My trip to New York was not what I had expected. I enjoyed moments, but the rest of the time was emotionally too much. I react to noise. Which is surprising because I am loud. I am also partially deaf in my left ear. All women on my mom's bloodline were/are. Great-Grandma Annie, Grandma Barbara, Mom, and now me. We believe with deafness comes longevity. Maybe we cannot hear all the stupidity and therefore cannot get too annoyed? Annie lived until 96, Grandma B is pushing 95?97?100? So where am I going with this?
Today I met with A's therapist because at our last meeting I was in a bad place. My role in New York was to "manage someone else's anxiety." Clearly, that was a failure waiting to happen. I can barely manage my own. I manage A's. That;s is all I can handle now. I am learning how to stop managing hers so she can manage it for herself. It is a process. We are in this together. But what I am capable of doing for A, or willing to do for A, I am not capable of doing for my mom. That makes me feel less than.
I want A to manage hers successful. Find the anchor within herself. The therapist says she is a child filled with anxiety. She was born this way. I know it is my fault, my genes that did this to her. But I want to her face this all head on, as a child so she can be the most capable adult.
Walking away is a good response. When it infuriates those that challenged you or were insulting, mean-spirited or simply trying to steal your power, that means you did the right thing. Walk away. I'm doing it. So will A.
I didn't run away from New York. I ran towards a new life in Montreal. A place where I could start fresh with my babies and not live in struggle and sadness. Where I felt wrong because I couldn't live the lifestyle that someone else chose for me. In Montreal, I'm killing the mommy-thing. Apparently, my children not only love me, but they really like me. And I like me too. Calmer.
Friday, March 3, 2017
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Mother knows best
Mom, I have a story for you. You wouldn't believe what Autumn did to her Barbie Pony Princesses. As I tell the story, I hear her audible sighs - the acknowledgment that she remembers when I did something similar as a child. She laughs at the hi-jinx and commiserates. Her insightful questions help me open up and look at the situation critically.
I explain how I didn't lose my shit when I found the Princess Pony massacre. I held it all together when Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash, and Apple Jack were strewn across the floor - heads on one side - bodies on the other - braids everywhere.
She just broke $100 worth of toys. Her favorite toys right now. I take a deep breath. She looks to me with pleading eyes to fix it all and make it better. I recognize that there is no immediate peril. But I feel terrible. For her, for me, for not knowing what upset her to trigger this?!? Wondering what is to come down the road for me next week, next month, and next year.
I told Autumn, "next time call me. Say Mama I need you. I don't know how to fix this? I might not be making the best choice."
My mom said I reacted better than she had when I did something similar. She remembers yelling at me. I do too. I don't want Autumn to remember me reacting that way. So I didn't. I remained calm. I spoke in dulcet tones.
Until next time.
I explain how I didn't lose my shit when I found the Princess Pony massacre. I held it all together when Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash, and Apple Jack were strewn across the floor - heads on one side - bodies on the other - braids everywhere.
She just broke $100 worth of toys. Her favorite toys right now. I take a deep breath. She looks to me with pleading eyes to fix it all and make it better. I recognize that there is no immediate peril. But I feel terrible. For her, for me, for not knowing what upset her to trigger this?!? Wondering what is to come down the road for me next week, next month, and next year.
I told Autumn, "next time call me. Say Mama I need you. I don't know how to fix this? I might not be making the best choice."
My mom said I reacted better than she had when I did something similar. She remembers yelling at me. I do too. I don't want Autumn to remember me reacting that way. So I didn't. I remained calm. I spoke in dulcet tones.
Until next time.
Saturday, July 16, 2016
Off the meds
My son calls medication a tool. He can focus and listen to the teacher when he needs to learn something new that he is not interested in (mostly French.) The grades went up 20-30 points where necessary. He feels better about his accomplishments and that positive energy feeds itself into other aspects of his life. For her, it is about anxiety. She is calmer and able to navigate the world more peacefully.
This summer the children are at the pool from 8:15 till 2pm. They are both on the swim team, take lessons, synchro teams, Waterpolo (son), and diving lessons (daughter.) I take them back to the pool each night from 5-6:30pm to drain them of the last bit of energy I can.
Being off the meds has lasted a lot longer this summer. My son has grown two inches in four months. He lost two teeth in a week. He has two more that are loose. The tooth fairy is on-call at my house this summer. They eat every two hours. They are both so strong.
He drags me across the pool like I weight 50 pounds. We played monkey-in-the-middle for 2 hours in the pool yesterday from 3-5pm.
Last week he begged for a root beer, onion rings, and two cheeseburgers for lunch. We laughed the whole time and then played in the pool together for another two hours. Tonight when I put him to bed, he said, "I just wanted to spend time with you. I love you so much."
Have I mentioned the giggling?
The summer is exhaustingly amazing.
This summer the children are at the pool from 8:15 till 2pm. They are both on the swim team, take lessons, synchro teams, Waterpolo (son), and diving lessons (daughter.) I take them back to the pool each night from 5-6:30pm to drain them of the last bit of energy I can.
Being off the meds has lasted a lot longer this summer. My son has grown two inches in four months. He lost two teeth in a week. He has two more that are loose. The tooth fairy is on-call at my house this summer. They eat every two hours. They are both so strong.
He drags me across the pool like I weight 50 pounds. We played monkey-in-the-middle for 2 hours in the pool yesterday from 3-5pm.
Last week he begged for a root beer, onion rings, and two cheeseburgers for lunch. We laughed the whole time and then played in the pool together for another two hours. Tonight when I put him to bed, he said, "I just wanted to spend time with you. I love you so much."
Have I mentioned the giggling?
The summer is exhaustingly amazing.
Friday, July 15, 2016
I can fill the air
I called today to tell you I am a friend and I care about you. You do not have to tell me about your life because I know it is replete with hardship right now. I will never push you to talk about the sad. I can be an ear or a voice that can just FILL the air -- to make it less lonely. To make life more bearable. All I need you to do is call and say talk. Or answer when I call so I can make you smile -- when the smile and lighthearted laughter seems to far to reach. Life is not always successful. People die, jobs are lost, children get sick, promises are not kept, debt piles up, houses are foreclosed upon, bankruptcy, and marriages collapse. It is not pretty or easy. Some of these I know about, others I don't, but I'm smart enough to realize that these troubles don't define me.
The true test of a person is what they do with what's been done to them. How we choose to rebound and show ourselves what we are made of. How we find the strength to push forward every day for a better life. You have to rally after the FAILURE because you were just on the wrong path.
It is what you become after you fall that makes you the better version of yourself. Choose to re-build.
Thursday, July 14, 2016
Where is your Mama?
I have two children and they are all I need. I love the family I created. To that end, I am not interested in parenting your child unless someone is in imminent danger.
When I hear children around me using their mouths and words in a way that I wouldn't approve ... I steer clear unless my child is involved. I am more LIBERAL than most and probably tolerate more sass than the typical Montrealer-mom. But I stand by my assertion my children need to defend themselves and be strong. To blossom into problem-solvers and develop the skills necessary to survive in the world.
