Spring Renewal

I was trying to figure out why I felt so energized this Spring compared to other years.

I mean, I really went after the side yard yesterday with the rake while the kids napped (monitors are a wonderful invention). I found it gratifying- the raking out of the dead leaves, freeing the bushes of their winter holdings and opening them up to new growth.

When on earth did I find yard work to be fun? Meaningful?

I thought back to when we moved in- April 2010. I was 5 months pregnant and working full-time. Wasn't feeling yard beautification, was just trying to make my childhood home into my new home.

April 2011: Rosie was about 7 months old. Not a great napper. In retrospect, I was still trying to survive. Definitely didn't care about raking. And, as it turns out, I was pregnant again and didn't know it yet!

April 2012: Rosie was 1.5 years old and Buddy was 3 months old. Year two of survival mode, although was feeling surprisingly better than the year before (maybe because I wasn't pregnant?).

April 2013: Rosie is 2.5 and Buddy is 1. Reliable nap times that I can usually count on to get things done. Not pregnant, in fact, 55 lbs lighter than I was last year at this time.

It was starting to make sense. I eat better therefore I feel better. I'm not pregnant and don't have a newborn on me at all times for the first time in four years. It's no wonder that I now feel like I can tackle more things- yard work, blogging, wine making. Wine making has been mostly Steve's venture for the last four years, but this year I finally feel like I can help more and not just enjoy the result.

This Spring I really feel like I'm coming into my own. My kids are a huge part of my life. But they're not me. I am a separate person and I need, not just want, to do things that are just for me. I don't think I've ever felt as good as I do right now.

My Daughter's World

In Rosie's world, the desk in her room is a stove and in each of the four drawers, she is baking "sandwiches"- two larger books with a smaller book in between. "One for each of us", she tells me.

It's one where TV remotes are beds for her little people, a 12 pack of paper towels is a bed for her, and the dining room is a splash park to run around in with her swimsuit on.

Animals, little people and My Little Ponies converge on counters and carpets to share ice cream cones made of Duplos.

It's where she's a Princess, I am "Queen Mommy", Steve is "King Daddy" and Buddy is "Prince Buddy". One of my shirts is a princess dress that we clip in the back with a clothespin to not make it as droopy. It's the only "dress" she will wear when she's a Princess.

It's where she's Minnie Mouse, walking around the house with a bag because she is forever trick-or-treating. Red, yellow, blue and green wooden shapes are the "treats" she gives to everyone who crosses her path.

In Rosie's world, house plants are watered with tea kettles and both the vacuum and thermometer, two items she was previously scared of, have voices that suspiciously sound like Mom's, and "talk" to her when they are cleaning the floor or being swiped across her forehead.

It's a world not much unlike the one I imagine I had at one time. That world is just beyond my grasp in my memory- a world where I played with My Little Ponies, Barbies and Matchbox cars for hours.

Watching my daughter, in her own little world, has been one of my greatest joys and surprises of parenting. Sometimes, I try to join in and she lets me. Other times, when the dining room is a splash park, and I tell her the living room is a beach, she explains to me exasperatedly: "No, Mom. It's the living room!" and runs back off to her world.

The Trouble is...

Lately, I can't stop saying enough "I love you's".

To my husband, my daughter, my son, my friends.

Life seems particularly fragile lately. I know it's probably an aftereffect from the Marathon Bombings, the Texas Fertilizer Plant Explosion, and other violent happenings in the past week. Death feels a little more random. With these events, I can't stop thinking about how it happened to every day people.

People who probably liked things like sleeping in, catching a movie, listening to loud music in the car with the windows down, enjoying a cold beer while sitting around a camp fire.

People like you and me, who probably thought their day was going to go just like any other day in their life.

I've been thinking about this Buddha quote a lot: "The trouble is, you think you have time".

How many times have I thought "Oh, I'll do that tomorrow, next week, next month, next year." What if today is my last day? I don't think I can go about my life thinking that way because it would get in the way of every day living and it's almost too exhausting to think about it constantly.

