10.31.11

I had lofty intentions this month.


I wanted to meditate every day. Fail. I made it a full week and then fizzled out.


I wanted to maintain my level of fitness throughout pregnancy. Pass: I did three hours at Spin for the Cure, kept up my training for the Thanksgiving Day Race, and sought help for some lifting issues. Fail: I spent too much time focused on that, and not enough on my kid.


I wanted to tend to neglected relationships. Pass: I'm feeling positive about those connections I've made again. Fail: See above fitness Fail.


I wanted to get our finances into shape, so that we can start on that dream house. Pass. But it will continue to be a work-in-progress. The good news is that it's becoming less of a dream, and more of a reality.


I thought it was important that I keep myself accountable to you, dear reader. 


One final note on this Halloween. I think Halloween and trick-or-treating builds healthy communities. We don't get many ghosts and goblins at our house, but the ones that we do are always followed by parents and wagons (and beer!). There's always an exchange of greetings and pleasantries, and laughs about costumes and cuteness. 


I know there are plenty of neighborhoods with firepits in the cul-de-sacs, s'mores for the kids and (more beer!) for the adults. 


And at a time when communities are so often divided, I was just contemplating this evening about how Halloween does good things. Really, it's the kick-off to the more joyous, giving season.


That said, November's intention is...

10.30.11

I should have taken the healthier, less-stress approach to Will's Halloween costume this year.


In fact, as I've perused Facebook the last few days, I have thought many times, "Why didn't we just go to Old Navy and buy him a (insert adorable animal) costume?" After all, there are only so many years left of adorable animal costumes until he becomes too cool to be an elephant with floppy ears.


Instead, I took the homemade route.


I just spent the afternoon purchasing printable iron on fabric, figuring out how to make my printer print a mirror image, finding a suitable surface on which to iron the printed fabric to a shirt (my cheese board ended up the winner), and finally, splitting red duct tape in half to tape down the sides of Will's pants.


Ah yes, Will is Murray Wiggle.


And the best part is that when we tell people who he is, and when I eventually post a photo of Will in his getup, it is inevitable we hear, "Who's that?" 

That's him. 


Yep, for Halloween Will is a middle-aged Australian man who calls himself a "Wiggle" and entertains children with songs like "Hot Potato."


But with this guitar phase, and the Wiggles being his most favorite--and Murray Wiggle is the guitarist!--I can't help but dress him up in something he is somewhat proud to be.


Oh who am I kidding. Like all of our toddlers, in ten years they'll look at those photos and in some crackly tween voice declare that costume the gayest costume ever. And yes, they'll use "gay"--not without lecture, of course.


I'm totally making him a fluffy bunny next year.

10.29.11

I spent part of the afternoon letting go of my past. There were nine boxes containing thirty-one years of childhood memories that it was time to go through. I narrowed it down to two. It was a healthy process. Greg and I laughed. A lot. And I only teared up once.


What struck me as most interesting is what a role Greg played in my past. Nearly every box held some sort of card, or photo, or even diary entries with him in them. We are approaching nine years together, and gosh...nearly twenty years of knowing each other. 


I really just felt kind of lucky.


I spent the rest of the afternoon connecting with my present. Family time at the pool, and now I'll click "publish post" and join my love by the fire (in a non-kinky way). 


Healthy connections, to break and make. Perfect Saturday to do them.

10.28.11

My morning started off in one of those, "Oh good grief, it's Friday for crying out loud, why must we be starting it out in this ridiculously horrible fashion?"


And then I asked one of my first classes (as we talked about Monarch butterflies and Day of the Dead) if they knew what caterpillars make before they become butterflies, and a sweetheart of a kid said, "Canoes," and I just knew that the rest of the day was going to be okay.


There were quite a few posts in my facebook newsfeed today about friends, and being grateful for them. And while I am of course very grateful for all of my friends, today I am ridiculously proud of one.


A few years ago, this sweet pint-sized ball of energy moved to Cincinnati from the East Coast. She immediately found yogahOMe Bellevue, and became my check-in person for my Monday night classes.


The two of us would sit and talk and play around with poses. We'd discuss all things yoga, especially clothes, and she was surprised there wasn't a lululemon in Cincinnati.


I, of course, hadn't a clue what this was, but she informed me that their clothes were the bomb, and it'd be the bees knees to work there.


About a year later, this same ball of energy had the wheels in motion to open Cincinnati's first lululemon showroom.


Today, she opened a full lululemon store.


While she has always impressed me with her insane positive attitude and crazygood zest for life, I am absolutely floored at the power she had in manifesting this dream of hers to reality.