But when they can't, I show them how to. That is my job as a parent.
When children need to be reigned in, a quiet and strong, "Where is your Mama?" stops the nasty words and bullying immediately. The child knows how their parent would react if they heard what the child said.
These 4 words are MAGICAL. Maybe once the kids are 12 they won't work. But, for now, they do!
When I hear children around me using their mouths and words in a way that I wouldn't approve ... I steer clear unless my child is involved. I am more LIBERAL than most and probably tolerate more sass than the typical Montrealer-mom. But I stand by my assertion my children need to defend themselves and be strong. To blossom into problem-solvers and develop the skills necessary to survive in the world.
But when they can't, I show them how to. That is my job as a parent.
When children need to be reigned in, a quiet and strong, "Where is your Mama?" stops the nasty words and bullying immediately. The child knows how their parent would react if they heard what the child said.
These 4 words are MAGICAL. Maybe once the kids are 12 they won't work. But, for now, they do!
Monday, June 13, 2016
Why I love being tall
Dear Autumn,
At five, I witnessed how my friends never called me cute because I was already four feet tall. Teachers and children don't define cute as the tallest girl in the classroom. In all childhood games with other little girls, I was never “the baby.” Babies got piggy-back rides and were carried. No one was interested in carrying me. In EVERY class pictures, I stood in the back row next to the teacher. You could never see my pretty skirt and shiny Mary-Jane shoes. By eleven, I was five foot six inches tall. I never wore a training bra and wore a starter-B cup bra. By thirteen, I was five foot ten inches tall.
Assumptions abound about tall people: Tall people don't know everything but almost everyone else thinks they do from the ages of 4-15. This assumption fades once everyone is in the throes of puberty and self-importance overrides all other beliefs. Hold on, my sweet-sweet girl, you are only eight, so there is plenty of time for people to assume all kinds of things about you. Don’t worry. I don’t care what other people think, so I am ready to defend you and crush their ignorance.
Sports: Everyone will think you should be brilliant at basketball. When I wasn’t the failure was monumental. I played for my freshman high school team. I scored once the entire season. The shortest girl on the team, Julie, scored all the time. She then went onto Varsity and I went to the stage. Fast. Everyone will assume you are fast because your legs are already 2 feet long. Luckily you are crazy fast, so enjoy that. Thank your dad. He is the coordinated one.
At 16, I stopped growing when I hit six feet tall. My figure measured at 38-28-36 and stupid people told me I was fat. People can be stupid and mean. Identify them early and release their toxicity in your life. I would pose nude now if I looked like that still.
Your best friend will most likely be really short. Mine was. Most of my friends are significantly shorter than me. It will be harder to find other Amazons like yourself. Cherish the friends that can feel secure around you. Those are the ones to keep for life.
I always get lost in crowds but I am easily found. All you have to do is look up and you’ll find me. You are a massacre when it comes to directional sense. I’ll buy you a smartphone with a GPS. But when you are in crowds, tell your friends to look up. They’ll see you before you locate them.
Never shrink or hunch yourself over. Never make yourself smaller in any way for anyone else in the world. No one should define you, limit you, or make you feel or act smaller than you are.
No one ever says I wish I was short, once they grow up. I make all my short friends tell you this for a reason. Listen to them. They love you like I do. Everyone is beautiful in their own package, Your package is TALL, hilarious, elegant, goofy and cute! Your face is shaped like a heart and your heart is kind and filled with love.
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
Questions and Feelings - a nightly ritual
In therapy yesterday, my daughter told her therapist how each night we have "Questions and Feelings" time together. She can ask me anything and I will answer honestly. The questions can range from:
Will I ever like fish?
When will my breasts start to grow?
Will they be big like yours?
Why is melted cheese gross but I like grilled cheese?
Will I be in a bad mood when I have my period? (Implying that I am when I have mine.)
When I lie on my stomach, I can see my butt, can you?
There are three questions each night.
The "Feelings" part is a little trickier for me. Feelings to her equate to her take (see: critique) on what I did that day that to her was not appropriate. Or measured. She couches the language in a way that shows me how I could have done better. Her therapist found her perception compelling. Oh goodie. My daughters' perception of her feelings is, in fact, a comment on my behaviors. Each night during, "Questions and Feelings," I brace for my nightly critique.
Last night, she begins, "Why do you curse?"
"Because it releases stress, for me, like a balloon popping, it's an instant feeling of release," I answer.
"Do you think there is a better way to release your stress?"
"I'm sure there is," I say.
"I get mad, and I don't curse."
"What do you do?" I ask.
"I scream," she says.
"Is that better or the same?"
"I'm not sure. Cursing is gross," she admits.
"Ok. I will not curse and you will not scream. Is that a fair deal?"
"Yes. Do you think we can do it?"
"If we do it together, I think we have a better shot," I say. "Now tell me a feeling you have about something I did right today."
"You love me. You do this right every day," and I crumble in a puddle of admiration for my eight-year-old daughter. I would rip the skin from my body if that meant she would always feel loved and happy forever.
Friday, August 28, 2015
The Square Root of ADHD is ME
My little baby-girl daughter who is 7 years old got her diagnosis: Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) with anxiety. My 9 year old son puts his arms around my daughter and says, "I got you. We got this. I will take care of you forever. I promise."
His compassion fills the room.
My husband I have known for months -- maybe even a year -- that my daughter has ADD. My son's therapist alerted us last summer and we informed the school in Sept 2014. They didn't listen. Girls manifest differently than boys. We explained this to anyone that would listen and they didn't. Now we know. This is not something I wanted or needed but it just IS. I would rather know and help her then not know and continue to let her feel frustrated. I never imagined that she was Hyperactive as well but my husband and I slowly began to suspect something new and exciting was developing this summer. After both children exercise at the pool for over 4 hours a day they still NEEDED the extra 2 hours of swim time with me, from 4-6pm, to settle them properly for a smooth transition into nighttime.
My daughter looks confused. Her brow is furrowed.
"You are just fine, baby-girl. We are all here to help you and make you feel good" I say and reach for her hand. She stands up and looks at me. My words are not enough. I can tell by the way she is looking at me. She blames me. It's in her eyes. If there is a reason for something - anything - I own that answer and I have to make it understandable to her. That is what she expects. I can see clearly from her facial expression that I have not comforted her to her satisfaction.
"What did I do wrong?" she says and I see her eyes begin to fill with tears.
"Nothing" I say to her just above a whisper. She looks at me. She takes my hand.
"You. Are. Not. Wrong." I say slowly and deliberately.
"You did nothing wrong. Neither did I. We are not wrong. We think faster and about more things than other people. We are better -- enhanced. I was diagnosed at seven also" says my son.
He has a way of making her feel better when I cannot.
"You did nothing wrong" I say again. I look at the doctor and he sits up straighter.
"I am diagnosing you with ADHD. That means we all believe that you think in a way that we can label as ADHD" says the doctor to my daughter.