What I can do is: Nuzzle my kids more, tickle them more, rub their backs more, show my love more. I can tell my husband over and over what a great job he did on the barn door, because he deserves the praise, and sometimes I'm not as vocal as I should be. I can make time for things I enjoy in life- writing, reading, genealogy, and outings with friends because life can get dull when you only do what you have to do and not what you like to do.

I can put a little more effort into every day and say "I love you" without abandon.

Why do anything but?

Crossing Paths

Steve and I went to the Hu Ke Lau for the first time Saturday night.

Pu Pu platter, Scorpion Bowl and Paula Poundstone? Oh, yeah.

We were sat at a table for four people, and knew we would have some people joining us. Sure enough, about 20 minutes later, a couple in their late 40's- early 50's were led to the table by the waitress.

Within five minutes, without much cajoling, we found out that "Chris" had bought the tickets for "Lisa" as a surprise today, that Chris considered Paula Poundstone to be a (insert extremely inappropriate profanity here), and that they had five kids between them from previous marriages, ages ranging from 7-30.

Whew. That was a lot of information in a short period of time. Already, nearby tables were casting disapproving looks.

Alright, I was ready to take this on. I would never see these people again, I only had to deal with them until Paula hit the stage, and I like to think I can have a conversation with just about anyone. Topics weaved all over the place. When Chris became a little too forceful with some of his opinions (i.e. I should be day trading since I'm a stay at home Mom and have a computer), Steve or I would change the subject.

I had met people like him before. People who felt the need to explain themselves, over and over, so other people would accept them. I recognized it and went with it. Before I knew it, the lights had dimmed and Paula Poundstone was walking onstage.

It wasn't until after the show, when Steve and I were walking out, that I realized God had placed us with them intentionally. He knew we could handle them, while other customers simply would not have. I'm coming more and more to believe that it's not by chance that we cross paths with certain people. It's fate.

It's really easy to sit inside my "bubble" in Goshen, interacting with a small range of people on a daily basis. For 45 minutes, I was put in a situation where I had to talk to people who had a completely different life (Chad had been married 5 times, for example) and a viewpoint that wasn't anything like my own. It opened my eyes a little.

How differently would we see the world if we saw every encounter not as coincidence but as something to learn from?

Weight Loss- the Mental Part

This time, I really wanted it.

Really wanted to feel good about myself again, really wanted to feel comfortable in jeans again, really wanted to reclaim my body after having two babies.

If not now, when was I going to do it? When was I going to stop making excuses?

I stopped baking (much to my family's dismay). I just couldn't have cookies, cupcakes, or cake in the house. I stopped coming up with reasons why I deserved a coffee and donut from Dunkin Donuts. I made myself stop binging on sweets when I was "having a bad day" or "the kids were being extra tough".

3 meals, 2 snacks, 2 squares of dark chocolate. Water all day.

I made myself stick to that about 90% of the time and it paid off. It's a lot of self control. It's eating only half of what you are served in a restaurant, because the whole serving is probably at least 1000 calories. It's getting an ice cream cone at your favorite seasonal place, but only getting the Pee Wee size, because that's all you really need. It's getting your favorite order- Crabcake Po'boy- from your favorite snack bar, but not getting the fries and soda you usually got with it. It's eating a little more on date night with your husband, but not letting it change the way you ate the rest of the day or the day after.

Most of all, it's about wanting to make a change in your life more than you want that cookie, or that extra scoop of ice cream.

About a month before I started my weight loss journey, I read something online about goals versus expectations, and how if they don't match, you set yourself up for failure.

If you ask someone: "What is your weight loss goal?"
They might respond: "To lose 20 lbs in 3 months".
Then if you ask them: "What do you actually expect to happen 3 months from now?"
Common response: "I'll be really good about my diet and exercise for a week then I will probably go back to my old ways".

That was definitely me! I would try to "diet" by pretty much eating nothing, wouldn't lose any weight, and go back to the way I ate before within a week.

After reading that article, I thought- no, I can do better than that. I really want this. My goal and my expectation of myself was to lose weight until I felt comfortable again in my skin.