I am inspired.


If you haven't been to a lululemon near you, find one. You can't help but smile in the store, surrounded by what can only be described as good vibes. It's like you leave on a contact high from their energy. They are truly ambassadors of health, and today, I have to send love and gratitude to the entire Cincinnati lulu team. Rock on. And way to go JB!


Oh, and their clothes really are the bomb.


On a side note, this caterpillar took her canoe to lulu after work, and the goodies I stocked up on helped me become a much happier butterfly on this Friday afternoon.

10.27.11

I've spent a lot of time blogging this month about finding a healthy balance.


Truly, I thought I hit pay dirt in the working-mom-still-time-for-self balance. 


But when you try to do it all, you end up neglecting something. It may not be apparent immediately, but it eventually comes around, as it did for me today.


Turns out I mastered the working-still-time-for-self-balance. 


My mom role has plunged faster than the Dow.


Cue guilt and tears.


The last three weeks of working late at the day job, running to teach an evening class, and spending the bits of time left at the gym trying to maintain some sort of physique, followed by rushing home, slurping dinner and heading to bed (and ushering Will from here to there and back again), well, it's not balance.


And as I rushed yesterday to get home, make dinner, welcome the sitter and head off to class again, all while Will pleaded with me to "Sit down, mama!" I should've seen today's conversation coming.


I went to pick up Will this afternoon. His teacher greeted me at the door with, "Is there something going on at home? Will hasn't had a very good week."


My heart fell.


"He's been hitting, pushing, throwing toys, and in general acting out. Time outs don't seem to be working," she continued, "So I decided today maybe he just needs some extra love--some extra cuddles." 


My teacher thinking immediately flashed to kids who crave any kind of attention--good or bad--when they aren't getting enough at home. 


I don't think my heart could have fallen any further. Mom fail.


Lucky for me his teacher is an incredibly kind, caring woman, with four kids of her own, and she was very quick to say it could be anything. 


So we got into the car. I called Greg and left a teary voicemail about how we had to skip the gym, and basically change our approach to how we've been living life.


And maybe it's not just cutting back on gym time--maybe it's cutting back on life, on refocusing our priorities.


What it is for sure, is continuing to find that healthy balance. 


Need to rent I Don't Know How She Does It. Stat.

10.26.11

Thirty-two years ago, the crazy kid I married was born.


I don't know that his parents realize what a gem they welcomed into the world on that day, so tonight, this blog post is for them--for his dad, who may or may not read this on his iPhone (he's 74!), and for his mom, who's spirit can be felt whenever too many dust bunnies collect in the corners of my house (she would make Greg vacuum every night after dinner).


Thank you, Margie and Peter, for raising a son with the smarts to never really crack a book, and not only skate by just fine in his schooling, but continue to beat me at my strength games, like Boggle and Scrabble (which are now banned from our house).


Thank you for a son who has a dry, sarcastic sense of humor, who is always the first one to get me laughing when things get intense, even if Monty Python stuff is still beyond my comprehension.


Thank you for a son raised by an engineer, who taught him how to fix stuff, break stuff, and put it back together. It has saved us a fortune in home repairs.


Thank you for a son who considers all options--often multiple times for far too long--before making a decision.


Thank you for allowing your son to make mistakes, and being forgiving (I'm thinking of a certain pyro incident that happened around the age of 12). It will make him a great father figure when we need it the most.


Thank you for giving him a thirst for knowledge of all things random. If I need to know who invented gum, or the name of a baseball player from the 1950s, I have a breathing encyclopedia to help me out.


Thank you for giving him the ability to carry a tune. That singing voice wooed me from the moment I heard it, and I still feel woozy when I hear it, even if he is singing Wiggles tunes.


But I think what I thank you for the most is for shaping him into the husband and father he is at thirty-two. I know he looks for your approval, Peter, and I know he misses you, Margie, every day. You should know that he is kind, generous, intelligent, handy, hilarious, romantic, athletic, driven, sensitive, strong, vivacious, and, well, wonderful.


Happy Birthday, my love.

10.25.11

I spent part of my plan bell today feeding my brain.


I don't have nearly enough time to read. Plain and simple. I would love to squeeze in a novel, a three page article, or even a blog post here and there. But it'd be just that--squeezing--and I don't have time to think about what I read, which irritates me.


Today I was presented with a good 40 minutes of time to nourish my brain, and so I did just that.