"What is a diagnosis" asks my daughter. Her voice dripping with fear. Her eyes are big. Her anxiety palpable.
"It is a label. The diagnosis for the wall is that the color is yellow" explains the doctor.
"I understand that" she says in a small voice. I see her shrinking. We have crushed her. She won't feel good about this. I can feel it. We needed to know. She didn't deserve to feel so frustrated. I don't want her to waste years on insecurity like I did. I want her to know that she is amazing in so many ways and that the world doesn't need to validate that. She can know that for herself. She has to learn to own her awesomeness so she makes the right decisions.
"Mommy doesn't like labels. She says I am not a "tomboy" or "girlie girl" I am both. I am more. I am a funny artist that can dance and sing. I am an excellent swimmer who can speak French. I am smart and kind and super fun. I am really good at the hula-hoop. What is the label for that?" challenges my daughter.
"You. That's the label" says my son thoughtfully. I kiss him on the cheek and my daughter hugs him. My husband smiles.
"Asking a child to exist in a setting (social, classroom, hockey, dance class) and expect them to compete at the same level, as a non ADHD child, is like asking the child with ADHD to play dodge-ball blindfolded. The blindfolded child will never know where the ball is coming from but they are expected to react as if they are not blindfolded" says the doctor.
I never thought of it that way.
I sit there and look at my beauties. Smart, sweet, strong, funny, and healthy. They are rarely quiet and still. Life around them is rarely calm.
The doctor continues to ask questions and everyone answers together. I want my daughter to be heard. There is no Oxygen in the room for her or me. My son directs the conversation. He answers questions like he is "the father" and not "the brother." I look to him and say "stop" silently. I say "stop" at least 10 times a day to him, always silently, as I do not to attract any unneeded attention to him or me. After the tenth "silent stop," I begin to question the dose of his medication. Is it high enough? Maybe he metabolizing his medication too quickly? Currently, his ADHD is FULL BLOWN and we are also experiencing a healthy dose of REBOUND.
The room feels smaller. My daughter stands and says "I need to move." We walk into the hallway and follow the doctor inot another room.
A few days later I was sitting in the Principal's office. School starts next week. My daughter is going into second grade. After discussing the diagnosis the Principal says, "at least she wants to please. That is great."
"I don't think that is necessary great. It makes everyone's lives easier but that is not her role in life" says her therapist. I love her BTW. She is a crusader for my daughter. I might have to leave my husband for her if she asks.
His compassion fills the room.
My husband I have known for months -- maybe even a year -- that my daughter has ADD. My son's therapist alerted us last summer and we informed the school in Sept 2014. They didn't listen. Girls manifest differently than boys. We explained this to anyone that would listen and they didn't. Now we know. This is not something I wanted or needed but it just IS. I would rather know and help her then not know and continue to let her feel frustrated. I never imagined that she was Hyperactive as well but my husband and I slowly began to suspect something new and exciting was developing this summer. After both children exercise at the pool for over 4 hours a day they still NEEDED the extra 2 hours of swim time with me, from 4-6pm, to settle them properly for a smooth transition into nighttime.
My daughter looks confused. Her brow is furrowed.
"You are just fine, baby-girl. We are all here to help you and make you feel good" I say and reach for her hand. She stands up and looks at me. My words are not enough. I can tell by the way she is looking at me. She blames me. It's in her eyes. If there is a reason for something - anything - I own that answer and I have to make it understandable to her. That is what she expects. I can see clearly from her facial expression that I have not comforted her to her satisfaction.
"What did I do wrong?" she says and I see her eyes begin to fill with tears.
"Nothing" I say to her just above a whisper. She looks at me. She takes my hand.
"You. Are. Not. Wrong." I say slowly and deliberately.
"You did nothing wrong. Neither did I. We are not wrong. We think faster and about more things than other people. We are better -- enhanced. I was diagnosed at seven also" says my son.
He has a way of making her feel better when I cannot.
"You did nothing wrong" I say again. I look at the doctor and he sits up straighter.
"I am diagnosing you with ADHD. That means we all believe that you think in a way that we can label as ADHD" says the doctor to my daughter.
"What is a diagnosis" asks my daughter. Her voice dripping with fear. Her eyes are big. Her anxiety palpable.
"It is a label. The diagnosis for the wall is that the color is yellow" explains the doctor.
"I understand that" she says in a small voice. I see her shrinking. We have crushed her. She won't feel good about this. I can feel it. We needed to know. She didn't deserve to feel so frustrated. I don't want her to waste years on insecurity like I did. I want her to know that she is amazing in so many ways and that the world doesn't need to validate that. She can know that for herself. She has to learn to own her awesomeness so she makes the right decisions.
"Mommy doesn't like labels. She says I am not a "tomboy" or "girlie girl" I am both. I am more. I am a funny artist that can dance and sing. I am an excellent swimmer who can speak French. I am smart and kind and super fun. I am really good at the hula-hoop. What is the label for that?" challenges my daughter.
"You. That's the label" says my son thoughtfully. I kiss him on the cheek and my daughter hugs him. My husband smiles.
"Asking a child to exist in a setting (social, classroom, hockey, dance class) and expect them to compete at the same level, as a non ADHD child, is like asking the child with ADHD to play dodge-ball blindfolded. The blindfolded child will never know where the ball is coming from but they are expected to react as if they are not blindfolded" says the doctor.
I never thought of it that way.
I sit there and look at my beauties. Smart, sweet, strong, funny, and healthy. They are rarely quiet and still. Life around them is rarely calm.
The doctor continues to ask questions and everyone answers together. I want my daughter to be heard. There is no Oxygen in the room for her or me. My son directs the conversation. He answers questions like he is "the father" and not "the brother." I look to him and say "stop" silently. I say "stop" at least 10 times a day to him, always silently, as I do not to attract any unneeded attention to him or me. After the tenth "silent stop," I begin to question the dose of his medication. Is it high enough? Maybe he metabolizing his medication too quickly? Currently, his ADHD is FULL BLOWN and we are also experiencing a healthy dose of REBOUND.
The room feels smaller. My daughter stands and says "I need to move." We walk into the hallway and follow the doctor inot another room.
A few days later I was sitting in the Principal's office. School starts next week. My daughter is going into second grade. After discussing the diagnosis the Principal says, "at least she wants to please. That is great."
"I don't think that is necessary great. It makes everyone's lives easier but that is not her role in life" says her therapist. I love her BTW. She is a crusader for my daughter. I might have to leave my husband for her if she asks.
"What I mean to say is, she wants to be part of the community and that will help
her learn how to be a great part of the greater community. She is also a natural leader and likes to be in social control but she has to also learn the rules and what is expected of her" says the
Principal.
"That is true." I say, "she has to learn when to please and when not to. She
doesn't have to make everyone happy. I am more concerned that people make HER
happy because she is already too kind to those who don't deserve or haven't
earned it" I say. I look to her therapist and she nods in agreement.
Welcome to a new GIRL power!
