mother. Something about Lu passing that age is causing my heart to ache. She is my last baby. I have no regrets and no second thoughts about our decision to only have two children. I am not having that ‘’longing for a baby’’, that people with try to say I am. In fact I adore this age with Lu as I did with G. I am all about that newborn stage for about a minute before I want them walking and talking and someone I can play with. I don’t wish Lu was a baby again. I don’t wish I had or was having another baby, but this impending age makes me feel as though I am about to walk through a door that will close and lock behind me forever.

I better start paying closer attention; they are only babies for a heartbeat. If I am not careful, the next time I look up Lula will be on her way to preschool.

Coming Home from the hospial

1 month old

2 months old

3 months old

4 months old

5 months old

6 months old

7 months old

8 months old

9 months old

10 months old

11 months old

12 months old

13 months old

14 months old

15 months old

16 months old

17 months old

17 months old

Slacking off...

I've been called out by one of my "followers" for not keeping up on my blog. As usual there are things I want to talk/write about and things that are going on here that are noteworthy but I have been up to my eyeballs in 3 year old {attitude and energy that is} and have not had the time or energy to sit down and do this right...

 BUT I very much want to share a post from one of the brilliant blogs I follow. This author cracks me up! She never fails to make my day with her insight and humor. Her illustrations can be a little violent and crude at times but are always the perfect complement to her writing and wit. Of all her posts this one screamed out “Shelbi”. I want to stand up and applaud her for saying what clearly so many of us are thinking.  I had hoped that I could use her brilliant idea to assuage some of my irritation when I see ‘ALOT’. So far it has not worked so well, but at least I know I am not alone!


I must admit while I can type faster than my brain can process and while I KNOW I am at fault for writing ‘there’ when I mean’ their’ or ‘they’re’. I DO know the difference. If I was better at proof reading my own work I would catch it and know that I meant to type ‘‘You’re’’ an idiot for incessantly and incorrectly typing ALOT when it is and always has been A LOT. Instead of “Your’’ an idiot…. I am well aware that { you’re = you are } and { your = belonging to }. I know that { there = place } { their = possession } and { they’re = they are }. I know this because I learned it in elementary school. I also know that just because I learned it in elementary school does not mean I am immune to typos. Typos happen, that I can forgive.

Yes, I might have some deep seeded anger issues with this stuff… Like wanting to scream out “There is no such word as irregardless... the word is regardless!!” And “It’s touch base with you – like in baseball - not touch basis with you!” and “specifically not pacifically” and “library not liberry” - how about.. “you have an idea not an idear!” For some reason though... of all of the possible grammatical errors and made up words and misspoken phrases… ALOT gets me the worst… So thank you Ms. Brosh for Hyperbole and a half and for your brilliant piece {not peace}… I will try to embrace ALOT and think less of the people who incessantly get it wrong {No … you read that right, I meant that exactly as it sounded… I will think less of the people who get it wrong, not less about them!}

So instead of posting my own thing I'll share someone else's brillant blog with you...
ENJOY!

"alot-is-better-than-you-at-everything!"

Project Stroller Strides Weeks 3 and 4 / Dedication

Some really amazing things happened last week. It started on Monday when despite having a doctor appointment 40 minutes after Stroller Strides wraps up; despite the appointment being all the way across town and despite the fact that I would first have to drive home, drop the girls off with their father and rush, sweaty and tired to the doctor - I went anyway. I went - even though I had informed my instructors the week before that I would have to miss class both Monday and Tuesday. I went – and afterward felt empowered and energized for having done so. I went – and it felt great!

Well… I should disclose that it also could have been the fact that at the doctor I tipped the scale 12 pounds lighter than I did when I was there in January. I know that In January I had clogs and a winter sweater on in January and that weight was not accurate, but was it 12 pounds inaccurate??? Class or results from class either way I WAS PUMPED! Like cheerleader pumped. Like random shouting out “Whooh!” and “Yeah!” and clapping my hands pumped… you know??? Cheerleader pumped.

I did not make it to class on Tuesday. I did my best- rushed from an early appointment back home to get the girls but still could not make it. My husband who was able to work from home to watch the girls for me had the girls happily playing and still in their PJs when I got back. As it was I only had 10 minutes until class started and it is a 15 minute drive from the house. I could have gone late, jumped in wherever they were and gotten whatever I could have out of the class, but sunscreen, clothes, water, snacks, it was not going to happen. I felt guilty. I had a legitimate excuse but I felt guilty. I liked that I felt guilty though. I said it before, I don’t usually like working out. I have always be one to use any little excuse for why I can’t make it to the gym.

*Oh look, I have to re-lace my sneakers -Might as well skip the gym today.*


*What? My water bottle is in the dishwasher? Guess I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to go for a run.*


*sun is out I’ll go swim in the ocean instead of swimming laps at the gym. Then the ocean is too cold…*

A lifetime of lame excuses and never a twinge of guilt… One day of good intentions not working out and tons of guilt. I like this! Something that’s fun yet challenging, I want to be there and I am seeing results!

The best part of my week without a doubt was being told three different times that my…*Ahem* ’gut’ was looking smaller. Although my darling husband has also been telling me that I am looking thinner, fitter, and better; and to hear this from him has felt great, these were three non-family members and that felt amazing! I will admit that I took an extra glance in the mirror a few times last week to see if I noticed a difference. I do feel different - I feel better, stronger and quite often sore but thinner? I wasn’t sure. I might have been standing a little taller since the compliments. I might have held my head a bit higher and let my shoulder fall back down where they belong instead of wearing them as earrings but a flatter tummy? Maybe… I will just have to keep at it!