Familiar with elephant journal? If not, link to it and love it. It's an online magazine, geared to yogis and vegans and democrats and non-yogis, carnivores, and republicans. There truly is something for everyone, and yeah, it's generally political in nature. Sign up for their weekly emails. It's free, and you get to see the top ten most read articles each week, which is handy for someone like me who puts "reading" and "being able to eat salty greasy foods after 8:00" into the same category (which would be "Things I no longer do"). 


And then you get to think about what you read. It's awesome.


This week's elephant journal weekly email is where I linked to this gem by Michael Boyle, excerpt below, which got me thinking (and since I like to think after what I read, this adhered to my goal):


We work hard to be sustainable and charitable, recognizing that it is a duty of being human to give more than we take. Not only is it a responsibility, but contributing to something greater than “I”, “me” and “mine” is the #1 factor in cultivating a life of joy and happiness. So, hopefully we can remember to use the Internet only enough to gain inspiration to get out there and live a real life!


Aside from the fact that our society should probably step away from our computer screens and start doing things instead of just watching them, reading them, or witnessing others do them, I found myself also thinking about the role of this blog. After all, it's on the internet.


What's my intention really? If someone takes two minutes to load it and read it, what do I want them to get out of it? Is it to inspire? Who am I inspiring? Is this about reaching out to others, or is it about self-help--for me? 


I believe my initial intention was to help myself. How can I be, think, love, live better? Turns out this blog has fulfilled me in that aspect. In fact, it's been one of the healthiest moves I've made--emotionally and mentally, I allow myself to check-in, every evening, and see what's good. 


And being okay with what isn't.


To take it one step further, I share these sometimes incredibly personal thoughts with the world. Well, the facebook world and the people who google things like, "cartoon people tripping over a rock" and stumble across me (no pun intended, but really google?).


It makes me vulnerable. I risk being judged. I hate thinking that someone is judging my thoughts and words, and holy cow. What a lesson in letting go of that fear! 


But for as much as it has brought to me, I (think!) it has brought just as much to all of you. Your response, both publicly and privately has at times brought me to tears. 


So to Mr. Boyle in his quote above: thank you for a.) allowing me to read today, and think--about how I give back, and how I'm doing my human being duty, and how I'm using the internet. Just enough. 


I'll now close the laptop, turn around, and keep living life.


Until tomorrow.

10.24.11

It's important to develop a healthy attitude in Will about his upcoming new sibling, as it is for any first born child who will quickly and sadly realize that it's not all about him anymore.


Up until, well, today, he was A-OK with being a big brother, giving the baby kisses, etc.


And then we had this conversation today.


Me: Will, is mommy going to have a baby?
Will: NO!
Me: Will, I think mommy is going to have a baby.
Will: NO!
Me: Do you want to be a big brother Will?
Will: NO!
Me: Well buddy, you don't have a choice at this point. Are you sure you don't want mommy to have a baby?
Will: I want mommy have a punkin.


Fair enough. Punkin it is. I'll need to get one of those pumpkin hats on clearance next week so he's not disappointed in March.

10.23.11

If I've learned anything in these nine years of teaching, it's that family dinners and family traditions make a world of difference in a child's temperament, happiness and overall well-being. One might say that these kids with strong family ties are happier...and healthier.


I suppose this is part of the reason I'm so mushy when it comes to our own family traditions. I envision Will saying twenty years from now, "I remember when my family did (insert tradition) for (insert holiday)."


So after the pumpkin patch last weekend, it was time to decorate the gourds. Greg carved, and Will and I painted.


First, he chose the ironic path: orange paint on an orange pumpkin.

Then, my failed attempts at getting him to wash and dry the brush between colors lead to a healthy habit of letting go of the idea of him staying clean. Eh, it was washable paint.

Alas, our traditional Halloween display.

We wrapped up the day with a family dinner.


And although I won't use this as complete confirmation, whenever Will spontaneously declares, "Happy!" I can't help but think we are doing something right.

10.22.11

Greg's birthday this Wednesday marks the start of what I've fondly come to call "My Five Pound Season." It begins with birthday cake and continues with Halloween candy, Thanksgiving, more birthday cake, and oh yes, holiday delights.

I can't say that I enjoy those five pounds, although this year at least it's going to a good, "healthy" cause (growing a baby is a good cause, right?), and I shall try my best to keep my mitts off the two bags of candy I purchased (for our, on average, 8 trick-or-treaters) between now and next Monday.

A healthy bet would be that only one bag remains.

10.21.11

This week's evenings proved to be too long.


I cried too many times, and it wasn't out of exhaustion or stress.


Quite simply, I missed my son.