Welcome to a new GIRL power!
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Porn at the Pool
This week I began my work-out in my new size 16 bathing suit. After a few moments of jogging I started having issues. I side-stepped my way to the deep end so I could address my bathing suits' multiple malfunctions.
How is that possible? It's called my belly. My suit is rolling up over my stomach until it stops at my breasts. Every jump under the water is way more fleshy than I want observed. My bottoms are rolling down from my waist, over my hips, and thankfully stop right above my cookie. I continue to jump but manage to maintain no cookie exposure. The suit looks great and feels great but it is a 2-piece nightmare. I guess these are 2-piece problems. I am a 1-piece lady overexposed in a 2-piece world. The other ladies with 2 pieces have flat bellies. That might be a crucial difference.
"It's like a porn show under here!" I say and roll the suit down and up while simultaneously frog jumping in the water. I want to keep my heart rate up but I am preoccupied with not getting arrested for indecent exposure. I begin the wide side to side steps and move my arms in small inner circles. I love this exercise and my new triceps are the benefit of this particular exercise. I look down and swear I am about to have a nip-slip at any moment. I move deeper and laugh at myself. Another woman turns and I see she is adjusting in the water. I think her whole left breast popped out.
Good times! Good times!
Here is a picture a friend took of me last night at my children's swim meet. The squash is impressive but all I see are my awesome arms, thigh, and youthful neck.
"My bathing suit is simultaneously rolling up and down." I say to my girlfriend.
She laughs, "How is that possible?"
How is that possible? It's called my belly. My suit is rolling up over my stomach until it stops at my breasts. Every jump under the water is way more fleshy than I want observed. My bottoms are rolling down from my waist, over my hips, and thankfully stop right above my cookie. I continue to jump but manage to maintain no cookie exposure. The suit looks great and feels great but it is a 2-piece nightmare. I guess these are 2-piece problems. I am a 1-piece lady overexposed in a 2-piece world. The other ladies with 2 pieces have flat bellies. That might be a crucial difference.
"It's like a porn show under here!" I say and roll the suit down and up while simultaneously frog jumping in the water. I want to keep my heart rate up but I am preoccupied with not getting arrested for indecent exposure. I begin the wide side to side steps and move my arms in small inner circles. I love this exercise and my new triceps are the benefit of this particular exercise. I look down and swear I am about to have a nip-slip at any moment. I move deeper and laugh at myself. Another woman turns and I see she is adjusting in the water. I think her whole left breast popped out.
Good times! Good times!
Here is a picture a friend took of me last night at my children's swim meet. The squash is impressive but all I see are my awesome arms, thigh, and youthful neck.
Friday, July 24, 2015
Show me your fat
I never use the word FAT or SKINNY in my house. Those words are toxic. I believe that a person can be "FIT" or "working their way to becoming more FIT." I want my children to love themselves and their bodies. I want them to approach food in the right way -- as fuel to energize their bodies to get done what they want to. Food is not a reward. Not every meal has to be their favorite or an event. Food should taste good and be good for you.
My son and daughter are watching me work-out daily. Our summer special "4-5pm" swim used to be me playing with the two of them in the pool - barreling my son as he spins in my arms lengthwise or chasing after them and calling them packages from foreign lands (usually Paris and New York.) Which is great exercise but it is clearly not enough. I would tone in the summer but now I am shrinking -- almost like a slowly deflating balloon from the top down. My arms are more muscular. There is more muscle under my lovely softness. The laps are a game-changer. The laps come first, at least 4 days a week. They take 40-50 minutes to complete.
After the laps are done I play with them even though I am zonked. I love to carry them in the pool (combined weight of them is is 150 lbs) and I pretend that I don't have a bad back. Which I don't in the pool!)
They have both expressed their displeasure with me not giving them every moment of me that they want. That too is part of the process for all of us. Taking time for me has become essential to me and them. They will learn that a person has to love themselves so that can love others. A person has to take the time to exercise so they can feel good the rest of the day.
The other day my daughter asks me, "Where are you fat? Where is your fat?" I took a breath and walked her into my bedroom.
"Why do you want to know?" I ask. I want to see what she is going to say.
"Because I want to understand" she says. I walk across the room and close my bedroom door.
"I saw a mommy at the pool that is bigger than you" she says.
"How did that make you feel?" I ask. Deadpan.
"Happy. I don't want you to die of being fat" she says.
Like a knife through the heart. I am really proud of her honesty and trust in me.
"I won't let that happen" I say and give her a big hug.
She jumps on the bed and sits down.
"Show me your fat" she says to me. Her little girl voice is filled with questions and openness. She is a little girl. Mine.
"Ok" I say and take off all my clothes.
I stand in-front of her and say, "if I can pinch the flesh than that is fat. Unless it is loose skin because there was fat there and now there isn't anymore."
Warning: GRAPHIC content
I start at my feet and move quickly up my thighs. For the first time in a LONG TIME I can't pinch any significant fat or skin on my outer thighs. The saddle-bags are gone and they took all the extra flesh with them. Almost miraculously. Even my inner thighs are in much better shape. But I found some fat and showed her.
I then happened upon my ass.
As a white girl with a FLAT white girl butt there has never been anything exciting about my "junk in the trunk." An ass-man would never look my way. Now a breast-man ... well that is an entirely different story. When I gain weight I get a second ass. And not in a cute way. My second ass sits on top of first my ass. It starts about halfway up my first ass and acts like a fat shelf for my first ass. I went to pinch the second ass and to my surprise the SECOND ASS WASN'T THERE.
I asked my daughter, "Can you pinch fat on my bum-bum for me?"
"Nope Mama. Your bum-bum is FIT!" She says and she is totally engaged. She then lightly spanks my bum and giggles. I turn around to look at my ass and she squeals as I go in circles making everything silly.
"I love when we talk like this" she says. There it is. I WIN! This is why I do this. FOR her. I want her to never stop talking to me about what is important to her. She is tragically forgetful and disorganized. She is wickedly tall and this bothers her sometimes. She wants to be cute. She is 7. She is cute. But she doesn't believe it. By putting myself out there I hope to gain her openness and future trust.
Back to pinching FAT ... I ended my journey at my stomach and started pinching left, right, and center.
"I see the fat on your stomach Mama. I understand now" she says.
I wait ... silently .. to see what she will say next. And here it comes
"It's a like a belt only in the front" she says. I wasn't expecting that. She gets up and hugs me. She kisses my belly and says, "I love the Mama love."
"I love you" I say.
"Will I get fat?" she asks in fear.
"Not if you eat smart and exercise" I say.
"If I eat and never exercise then I will get fat?" she asks.
"Yes." I answer quickly. I want to impose the idea that she has exercise her whole life. People with ADHD have a proclivity to be over weight as adults with weaker endurance levels. If I teach her now the importance of exercise and why it makes you feel better inside she will continue this great habit her whole life. She will never struggle like I do now. My struggle is weight-loss, stress, and their ADHD. When ADHD entered my home, I happened upon a change in me that will save my life. I can only parent through example. If I am not moving as well and showing them that it does make me feel better they won't believe it. They are contrary-by-nature. My daughter and son will think differently about being fit and understand why it is important to have this balance. A balance I never had as a child.