I did not have a number in mind, which I believe helped. I just wanted to feel good again, and the last time I remembered feeling really good body-wise was senior year of high school. I found out from my doctor what I weighed then, and used that as kind of a base goal once I had been having success for a few months. I then looked into what normal weight range was for my height, and made that my next goal. -50 lbs was only 2 lbs below that, so I got excited at the thought of making it to that before I turned 30. I did it! The lowest I've seen is 4 lbs below that, and now I fluctuate between there and my -50 weight.

I am so excited to have gone from an obese BMI to a normal one. I feel better and more energetic than I've felt in years. Some people ask me: "When are you going to stop?" I hope to never stop- I have been practicing healthy habits for over 8 months now, and I won't be going back to my old ways. I have enough positive influences in my life that I know that even if I started to slip, someone would help me get back up. My weight is plateauing, and I am okay with that. If I lose any more, it's gravy. Right now I'm at a healthy weight and that is what matters.

It's not a diet. It's a lifestyle change. I have changed my life so that I can be the best mom, wife, sister, granddaughter- the best Me that I can be. I owe it to myself.

Weight Loss- the Active Part

I really, really don't like the word Exercise.

Why?

Because in my head, I start to imagine a gym. Sweaty people. Loud breathing. (Keep in mind this is coming from someone who has only stepped into a gym a handful of times in college).

I totally get that for a lot of people, the gym is a great place for them. They love getting sweaty, they love the adrenaline rush.

I do not. And I'm not embarrassed by it anymore. Maybe at some point I will crave that, but right now I do not.

With both of my kids, when they were newborns, I found myself sitting. A lot. To nurse them, to feed them, to play with them, basically to do anything with them that didn't require them in a carrier. Sitting = sedentary = not burning calories. Top that off with the bad eating habits I had developed, and voila- you have someone with an obese BMI.

Me. My weight was high enough that my body mass index was in the bright red section- the obese section. I used to laugh it off- come on, look at me, I might be overweight, but I'm not obese! I kind of got sick of having to laugh it off. I wasn't comfortable in jeans, didn't like how I looked in any of my clothes, and it occurred to me: maybe it's one thing to feel this way in my 40's, my 50's...but I'm in my 20's and I feel like this? When is it going to get better? Is it? Or am I destined to be obese my whole life?

I made changes in my eating habits, and I started walking Scout up in the quarry behind our house. I'm talking a steep, uphill climb onto several levels of a stone quarry. It kicked my butt then, and it still does! But here's the beauty of it... it does not feel like exercise to me at all. I enjoy every minute of it. I think, that's the secret- to find a way to be active that you enjoy and is easily accessible to you. I've always loved walking outdoors, but I never realized that I could use it to change my life.

My other "active" tip? I make it a point to not sit on the couch until the end of the day, after the kids are in bed. Now that both of my kids walk and run- they're not sitting, so why should I? I'm doing housework, chasing them around, cooking, changing diapers, playing on the playground, etc. Pretty much anything except sitting. I even prop my laptop on the washer (which is in the kitchen) and write emails standing up. It might sound really silly. It does to me, almost. But I can tell you, with certainty, it's made all the difference.

Just. Be. Active. In any way that you can. It doesn't have to be in-the-gym-sweatiness, but it can. It's different for every person. I also had to Really Want It. I talk about that in my next post.

Weight Loss- the Eating and Drinking Part

In August 2012, I decided I was sick of being fat.

And then I decided to do something about it.

I knew a lot of people who had huge success with Weight Watchers. Knowing that the basic premise was portion control, I tried to do it on my own, because, let's face it: I'm too cheap to pay for a program, and the thought of counting points made me cringe. I might be married to a math teacher, but I don't love math anymore than I did in high school.

I started looking at the Nutritional Info on what I was eating- for the first time ever. Talk about an eye opener. Up until then I had no idea the amount of calories I was consuming. Let me tell you, it was not pretty.

Turns out, I was eating 2-3 times more than my body actually needed.

I decided to shoot for three 500 calorie meals, with two 100 calorie snacks in between, and two squares of dark chocolate after dinner. Two squares of dark chocolate? That doesn't seem like part of a diet. It was for me. I am a sweets girl, through and through, and I knew I was never going to make it if I cut out sweets entirely.