Too many nights I walked in as he was crawling into bed. I was able to read him a story or two, cover him in kisses, and turn off his light. 


But I didn't get to do afternoon snack time, and I didn't get to build block towers, and I didn't get to put puzzles together, or during dinner ask him who he played with, or what songs he learned in music class.


So when I picked him up today, I didn't want to let go, so much so that I lugged his 35 pounds in my arms as we picked up a few things at Target. He gladly let me sweat it out, snuggling in as much as he could.


I think he missed me, too.


I had a nice quiet day at work, and I was ready for a decent workout, but the thought of him spending more time in someone else's care wasn't going to work for me tonight. The therapy I needed was a healthy dose of Will.


So I picked up a few Servatti's treats, Greg picked up pizza, we watched a bit of Toy Story, put together puzzles, built block towers, and played guitar.


And now it's almost time to read books again. I'll kiss that sweet face goodnight, take stuffed animal attendance, refill his water one more time, and I'll turn off the light.


And I won't cry.

10.20.11

Healthy Tips for Parent-Teacher Conference Night (my apologies to the non-teachers who read the blog):

• Before leaving for work on the morning of your conference night, make sure you do the following things: pack your makeup for pre-conference touch-ups (especially under eye concealer--by the 12th hour, you'll need it); make sure freezer and/or pantry is appropriately stocked with comfort foods; chill bottle of wine.
• Upon receiving your list of expected parents that morning, make sure you tell Johnny or Suzie at the beginning of class that you can't wait to meet his or her mom that night. It could make your day extra quiet (and pleasant).
• Dinner is at 3:00. It's best consumed quickly so you can feel bloated for your first conference at 4:00. Be sure to wash it down with one of the 87 PTA mom desserts. 
• Skip dinner and just have one of the (incredibly delicious--who needs dinner?!) 87 PTA mom desserts.
• Before a particularly difficult conference, it seems appropriate to pray/meditate/ask for spiritual and/or Divine guidance.
• If you feel that you will be running behind due to said particularly difficult conferences, place a few chairs outside your door to make other parents comfortable. For an extra advantage, put out a bowl of candy for waiting parents to snack on. They will come to you jazzed and excited, and if they are fidgety enough they won't stay too long.
• Be sure to open with some corny comic relief. For example, if a student has a 105% in your class, let your opening line be, "Suzie just isn't working hard enough in here!" Cue the hardy-har-har, immediate ice broken.
• Have a box of Kleenex within arm's reach. Sometimes talking about kids can be emotional.
• There's nothing wrong with having back-up. When you fear a parent, request someone else be in on the conference with you. You only need to be chewed up and spit out once, and it doesn't need to be on conference night.
• When the child accompanies the parent(s) to the conference, take special note of the amount of fear (or lack thereof) they have in the presence of their parents. It can be very telling--and useful!--in future situations.
• If a conference is particularly dull, sit and ponder whether the student looks more like mom or dad. 
• Before packing up for the evening, make sure the following day's lesson plans include one or all of the following: silent classwork, quiz or test, video.
• Also before packing up, if a jeans day isn't planned for the following day, see supervisor and beg. 
• As you arrive home, pat yourself on the back. You only have to do these 14 hour days a few times a year. With any luck, you survive--with your sanity and health intact.

10.19.11

Unhealthy confessions.

• I just opted for KFC popcorn chicken for dinner instead of soup.
• I dangled upside down for a bit in a few inversions tonight. I'm pretty sure if my OB saw me doing those kinds of things, I'd be reprimanded. And put on bed rest.
• I took the Facebook app off my phone over the summer because it was becoming a habit I hated. Facebook and I now have a much healthier relationship. Well, it's mostly because I'm not sitting on my couch eating bonbons and watching soap operas anymore (because that's what all teachers do during the summer, right?).
• If the Cardinals win the World Series, I will react with great sadness, much like the Steelers winning, well, anything. It's not normal to "hate" other teams. And yet, I do.
• I should not be permitted to drive at night in the rain. I scare myself, as well as other drivers. Do they make prescription eyeglasses for this handicap? 

Happy Hump Day!

10.18.11

On my way home from work today I passed a black billboard that read "Are you prepared for a disaster?" It then gave me a three step process I should follow to get prepared:
1. Get a kit (a first-aid kit was pictured)
2. Make a plan (it showed a picture of a clipboard, so I should probably get a clipboard, too)
3. Stay informed (to do this, I should apparently consult my laptop, since that's what they were showing)


My first thought was, "If there's a 'disaster,' I'm going to need more than an ace bandage and Neosporin, and a laptop that probably won't have internet access."