This week I made a promise to myself that I would make up my missed class from last week by going to four classes this week. Monday and Tuesday at my normal location – no problem! Great workouts…hard workouts. I was feeling sore and knew that Wednesday’s class was a hard core cardio class. Monday and Tuesday had been a lot of lunges and my quads were on fire. Could I run and do jacks and hard core cardio? Thursday’s class would also be a brutal (in a good way) cardio workout. Was I really this dedicated? Wouldn’t just one day of do nothing… Hanging with the kids…being bums just be so nice? We could do whatever we wanted to… No, I promised myself and I would feel better after so even though I tried to find any excuse last night for why I wouldn’t make it to class today I went to bed knowing that I would be there, sneakers on, ready to sweat.

If you don’t already know my almost 18 month old daughter still does not sleep through the night. I am sure it stems from my fear that she would wake her sister so I perpetuated a behavior that I would give just about anything to stop. I say just about anything because we haven’t given a concerted effort to getting her to sleep through the night. At any rate, after giving Lily a few ounces of water at midnight she decided to sleep through until 8am. EIGHT AM!?!?!? Why can’t you girls sleep until 8am on any random day of the week when I don’t have anywhere to be? Why on Sunday mornings do you both insist after a broken night of sleep to be up at 5:30 or 6 o’clock in the morning? Today we needed to be fed, dressed and out the door by 8:30am! I can’t get myself out the door in a half hour without kids. NO! This is not going to be the excuse for not going to class! I said I was going to go. I promised myself I was going to go. I am going to go!

Gate the girls in the living room in front of the tv and get water and snacks ready along with something to substitute for breakfast in the car. Find my sneakers somewhere in the chaos a comb through my hair and hope I have a hat in the car because I don’t have time to look for one. I didn’t. Slather both kids with sunscreen, comb their hair throw clothes and shoes on them and coax into the car. We might just make it. I am starving and I am sure the kids are too. It’s colder than I anticipated and I am worried they might be cold and cranky and hungry, but we are on our way. I inhale a protein bar argue with grace about her hair being in a ponytail and the music on the radio, but it’s 8:50am and we are out of the house.

We made it!! We had about 3 minutes to spare but we got to class and got through it. There is something though about starting your day in chaos. I was sure that once we got to class and got going the last hour and a half would just melt away. Maybe it was the fact that it’s overcast today. Maybe it is the fact that my legs feel like lead weights and I could not muster much coordination today. Maybe it is the photos Kelly took of us in class today; and unflattering butt shot of me jogging down a hill and a horrifying profile mid sit-up with a gigantic spare tire jumping from under my shirt, but I will tell you one thing…. I am motivated to get my butt (and spare tire) out of the house tomorrow morning for Stroller Strides. I am dedicated to never looking like that in another photo for the rest of my life!

Killer Cardio Thursday… Bring it on!

Project Stroller Strides: Week 2 / Endorphin High

I have now completed two weeks (six Stroller Strides classes) and I really do feel great! I am a little sore and fully exhausted at the end of class days, but I feel really good. I honestly did not expect to feel different this quickly. The difference is not so much in my energy levels, but in what I am able to do in class.  I notice I am able to go full out on our cardio bursts just a little bit longer than I could a mere two weeks ago.  I know I am able to do a few more crunches, lunges and chest presses.

 I am not always at the back of the pack anymore and that feels FANTASTIC! It is not a race or even a competition. There is absolutely no expectation that any of us Hot Mommas can perform at the same level and I truly do not think any of us try.  It's more of a competition with yourself. Can we push a little harder than yesterday, last week, last month? Are we stronger, tighter, less out of breath? But for me, not being at the back of the pack is just enough of an ego boost to keep me pushing.  And Yes, I can push a little harder. I do feel a little stronger. I keep praying for tighter.... Jiggling around while running or jumping is not a happy feeling at all!! I certainly suck a lot of wind during class but at the moment that is my indication that I am either working hard enough, too hard or not hard enough. 

I have never liked exercise.  I know, why on earth would I have gone to school for Physical Education if I don't like exercise?  I like sports. I like pushing myself. I like FUN workout classes.  I always loved aqua aerobics.  I was a swimmer and the fact that little eighty year old ladies in flowered bathing caps could whoop my butt in an aqua aerobics class was always awesome!  It was motivation to keep working at it!  I love aerobics in any form honestly.  It's not boring - it is hard, sweaty work and really gets the endorphins pumping.  Running on a treadmill... Boring! Stationary bike, Elliptical, Circuit training, Snooze! Go to the gym and try to motivate myself to work out for an hour, forget about it!  This is the polar opposite of that. And I am in class with mommies. Not 20 year old Barbie dolls starving themselves and working out 40 hours a week. Real women --Granted some of them kind of are stick figures - But since I like them I can look past this flaw!!

The best part of Stroller Strides is I look forward to it! I know it's going to be hard. I know I am going to be beet red and ready to drop dead (and sometimes I want to) but when it's all over I feel so good! I kind of feel like a big old dork who just found the newest fad and wants to go on and on and on about it to perfect strangers, but I am so loving it!  I am so proud of myself and I cannot wait to see how far I can go!