I also knew I wasn't going to make it if I went on all "diet food" and didn't enjoy what I was eating. I love to eat! I needed a diet that allowed me to still eat what I liked (for the most part), but within reason.

Those are the key words: Within reason. When I was growing up, treats were just that- treats- and we didn't have them daily. But when college came? Whew, boy, no one was around to tell me what not to eat! A pint of Ben & Jerry's? No problem! I relished the freedom to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.

Thus, the problem. I estimate that I gained about 35 lbs from the time I entered college to the time I graduated. In retrospect, I treated my body horribly. I ate unhealthy food all the time and drank like a fish on the weekend. It's a wonder I didn't gain more.

Back to 2012. I made changes to my daily eating routine. Instead of a toasted bagel for breakfast, I have a bagel thin (delicious!). Instead of half and half, I use skim milk in my coffee (took a little getting used to, but now I wouldn't drink it any other way). Instead of "saving up" for 3 meals a day and binging at each one, I have a snack twice a day to tide me over and keep my blood sugar from dropping (a piece of fruit, serving size of Sun Chips, Wheat Thins & Laughing Cow cheese wedge, etc). Instead of a glass of grapefruit juice with lunch, I drink water all day long, from breakfast onward. Instead of two handfuls of chips with my sandwich for lunch, I eat two handfuls of veggies. Instead of seconds and thirds of whatever dinner we were eating, I take one very small helping, then another very small helping because I like being able to go up for "seconds", and know that it's actually one serving total. Instead of cookies, ice cream, cake, cupcake, insert favorite baked good here, for dessert, I have two squares of dark chocolate (now I prefer dark chocolate over milk chocolate any day).

Water- the more I drink it, the better I feel. It's all I drink all day besides a cup of coffee in the morning and a small glass of skim milk with dinner.

These are the major changes I made to my eating habits. As you can imagine, that's not all it took. In my next post, I talk about the Exercise part. Or the Active part, as I prefer to call it.

Generations

There are few things that make me happier than seeing my kids interact with my Grandfather, their Great Grandpa, who we call Pop Pop.

He's the ultimate playmate. He always takes time to have a picnic with Rosie at her little table or to do the same silly thing over and over to Buddy that keeps him in stitches.

My kids know their Great Grandfather. How neat is that?

Not only do they know him, and see him at least once a week, they also know Great Grandma Margie and Steve's grandparents, too.

The best thing about Great Grandparents? They are never rushed, never too busy to listen to what Rosie has to tell them or what Buddy has to show them. They take life at a slower pace, a pace that my kids enjoy because it makes them feel important.

When I see Rosie and Buddy walking up the hill with Pop Pop, Margie and the dogs, I take a mental snapshot. I want to remember these moments. More importantly, I want my kids to remember them. There isn't anything more tender than watching these generations learn from each other, bridging the gap of 70+ years.

Cheers

We had a few close friends over for my birthday this past Saturday.

We were all sitting around the table, talking, laughing. Sometimes there were a few random dance moves thrown in that fit perfectly.

I sat back and watched these friends of mine and this feeling of fondness swept over me (ok, I had a few drinks by then but I am convinced I would have felt like this either way).

Look at these people. They have fallen into my life over the years and each one of them is so very different from the next.

I raised my glass, and announced I wanted to toast to them- some of my best and closest friends in the world. Each of them, with their unique personalities, have inspired me in ways they can't even imagine.

I read recently that I should be thankful for all the different personalities that God has placed in my life.

I am!

Some of my friends inspire me to be more daring, take chances and step out of my comfort zone. Some of my friends are cheerleaders. We support each other (weight loss, having 2 kids under 2, etc) and are always there for each other.
Some of my friends remind me to always make time to have fun and be silly because life is just too damn short.

All of my friends make me who I am today.

My Place

Nothing but the sound of the wind through the trees and the jingling of the dogs' tags as they run ahead of me.

This is My Place.

Last August, I realized that after years of complaining about living on Route 9 and not being able to step out of my house and talk a (safe) walk, I had the best walking place available- the stone quarry behind my house.