My second thought was, "Why is it necessary to make the general public live in fear?" 


From billboards that proclaim a disaster is imminent, to the grandmother of the student I have who apparently has a basement full of bottled water and chicken noodle soup as she anticipates the new End of the World date (10/21), to the newscasters that tout you with things like, "Are your windshield wipers giving you cancer?" I have to believe that if these things aren't making us sick, the sheer worry and living in fear probably is.


This can't be healthy. 


And now I reflect on the "fear" tactics I use in my classroom.


More than once I've uttered the words, "If you do it one more time, I'm _________." Insert threat: signing your card, writing a referral, calling your mom, etc. 


Is there an age when fear is appropriate? And what about the fear that keeps us from doing silly things, like jumping off bridges without parachutes or bungee cords? Right? Or, what about the fears that happen for a fleeting moment, that drag us down deep, but then we rise up and realize all is well? Are those okay to have?


So maybe certain fears are healthy, and others simply not so. We have to individually differentiate between what is a good fear or a bad fear.


But then we also have to take it a step further by not allowing the fears to consume us. 


Ah yes, easier said than done.


Here is where I should offer up some sort of sage advice, right? Some phenomenal meditation or other practice that allows you to release your fears? 


Fact of the matter is, I'm not even good at that myself. I had a pretty big baby scare yesterday, and as I'm completely consumed by the worst scenario imaginable, someone says to me, "Remember your yoga philosophy. Stay positive." In that moment, right there, I one hundred percent could do nothing but cry and wallow and freak out like freaking was going out of style. 


So for me to say, "Stop and breathe and don't worry," well, I need a good healthy dose of my own medicine first.


My moment of intense fear passed, everything is perfectly okay with the baby, and I found some clarity in the situation, but fear was all-consuming at the time. 


I suppose where I made the healthy decision, is that I let the fear lie in the past, and I'll move forward without it.

10.17.11

I saw this quote today on a tinybuddha post on facebook:


"Our greatness lies not so much in being able to remake the world as being able to remake ourselves." -Gandhi


If I recall correctly, Gandhi also said, "Be the change you wish to see in the world." 


The two quotes speak volumes for me as tomorrow begins our first session on bullying in Advisory class.


I have a group of really, very sweet sixth graders, and at least one of them is a sneaky bully, who has recently been called out on her antics. Sadly, bullying isn't just stealing lunch money and giving swirlies these days--it has been taken to brand new levels with the online and texting bit thrown in the mix.


So I'm nervous about tomorrow. I'm nervous about them having the courage to be okay with speaking up, about discussing how a bully makes them feel. And then I'm nervous about them leaving me after our thirty minutes of work and going back to being a bully or letting it happen. 


I want this to be a healthy discussion, with healthy results. 


But if I am going by Gandhi, I can only resolve to change me, not others.


What I need to do is just that: be the change. I have to stop any and all bullying behaviors in my room. The "capping" on each other, the put-downs, the little under-the-breath one-liners--I have to take a stand, and make them not tolerated. If a kid throws a verbal punch at me, I've got to quit with my sarcastic zingers back. I need a plan that I follow through with if students choose to push forward with their remarks anyway. 


I have to be the healthy example.

10.16.11

My sister-in-law wins the prize for Most Exciting Sunday for Will. Not only did she invite us to this phenomenal pumpkin farm for a hay ride, all-you-can-pick pumpkins and delicious pot luck spread after, but she also bought Will a little kid guitar.


He played it in the car all the way to the farm, and all the way home.


He played it on the floor after bath time.

And there are unhealthier role models he could pick aside from Murray Wiggle, as seen here emulating him in "Play your Guitar with Murray." (My favorite part are the head bobs.)

And for now, I'll take adorable obsessive guitar playing over excessive anything else. 

10.15.11

We went for the early bird special at our favorite Mexican joint, and although I couldn't join the other suburban moms in a margarita toast, I was at least in good company. The elderly were nowhere in sight--just young families, juggling toddlers and babies and chips and salsa.


But instead of heading to Target as we typically would, we turned right instead of left and headed to our dream neighborhood--you know, just to drive by, pretend we live there, and pick out the lot du jour we'd like to build on. 


It's a pretty tangible dream at this point. Although not imminent, we are working on getting the house healthy (greg scrubbed the moss off the roof today) as well as our finances, and it is my hope that someday in the nearer future I'll be able to blog, "We're doing it." 

10.14.11

Random thoughts on health.