Eventually she will see how she can manage her stress and anxiety with exercise.
"Thank you for not lying to me" she says.
"I will never lie to you. You can always believe me and come to me with every question that you can imagine" I say.
Here she is achieving and believing in herself and her abilities.
My son and daughter are watching me work-out daily. Our summer special "4-5pm" swim used to be me playing with the two of them in the pool - barreling my son as he spins in my arms lengthwise or chasing after them and calling them packages from foreign lands (usually Paris and New York.) Which is great exercise but it is clearly not enough. I would tone in the summer but now I am shrinking -- almost like a slowly deflating balloon from the top down. My arms are more muscular. There is more muscle under my lovely softness. The laps are a game-changer. The laps come first, at least 4 days a week. They take 40-50 minutes to complete.
At first I wrote Unfortunetely. Then I erased that. It is not unfortunate that it takes that long. It just does. I accept that about myself. I am only competing against myself.
After the laps are done I play with them even though I am zonked. I love to carry them in the pool (combined weight of them is is 150 lbs) and I pretend that I don't have a bad back. Which I don't in the pool!)
They have both expressed their displeasure with me not giving them every moment of me that they want. That too is part of the process for all of us. Taking time for me has become essential to me and them. They will learn that a person has to love themselves so that can love others. A person has to take the time to exercise so they can feel good the rest of the day.
The other day my daughter asks me, "Where are you fat? Where is your fat?" I took a breath and walked her into my bedroom.
"Why do you want to know?" I ask. I want to see what she is going to say.
"Because I want to understand" she says. I walk across the room and close my bedroom door.
"I saw a mommy at the pool that is bigger than you" she says.
"How did that make you feel?" I ask. Deadpan.
"Happy. I don't want you to die of being fat" she says.
Like a knife through the heart. I am really proud of her honesty and trust in me.
"I won't let that happen" I say and give her a big hug.
She jumps on the bed and sits down.
"Show me your fat" she says to me. Her little girl voice is filled with questions and openness. She is a little girl. Mine.
"Ok" I say and take off all my clothes.
I stand in-front of her and say, "if I can pinch the flesh than that is fat. Unless it is loose skin because there was fat there and now there isn't anymore."
Warning: GRAPHIC content
I start at my feet and move quickly up my thighs. For the first time in a LONG TIME I can't pinch any significant fat or skin on my outer thighs. The saddle-bags are gone and they took all the extra flesh with them. Almost miraculously. Even my inner thighs are in much better shape. But I found some fat and showed her.
I then happened upon my ass.
As a white girl with a FLAT white girl butt there has never been anything exciting about my "junk in the trunk." An ass-man would never look my way. Now a breast-man ... well that is an entirely different story. When I gain weight I get a second ass. And not in a cute way. My second ass sits on top of first my ass. It starts about halfway up my first ass and acts like a fat shelf for my first ass. I went to pinch the second ass and to my surprise the SECOND ASS WASN'T THERE.
I asked my daughter, "Can you pinch fat on my bum-bum for me?"
"Nope Mama. Your bum-bum is FIT!" She says and she is totally engaged. She then lightly spanks my bum and giggles. I turn around to look at my ass and she squeals as I go in circles making everything silly.
"I love when we talk like this" she says. There it is. I WIN! This is why I do this. FOR her. I want her to never stop talking to me about what is important to her. She is tragically forgetful and disorganized. She is wickedly tall and this bothers her sometimes. She wants to be cute. She is 7. She is cute. But she doesn't believe it. By putting myself out there I hope to gain her openness and future trust.
Back to pinching FAT ... I ended my journey at my stomach and started pinching left, right, and center.
"I see the fat on your stomach Mama. I understand now" she says.
I wait ... silently .. to see what she will say next. And here it comes
"It's a like a belt only in the front" she says. I wasn't expecting that. She gets up and hugs me. She kisses my belly and says, "I love the Mama love."
"I love you" I say.
"Will I get fat?" she asks in fear.
"Not if you eat smart and exercise" I say.
"If I eat and never exercise then I will get fat?" she asks.
"Yes." I answer quickly. I want to impose the idea that she has exercise her whole life. People with ADHD have a proclivity to be over weight as adults with weaker endurance levels. If I teach her now the importance of exercise and why it makes you feel better inside she will continue this great habit her whole life. She will never struggle like I do now. My struggle is weight-loss, stress, and their ADHD. When ADHD entered my home, I happened upon a change in me that will save my life. I can only parent through example. If I am not moving as well and showing them that it does make me feel better they won't believe it. They are contrary-by-nature. My daughter and son will think differently about being fit and understand why it is important to have this balance. A balance I never had as a child.
Eventually she will see how she can manage her stress and anxiety with exercise.
"Thank you for not lying to me" she says.
"I will never lie to you. You can always believe me and come to me with every question that you can imagine" I say.
Here she is achieving and believing in herself and her abilities.
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
ADHD is everyday
I went to the pool twice today in-between thunder claps for Aqua-Fit and laps. I needed to work-out and I couldn't. The work-out releases my stress. I used to use food. Bags of chips, cream cheese bagels, french fries, etc. Now I don't. Now I work out. I had a little hissy fit when I couldn't get in the pool. My son suggested that I work out on land. I can't yet. I need to weigh less to protect my knees. I recovered from this manageable tragedy on my return to pool when I knocked out 10 laps.
I do this because it makes me feel better. It manages my stress. I have stress. I am a New York Jew. Stress is my Oxygen. We all have stress. But stress will kill me if I don't get it in control. I do this for me. I do this to lose weight. I have 40 pounds to go and I will sit comfortably at 185 pounds. There I said it. I own it. Do the math if you need to.
The work-out also helps me to work out my mental stress. I am running my life to raise a self-aware and strong son and confident and independent daughter and nurture a marriage to a man I love.
My story is my own. It is:
1. Enhanced
2. Riddled
3. Defined
4. Shaped
by ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). Not my own but my children's.
I have come to learn that having one child with ADHD is EASY to manage. It wasn't at first. It also isn't "always" easy but there is a certain balance that can be achieved when only one child thinks as fast as those with ADHD do. Or feels as passionately about something that has to happen RIGHT now or they may forget.
The PANIC in their forgetfulness is real.
I have heard the pleas. I didn't get it because I don't have ADHD. But my children do. When only one child is persistently argumentative .. or consistently contrary ... that can be managed because the other sibling ISN'T.
The cage-match in my head is constant.