There are many levels to the quarry and it's a steep climb. I had to work myself up to the peak- every day I went a little further. Once I got there, I never looked back.

Well, I did- at the view. Breathtaking. It took me a few times of scanning the horizon to discern that, yes, indeed, that was Mt. Greylock I could see. The same mountain I lived next to for four years in college!

I have just recently been able to go on my quarry walks with the dogs again. The long, cold winter is finally coming to a close, and with the snow melting, I have access once again.

Up in that quarry? I can't get enough of the quiet. The sounds of nature changing from season to season. Peace. No matter what mood I am when I leave the house, this place has the ability to mellow me out and recharge me.

I can't help but feel a connection to my ancestors when I'm up there. I am the 6th generation of my family to live on this land. A quote in the March / April 2013 edition of Yankee magazine really resonated with me this week:

"In New England- a region so compact, so woven with landscape and history and ancestry and tradition- the sense of place burrows more deeply than anywhere else."

Yes, it does. I am so very thankful for My Place.

30

Yesterday was my 30th birthday.

Wow. First time I've actually written out "30", referring to myself. I had been reflecting upon this milestone over the past month or so. I reflected in the way I always hope to about such things, to really have a chance to build them up, and be aware.

As I do any weekday, I enjoyed my bagel and coffee in front of the news and lap top before the kids woke up. I heard Buddy practicing some new sounds over the monitor, and went upstairs to get them.

When I opened the door to Rosie's room, she picked her head up off the pillow and gave me a sheepish smile. I returned the smile and said "Guess what? It's my birthday!". Her smile got wider. I sat down on her bed and she nestled into my lap. She wrapped her little arms around my neck, her head against my chest, and whispered "Happy Birthday, Mama".

Of course, that made me tear up. I hugged her tight, inhaled her sweet Rosie smell, and was so very thankful for her. I was reminded, then, that she and Buddy are the best presents I could have ever hoped for. It framed my mindset for the rest of the day. I took more time to laugh, play and cuddle. Do I usually do these things every day? Yes. But yesterday I did them more. Instead of tackling the laundry, I cuddled with Rosie during Buddy's nap time. Instead of doing dishes, I tickled Buddy so he laughed and laughed and laughed. I even roughhoused with the dogs, which I admit is not something I always take time to do.

I lived, laughed and loved a little bit more yesterday. It made for the best birthday I could remember in recent years.

Passing the Torch

Suffice it to say, I never thought doctor and dentist appointments would be on my list of relaxing activities. But when you're a stay at home Mom? And a family member is watching the kids? Sign me up for a good old check-up anytime! Playing whatever non g-rated music I want to listen to on the ride back and forth is half the fun.

I went to one of these relaxing activities today- my annual check-up. I get it done at the same place that I went to for both my pregnancies, for all prenatal and postpartum exams. I had a lot of fun chatting with the receptionists and nurses, showing them pictures of the kids, catching up. When you have kids within 16.5 months of each other, you get to know your OB/GYN office very well.

On my way out, I followed a young couple who had just walked out of the ultrasound doorway. They were grinning from ear to ear, and the woman reached out to lock her arm in his as they walked towards their Jeep. He said something to her that made her shriek, and as she got in, I saw she had ultrasound pictures in her hand.

I smiled, and looked into the backseat of my Focus as I approached it. Saw the two rear facing car seats.

Steve and I were that couple once. Every ultrasound was exciting, but some were nerve wracking, too. There was always some marker, something the Dr. would want to keep an eye on (both kids turned out perfectly fine).

Ultrasound. Seeing that precious little heart beating on the screen. Never feeling the same way ever, ever again.

Sitting in the driver's seat, I looked into my rear view mirror, and saw them drive away, the woman looking at the pictures with the biggest smile on her face.

At that moment, I wished I could just relay to her, telepathically, all I had learned about pregnancy, birthing and babies. But I also knew she had to learn it all on her own, and hers would be so different from mine.

I did, however, mentally pass the torch to her. Your turn, mama. The most amazing part of your life has just begun.