• A former co-worker and gal I coached with has two of the most beautiful adopted children in the whole world. One had surgery today--he's not quite a year old, and although her updates make him appear he's doing well, I'm sending very speedy recovery wishes to the little guy. And sanity wishes to mom.
• Threw a little dinner party tonight in honor of my dad's birthday, and I had to make a vegetarian gluten-free meal. I can handle the vegetarian part, but the gluten-free threw me for a loop. I have a facebook friend with this great gluten free blog of her original recipes, so if you are one of those G-Free folks, check it out. 
• I think all four of our animals have fleas. This is going to make for a pet health focused weekend. 
• I purchased a tub of cookie dough through one of our school's various fundraisers. It was Otis Spunkmeyer Strawberry Shortcake--a sugar cookie with white chocolate chips and dried bits of strawberry--and they came pre-portioned. Sadly, I gave the whole tub and the ones I've already baked to my little sister tonight. They did not make this baby happy, er, they made mom sick. It's a shame because they were freaking delicious.
• Tomorrow presents us with absolutely nothing on our calendar. It will be the most amazing mental health Saturday I've had in weeks. Cheers. To. That.

10.13.11

We decided it would be unhealthy for Will to spend four evenings in a row at the day care at the gym, so we opted instead for a quiet family night, complete with freshly baked cookies for dessert. Just because it was Thursday. And okay, maybe I was craving one or two. 


I think it's funny what I currently constitute a "healthy" meal these days, and primarily it's dictated by what Will eats. Tonight he had two bananas, about a dozen tortellini, and raisins. Often times dinner isn't even that diverse, and only involves yogurt and graham crackers, to which I justify there is a dairy, protein, fruit, and grain all in one. Yep, it's stretching it a bit.


It really is kind of silly the inner pride I feel when Will consumes something like green beans or apples. It's like I can see the vitamins doing their job in his little body to make him grow strong. You know, strong enough to rip necklaces off my neck when he's mad we have to leave the park. Hmmmm, maybe I should resort to less healthy options.


Again, these things I never thought about until I became a mom.


Speaking of becoming a mom, November 14th is our scheduled big reveal day for the current baking bun. I'll be nearly 22 weeks, but apparently the doctors will be slammed with ultrasounds until then. Alas, I shall wait patiently. Er, I'll try to be patient. 

10.12.11

Quick! You have seven minutes until your next parent conference, after which you are booked solid for an hour and twenty minutes. What do you do?


You jump on and blog because you know as soon you get home, you are kicking off those infamous purple suede ruffle heels and diving right into bed!


This is how you take a mini mental health break. 


I'm going to wrap it up with a little quote (that I googled in my remaining three minutes before the next set of parents walks through the door). I've may have a ridiculous schedule today, but I'm feeling pretty harmonious:


Health is a state of complete harmony of the body, mind and spirit.  When one is free from physical disabilities and mental distractions, the gates of the soul open.  ~B.K.S. Iyengar

10.11.11

There's a sweet spot with Will--or rather, we've come to call it the "sweet spot."


It doesn't involve a golf club hitting a ball at the perfect place, or a masseuse digging out that knot in your back just so. 


Rather, it is the time between the hours of 7 p.m. and 8 p.m. 


This sweet period of time is the opposite of the witching hour; there are no tantrums, no screaming. He doesn't throw shoes, bang on dog bowls with wooden spoons, beg to have apple juice, or chase Kitty around the house. Instead, he makes up songs, tells stories, and cooperates. He begs to have books read, to watch baseball with dad, to color on his easel.


As we get minutes closer to that bedtime of eight o'clock, he gets a bit more cuddly, and a bit more loving. 


This sweet spot does wonders for my mental health. When I look back on the age of two, I hope that it's this hour that I remember the most...


...Not the number of shoes thrown at my head from the back seat of the car.

10.10.11

Confessions of a pregnant lady.