I balance egos and emotional-wellness the way OTHER people blink. I do it all the time. I have to lift one up while making sure that the other one isn't pushed down. I can't be sarcastic. Have you any idea how hard it is to tell a New York Jew that she cannot be sarcastic? Sarcasm is in my BONE MARROW. But it is not healthy to speak in a way that doesn't demonstrate the proper social queues to children who don't necessarily have the ability to access those inherent queues. Because they are NOT intrinsic to an ADHD mind. Let me tell you, I am not a patient person. I have learned how to grow patience like tentacles that I wrap my family in because that is MY JOB. I protect them. I make mistakes daily but most of my mistakes are new ones not old ones.
Swimming laps helps my mental cage-match.
ADHD is everyday.
My son was diagnosed about 2 years ago. We paraded him to the best Specialists in Montreal and took advantage of every program that was offered. Two years later and we are in a very different place. He has achieved and matured. He is more self aware than most grown men. But it never goes away, it can be managed, but not always successfully and never without substantial effort on his part.
My ordinary world (yes, Duran Duran is playing in the background) doesn't just have one child with ADHD. It has two. We are all working our way towards a diagnosis for my delicious little daughter. Her struggle is different than my sons. It is quieter and filled with a different kind of daily frustration.
Asking an ADHD mind to behave, think, and conform to non-ADHD standards is like asking my to fly. It's not happening.
I take this stress that lives inside me and work-out. I swim and silence myself and my mind. I breathe in and push my arms out in front of me. I breath out through my nose and see the bubbles under the water. I look at my fingernails (which I paint in bright pink or red) and push my arms back to my sides. I take another breath. I do this till I am exhausted. It happens around 24-26 laps. I am then relaxed.
The cage-match in my head is silent now. I hug my beautiful babies as they battle to be heard. They can have the Oxygen. I don't need it. I smile because I am too tired to be stressed. I let their boisterous and passionate love roll all over me. I feel full and content. I see another mother and her two silent children sitting next to her quietly playing. For a moment I think that must be nice. Then I look at my children. My daughter is singing me a new song she made up and my son is hugging me. They love me and I cherish them. I can't imagine them being any other way.
I do this because it makes me feel better. It manages my stress. I have stress. I am a New York Jew. Stress is my Oxygen. We all have stress. But stress will kill me if I don't get it in control. I do this for me. I do this to lose weight. I have 40 pounds to go and I will sit comfortably at 185 pounds. There I said it. I own it. Do the math if you need to.
The work-out also helps me to work out my mental stress. I am running my life to raise a self-aware and strong son and confident and independent daughter and nurture a marriage to a man I love.
My story is my own. It is:
1. Enhanced
2. Riddled
3. Defined
4. Shaped
by ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). Not my own but my children's.
I have come to learn that having one child with ADHD is EASY to manage. It wasn't at first. It also isn't "always" easy but there is a certain balance that can be achieved when only one child thinks as fast as those with ADHD do. Or feels as passionately about something that has to happen RIGHT now or they may forget.
The PANIC in their forgetfulness is real.
I have heard the pleas. I didn't get it because I don't have ADHD. But my children do. When only one child is persistently argumentative .. or consistently contrary ... that can be managed because the other sibling ISN'T.
The cage-match in my head is constant.
I balance egos and emotional-wellness the way OTHER people blink. I do it all the time. I have to lift one up while making sure that the other one isn't pushed down. I can't be sarcastic. Have you any idea how hard it is to tell a New York Jew that she cannot be sarcastic? Sarcasm is in my BONE MARROW. But it is not healthy to speak in a way that doesn't demonstrate the proper social queues to children who don't necessarily have the ability to access those inherent queues. Because they are NOT intrinsic to an ADHD mind. Let me tell you, I am not a patient person. I have learned how to grow patience like tentacles that I wrap my family in because that is MY JOB. I protect them. I make mistakes daily but most of my mistakes are new ones not old ones.
Swimming laps helps my mental cage-match.
ADHD is everyday.
My son was diagnosed about 2 years ago. We paraded him to the best Specialists in Montreal and took advantage of every program that was offered. Two years later and we are in a very different place. He has achieved and matured. He is more self aware than most grown men. But it never goes away, it can be managed, but not always successfully and never without substantial effort on his part.
My ordinary world (yes, Duran Duran is playing in the background) doesn't just have one child with ADHD. It has two. We are all working our way towards a diagnosis for my delicious little daughter. Her struggle is different than my sons. It is quieter and filled with a different kind of daily frustration.
Asking an ADHD mind to behave, think, and conform to non-ADHD standards is like asking my to fly. It's not happening.
I take this stress that lives inside me and work-out. I swim and silence myself and my mind. I breathe in and push my arms out in front of me. I breath out through my nose and see the bubbles under the water. I look at my fingernails (which I paint in bright pink or red) and push my arms back to my sides. I take another breath. I do this till I am exhausted. It happens around 24-26 laps. I am then relaxed.
The cage-match in my head is silent now. I hug my beautiful babies as they battle to be heard. They can have the Oxygen. I don't need it. I smile because I am too tired to be stressed. I let their boisterous and passionate love roll all over me. I feel full and content. I see another mother and her two silent children sitting next to her quietly playing. For a moment I think that must be nice. Then I look at my children. My daughter is singing me a new song she made up and my son is hugging me. They love me and I cherish them. I can't imagine them being any other way.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Aqua-Fit Instructor
My lifeguard who leads Aqua-Fit wasn't there today. A male lifeguard subbed in. I wasn't feeling the kind of burn that I wanted to feel from his instruction. He was trying hard but I wanted to make sure those 30 minutes counted. Take a moment ... play that back. I wanted to feel the burn so I knew I was getting the right kind of exercise done. I spoke up in my regular Candace-like fashion and suggested moves that we have all done before. I essentially took over the class and this other lady added some great killer moves to the routine.
I had this total out-body-experience where I saw myself leading the class. I saw myself excelling at something physically-related. I could tell everyone what to do. I am excellent at that. I can keep up in the water.
I rode that high home and ate an awesome salad. I drank 2 glasses of water. I drank a cup of tea. I feel motivated. I know I will crank out another 5 hours of work and end the day swimming some laps. I will then be too tired to be stressed. I won't over-eat at night because I will be too tired to do so. I will fall asleep by 10:30pm easily and again be too tired to have my mind race.
I will eat a yellow tomato from my garden with my dinner tonight. Nope. I just ate it. It was Amazing! The yellow tomatoes are sweeter than the red. Just eating one makes me feel better. Smarter for making a better choice. My son chose that plant for our garden for me this summer. He knows I like tomatoes and the yellow color makes us all think of my mother. She loves the color yellow.
It was a great day. The small things made all the difference.
I had this total out-body-experience where I saw myself leading the class. I saw myself excelling at something physically-related. I could tell everyone what to do. I am excellent at that. I can keep up in the water.
I can totally keep up with everyone now.
I rode that high home and ate an awesome salad. I drank 2 glasses of water. I drank a cup of tea. I feel motivated. I know I will crank out another 5 hours of work and end the day swimming some laps. I will then be too tired to be stressed. I won't over-eat at night because I will be too tired to do so. I will fall asleep by 10:30pm easily and again be too tired to have my mind race.