1. For lunch today, I had two pieces of cake. Each bite was delicious. Each piece was washed down with a couple of Tums.
2. Not only did I have coffee this morning, but I had a Mountain Dew this afternoon. I'm not concerned that it may have been too much. I feel like I at least chose caffeine over, say, something like an entire bottle of wine, so it was a good, healthy decision.
3. I wore a skirt with an elastic waist band, and I still wasn't comfortable today. It might, in effect, be time to break out maternity pants tomorrow, and I am SO not okay with it. Why? 
4. Upon picking up my son at KidsFit at the gym, he threw a toy back into the room as he ran out the door. A mom dropping her own son off, stood there and stared at me, as though I were the worst. Mom. EVER. I finally caught her eye, and she says, "Well don't look at me." Really? Because your kid is perfect? And then in true pregnancy hormone fashion, I said to Greg once she was out of earshot, "..." well, I can't repeat it on the blog. Let's just say it wasn't very yogi like.
5. For dessert, I had a spoonful of that delicious Biscoff-in-a-jar. The healthy part of this is that I stopped after a spoonful, and did not consume the rest of the jar.
6. A few times today, people felt the need to discuss with me how your feet can grow when you are pregnant. No, this did not happen to me with Will, and as these various people told me their Bigfoot feet growing stories, I cried a little on the inside. The thought of not wearing my purple suede ruffle-heeled shoes is just too much. So please, no more talk of Sasquatch feet.
7. When you ask me how many weeks I am, I round up to the next one. Just know that when you ask. It's like pressing "speed bake" on my oven. 
8. Yep, I'll let you know what we're having. Nope, not gonna tell you the name. When I know what the name is, you'll know, and you can stop holding your breath and hoping I'll cave because it won't be until the peanut is here!

10.9.11

Unhealthy is scheduling a day full of activities and forgetting to schedule your two-year-old's nap.


But there's absolutely nothing wrong with letting him crash on your lap at 6 p.m. The snuggles are healthy for me.


If only he still fit on my lap...

10.8.11

So I posted photos this morning from the Spin for the Cure event. It was, without a doubt, a phenomenal experience, and while I'm incredibly humbled by the whole event (um, it was hard), I was also filled with pride for doing it, and lasting as long as I did (for the record, I don't know that I could have done all four hours. My legs were cramping and after four bottles of water and a bathroom that was up two flights of stairs, the fourth hour seemed far too long).


There were four different instructors, one for each hour, and the first instructor did a tremendous job of focusing us mentally. I spent the first fifteen minutes in a meditative mindset. I closed my eyes and practiced that loving kindness meditation, sending it to all those affected with breast cancer, ones I know, ones that were in the room, and everyone else.


I have to give credit to my healthy habits and ways to my dad, who turns 59 today. He has always encouraged me to be athletic (even though I will never play soccer--ever--again), to be active and to stay healthy--not just physically but he's always looked out for my emotional well-being. So dad, happy happy happy birthday! And thanks. I'll toast you tonight with the enormous Terry's burger my body cannot wait to consume. 

10.7.11

Seven straight days of meditation make you slightly more peaceful. That's gotta be good for your health.


So although I wasn't surprised to catch Will in this little moment of respite, it took my breath away...gave me goosebumps...melted my heart.


As we've been doing every afternoon this week with this incredible weather, we spent our post-work/post-daycare time in the backyard. Today I left the back door open and Will was running in and out. I was answering some emails on my phone, and when I looked up, I saw this.

Little man, sitting in half lotus on a peaceful afternoon in the middle of nature, looking at family photos, in an album with this quote on the front of it:


Praise bright blue skies and dark rain clouds. Lift happy voices upon the morning air. Murmur sweet words softly in the evening breeze. Be present in all things and thankful for all things. 
-Maya Angelou


On this day alone I am incredibly grateful for this intention project; for giving myself seven days of training my mind to be still; for setting the healthy example for my son; for being present enough to notice what he was doing, and taking the moment to be the witness.

10.6.11

My son likes trucks. He likes pushing big dump trucks around the house, chasing after the dogs. He points out dump trucks as we drive along, wherever we are. He likes putting dirt into them in the backyard, and he likes picking up things around the house and taking them to the garbage can.


My son also likes building with blocks. He likes making big towers, then knocking them down while letting out a squeal of destructive delight.


My son also likes watching ESPN in the morning with his dad, and this summer, we spent the last fifteen minutes before bed at night watching baseball. 


My son also likes Dorothy the Dinosaur. He loves when she goes and does ballet on The Wiggles.


Today I asked him who he played with at school. He said "Pippa and Evie!" 


I can't help but love a girl named Pippa. Ms. Middleton sealed the deal on that one.


"What'd you do with Pippa and Evie?"


"We dood ballet!" 


Without skipping a beat, I asked, "Can you show me some moves?" 


He hopped around a bit, and then Greg walked into the room.


"Did you do this Will?" he asked, as he demonstrated a lovely arabesque balance.


Will looked at him, grinned, and gave it a shot. Upon falling into a fit of giggles, I realized we had just done some seriously healthy parenting.


Encourage my child to explore any and everything that interests him? Not give in to gender stereotypes? Not be afraid of typical "non-male" activities?


Yes please. To all of the above. 

10.5.11

Two things brought me the highest of happiness today.


1. Greg was declared to be in tremendous health. Whatever has plagued him for the last month is on its way out of his system and we have literally nothing to worry about. His procedure went perfectly, and the stories he told in the recovery room (sometimes six times) were hilarious. I'm not sure I can fully express how relieved I am, although, if you ever stop to imagine life without your spouse, I suppose that says it all. I look forward to years and years and years--healthy ones--with him.


2. My mom sent me the most amazing delicious treat in a jar today. Ever had those Biscoff cookies on airplanes? Apparently they make a Biscoff cookie spread--it is literally happiness in a jar, and while Greg slept off his sedation, I attacked that jar like it was my job. I have never seen it here in Cincinnati, so Cincinnati readers, if you've seen it, point me in the right direction! Otherwise, I'll be stocking up when in NJ! That or my mom's postal fund is going to need to grow! And to make it blog relevant, this stuff is not healthy. At all. I didn't even look at the label. I can taste it. And I'm totally okay with that.


My yin and my yang, healthy and unhealthy, and the source of my happiness today.

10.4.11

Oh Universe. Do you hear what I'm thinking? Or do you just send me the right thing at the right time? If it's the latter, your timing is uncanny.


So this new spinning instructor started at our gym (I talked about her a few weeks ago). She's phenomenal. Heck, within five minutes of meeting her she had me convinced that Spin for the Cure was totally something I needed to do. And that it was legitimately healthy at four months pregnant. (Because it is. Looking forward to my eighty minute ride Saturday morning with my stepmom and her friend...and excited that I could donate a comfortable amount, which is not to the tune of $300.)


Her third class was tonight. Know what her format is? Yin and yang. (Cue light shining from above and choir of angels singing "aaaaaaahhh" harmoniously.)


We do 45 minutes of hard core spinning (yang) and 15 minutes of yoga (yin). 


Given that I was literally just. Talking. About. Finding. This. Exact. Balance. I was in heaven tonight. Perfectly balanced. 


Thank you, Universe. (Again.)

10.3.11

Remember when we decided to tear up our yard five days before HGTV came so we could fix our basement flooding/drainage problem once and for all? 


And remember when we didn't finish? And it was a pile of mud spruced up with some impatiens (lipstick on a pig, really) for the shooting of the show? 


Well, it took the show finally airing five months later to actually finish this project.


Which means it sat as a mud pit, and then the most beautiful weed patch you've ever seen through the entire summer.


Greg finally finished it this weekend.


Crazy styrofoam peanut wrapped pipe in the ground.

Everything covered up and lovely.

Oh, and taking a ride in the "dump truck."

So the health of our house is that much more secure. At least it is for the next ten days, as there isn't a raindrop in sight in the forecast. 


But oh a dry basement will be so nice!


The grand total of said project, start to finish, was around $1300 with pipe purchase and rental equipment (including two different bobcats/ditch witches and one dumpster). Considering we were quoted $10k-$13k, I'd say we kept the health of our bank account in check! 

10.2.11

I strive to create a healthy balance of yin and yang throughout the course of the week.


I say "week" because it's often difficult--for me--to strike that balance in a day. 


A few days ago, I posted about being superhuman--about multi-tasking and getting it all done and the secret being one simple word: breathe.


There's the yin to the yang--remembering to take a deep breath, refocus on where you are, who you are, and what you're doing--in the middle of chaos. 


Truth is, I'm not superhuman. (Gasp! She's not?) No, I'm not. Those "getting it all done" days are maybe once a week. Maybe.


The rest of the time, I'm treading water just like the rest of us. Sometimes, I don't even tread water. I sit on the side of the pool and watch everyone else work their tails off.


It's a balance...doing too much, not doing enough, and not necessarily finding the inbetween but being absolutely okay at either end of the spectrum. 


And I am.


Today I attended a yin workshop. In yoga, yin is slowing down, easing into poses, never forcing something that isn't there. 


Even though I did spend 99% of the practice in my breath, in the pose, feeling the muscles, then the fluid, then the connective tissues and joints start to open, I spent 1% of it flashing to intentions for the world to find this beautiful balance: slowing down, even in the middle of chaos.


So while Greg is dragging the ditch digger through the side yard to fix our drainage as I type, and I've got my fantasy scores alerting on my phone, and a random NFL game on TV, and papers to grade on the chair, I'm practicing my yin...a cup of tea, a warm blanket, and a deep breath. It might be my only respite this week.