I will eat a yellow tomato from my garden with my dinner tonight. Nope. I just ate it. It was Amazing! The yellow tomatoes are sweeter than the red. Just eating one makes me feel better. Smarter for making a better choice. My son chose that plant for our garden for me this summer. He knows I like tomatoes and the yellow color makes us all think of my mother. She loves the color yellow.
It was a great day. The small things made all the difference.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
3 Things I have learned in 30 days
1. If I do not swim laps or do Aqua-fit everyday I am stressed-out.
2. I must work-out especially when I am sore. Within 10 minutes of starting the work-out the soreness goes away and I feel even better.
3. People concentrate when they work-out. I have seen this happen and have never experienced the need to do this. See my previous post about this called "Zumba Legs." While exercising, which I do like 2x a year, I like to look at others and smile, make a joke, or pant in mutual effort, but never have I ever wanted to be SILENT and FOCUSED.
What has changed? ME.
I have spent the last month working-out almost everyday save 2 or 3. I have lost 9.5 pounds and have gone from a size 18 to 16. The previous 15 pounds I lost are just the same I gain and lose every year. Thanks to Facebook I figured that out. The summer 9 pounds that I have lost since June 14th are ALL NEW AND MINE.
What am I doing?
Aqua-fit and laps.
Aqua-Fit 3-4x a week for 30 minutes and I swim 24 laps every day. It takes about 30 minutes to finish the laps. The first 10 suck, the second 10 feel smooth, and the last 4 I earn.
One day I did 30 laps. I have yet to get back to that. Someone else at the pool did 30. I was inspired and then felt internally challenged.
One day last week I didn't work-out and I felt edgy. Or as my cousin Raquel observed, "You're f#ckin insane stressed."
I was stressed. I thought I hid it well. Clearly I didn't. We walked for an hour and a half that night. I felt great afterward and couldn't really walk the next day. But I still Aqua-fitted and did 24 laps. I am stronger. I am not tired anymore at 3-4pm. I am playing with my kids in the pool now everyday.
These new feelings and experiences are refreshing for 41 years old. I have spent 40 YEARS not working out. I told my lifeguard at the pool about the stress build-up. The another lifeguard replied "that's what athletes feel like. We need to work out and then we feel good."
"OMYG-D, I am starting to feel like an athlete?!!?"
Back to SILENT and FOCUSED:
I appear to do neither well. Especially the silent part. Yesterday I worked-out hard. That statement in my mouth sounds funny. Not authentic. But it was true. I jumped higher than I ever have before. I pushed my arms in the water and made waves till I felt the burn. I took those 30 minutes and said:
During the work-out I went silent and counted. I breathed and focused on not holding my breath. I stood straight and sucked in my stomach. I learned to hold in my gut, breathe, and count concurrently. I focused on me.
I finally understood what I saw in other people's eyes when they worked-out. I became silent. Mindful.
2. I must work-out especially when I am sore. Within 10 minutes of starting the work-out the soreness goes away and I feel even better.
3. People concentrate when they work-out. I have seen this happen and have never experienced the need to do this. See my previous post about this called "Zumba Legs." While exercising, which I do like 2x a year, I like to look at others and smile, make a joke, or pant in mutual effort, but never have I ever wanted to be SILENT and FOCUSED.
What has changed? ME.
I have spent the last month working-out almost everyday save 2 or 3. I have lost 9.5 pounds and have gone from a size 18 to 16. The previous 15 pounds I lost are just the same I gain and lose every year. Thanks to Facebook I figured that out. The summer 9 pounds that I have lost since June 14th are ALL NEW AND MINE.
What am I doing?
Aqua-fit and laps.
Aqua-Fit 3-4x a week for 30 minutes and I swim 24 laps every day. It takes about 30 minutes to finish the laps. The first 10 suck, the second 10 feel smooth, and the last 4 I earn.
One day I did 30 laps. I have yet to get back to that. Someone else at the pool did 30. I was inspired and then felt internally challenged.
One day last week I didn't work-out and I felt edgy. Or as my cousin Raquel observed, "You're f#ckin insane stressed."
I was stressed. I thought I hid it well. Clearly I didn't. We walked for an hour and a half that night. I felt great afterward and couldn't really walk the next day. But I still Aqua-fitted and did 24 laps. I am stronger. I am not tired anymore at 3-4pm. I am playing with my kids in the pool now everyday.
These new feelings and experiences are refreshing for 41 years old. I have spent 40 YEARS not working out. I told my lifeguard at the pool about the stress build-up. The another lifeguard replied "that's what athletes feel like. We need to work out and then we feel good."
"OMYG-D, I am starting to feel like an athlete?!!?"
Back to SILENT and FOCUSED:
I appear to do neither well. Especially the silent part. Yesterday I worked-out hard. That statement in my mouth sounds funny. Not authentic. But it was true. I jumped higher than I ever have before. I pushed my arms in the water and made waves till I felt the burn. I took those 30 minutes and said:
THESE BELONG TO ME.
These 30 minutes are when I focus on being healthy and moving to live. These 30 minutes are the minutes that I take to make myself strong and make myself healthy.
During the work-out I went silent and counted. I breathed and focused on not holding my breath. I stood straight and sucked in my stomach. I learned to hold in my gut, breathe, and count concurrently. I focused on me.
I finally understood what I saw in other people's eyes when they worked-out. I became silent. Mindful.
Thursday, July 2, 2015
Kissing my Frenchiest French Friend changed my Karma
I posted a meme of a lazy Polar Bear on FB. My friend, who I call my Frenchiest French Friend (which I say with ALL DUE respect) responded and sent me a small video of a Grizzly Bear climbing a ladder and jumping into the pool.
Small digression: My Frenchiest French Friend has a luscious French accent when she speaks English. She speaks beautiful English. I have known her for over 3 years and I still do not pronounce her name correctly. I miss about 5-10% of what she says, not because of her accent, (which btw I am totally unable to decipher accents) but because I am fairly convinced that I am almost completely deaf in my left ear at this point. So basically I am screwing myself daily by living in Quebec where everyone speaks French. My Father always said to challenge myself daily with what is hardest for me. Living in Montreal, Quebec with all the French and all the accents leaves me flummoxed daily and fulfills this challenge.
So where was I? The Grizzly Bear.
I jokingly responded that she was comparing my grace and style with a Grisly Bear. It certainly wasn't a body hair kinda issue. Which I want to say that she NEVER WAS. I was using my awesome self-deprecating humor to keep the joke going. She said it was for the kids to enjoy.
The next day we are talking and I totally misheard something she was trying to say ... and I might have made fun of her ... who knows ... we all make fun of each other ....
Then ...
Last night during CANADA DAY we sat in the rain and 65F degrees at the pool to root and cheer for the kids at their first swim meet. A huge amount of water falls on me and I am soaked. She remained completely dry in the same front row. She laughs at me and said, "Karma!"
I walk over to her and say, "Do you know what Karma sounds like?"
She says no.
"Ha Ha Ha!" I say, "I better change my Karma" so I lean down and give her a kiss on the lips.
"I am sure now you did the trick" she says.
Note: She won the raffle last night after buying $10 worth of tickets that was the length of my arm. I am telling you ALL OUT THERE ... find a lovely french-friend and give her a kiss!
I awoke this morning to having lost 6 pounds in 2.5 weeks while working my A-S-S off for it. I think that kiss helped my fat realize how hard I have been working!
... or it was the Karma ...
Small digression: My Frenchiest French Friend has a luscious French accent when she speaks English. She speaks beautiful English. I have known her for over 3 years and I still do not pronounce her name correctly. I miss about 5-10% of what she says, not because of her accent, (which btw I am totally unable to decipher accents) but because I am fairly convinced that I am almost completely deaf in my left ear at this point. So basically I am screwing myself daily by living in Quebec where everyone speaks French. My Father always said to challenge myself daily with what is hardest for me. Living in Montreal, Quebec with all the French and all the accents leaves me flummoxed daily and fulfills this challenge.
So where was I? The Grizzly Bear.
I jokingly responded that she was comparing my grace and style with a Grisly Bear. It certainly wasn't a body hair kinda issue. Which I want to say that she NEVER WAS. I was using my awesome self-deprecating humor to keep the joke going. She said it was for the kids to enjoy.
The next day we are talking and I totally misheard something she was trying to say ... and I might have made fun of her ... who knows ... we all make fun of each other ....
Then ...
Last night during CANADA DAY we sat in the rain and 65F degrees at the pool to root and cheer for the kids at their first swim meet. A huge amount of water falls on me and I am soaked. She remained completely dry in the same front row. She laughs at me and said, "Karma!"
I walk over to her and say, "Do you know what Karma sounds like?"
She says no.
"Ha Ha Ha!" I say, "I better change my Karma" so I lean down and give her a kiss on the lips.
"I am sure now you did the trick" she says.
Note: She won the raffle last night after buying $10 worth of tickets that was the length of my arm. I am telling you ALL OUT THERE ... find a lovely french-friend and give her a kiss!
I awoke this morning to having lost 6 pounds in 2.5 weeks while working my A-S-S off for it. I think that kiss helped my fat realize how hard I have been working!
... or it was the Karma ...
Friday, June 26, 2015
Sore Mermaid
Summer is my season of renewal. The pool has been open for two weeks and I have been there everyday save 2. I started with 10 laps in the pool and everyday I add 1 lap until I can hit 20 laps. I am now there and have completed 2 days at 20 laps. My goal is 40 laps in the same time it takes me to do the original 10. Water aerobics has just begun and I have gone 2 days in a row. I feel the difference in my stomach under my fat. My fat is still there, especially in my stomach, but there is a strength in my stomach. It is almost as if my fat has lifted up - it is more confident. Not sure if that is a good thing? Forcing myself to work out with a better posture helps. When I am jumping in the pool making sure I land flat footed helps.
I am also drinking Chai tea. I thought it would be too spicy but it isn't and it is quite robust.
I have lost 2 lbs in 2 weeks and I earned it. It should have been 4 lbs for the effort but my fat hasn't caught up yet with my efforts. Husband said there is muscle developing. That is good.
Here the conversation I had with the pretty 18 yo female lifeguard at my pool:
Lifeguard: "You are doing well with the laps. I think you could do more since you are increasing so quickly. You underestimate yourself."
Me: "My legs feel so heavy. I have been committed for 2 weeks and they still feel heavy. I am walking like a old lady."
Lifeguard: "You are building muscle. It is good. How do you feel in the morning?"
Me: "Fine. Will that get better? When will I feel stronger?
Lifeguard: "Yes. It will get better."
Me: "When I was lazy, which started in 1984 ... my legs felt much lighter. Isn't that strange? The issue is ... it is harder to lift my legs over my head. You know what I mean?"
Lifeguard: Laughing outrageously. "Yes. I mean no. I don't know."
Me: "Of course you don't. You are young and healthy. I am just saying I like when it is easier to do that."
Lifeguard: "I'm sure you do. But this workout is better."
Me: "No, not really. The workout with the husband after 18 years is better."
Lifeguard: "True. True. Combine all three workout for the most effect possible."
Me: "Are you trying to kill me?"
Lifeguard: "No. I am trying to make you bitchier. You said the smaller the ass .. the bitchier you could be. You are so nice, none of us can figure out what you would be like as a bitch!"
Go Summer GO!!!
I am also drinking Chai tea. I thought it would be too spicy but it isn't and it is quite robust.
I have lost 2 lbs in 2 weeks and I earned it. It should have been 4 lbs for the effort but my fat hasn't caught up yet with my efforts. Husband said there is muscle developing. That is good.
Here the conversation I had with the pretty 18 yo female lifeguard at my pool:
Lifeguard: "You are doing well with the laps. I think you could do more since you are increasing so quickly. You underestimate yourself."
Me: "My legs feel so heavy. I have been committed for 2 weeks and they still feel heavy. I am walking like a old lady."
Lifeguard: "You are building muscle. It is good. How do you feel in the morning?"
Me: "Fine. Will that get better? When will I feel stronger?
Lifeguard: "Yes. It will get better."
Me: "When I was lazy, which started in 1984 ... my legs felt much lighter. Isn't that strange? The issue is ... it is harder to lift my legs over my head. You know what I mean?"
Lifeguard: Laughing outrageously. "Yes. I mean no. I don't know."
Me: "Of course you don't. You are young and healthy. I am just saying I like when it is easier to do that."
Lifeguard: "I'm sure you do. But this workout is better."
Me: "No, not really. The workout with the husband after 18 years is better."
Lifeguard: "True. True. Combine all three workout for the most effect possible."
Me: "Are you trying to kill me?"
Lifeguard: "No. I am trying to make you bitchier. You said the smaller the ass .. the bitchier you could be. You are so nice, none of us can figure out what you would be like as a bitch!"
Go Summer GO!!!
Monday, June 1, 2015
Everything averages out when gravity is on my side.
I heard an expression: You are a tomorrow person. That means every time you want something new or when you have to make a change you say "tomorrow I will start" or "Monday is the best day to begin a new life change." I don't think that is an accurate description of me.
I think I lack basic will power. I know I do. I lack will power when it comes to food. Maybe I am addicted? I could control myself when I was preggers with the babes, though.
My weight plateauing (the "ing" implies motion or momentum as in a state of change -- not a constant) is not an excuse anymore. I am obsessed over my lack of progress when I have made so many great changes.
How do I change more? To say that I have to change when I am finally at the point in my life where I do love me, is hard.
FACT: I feel great before I eat. But once I do, once I make a bad choice, whatever that choice is:
I don't feel good anymore.
But I do not like falling asleep at 4pm on a Sunday because I drank a Sprite and ate some chips. I don't want my daughter to tell me about a woman, she saw one day, that was bigger than me.
And since she saw someone that was bigger than me -- then my size is justifiable to her now? I am not that big. I am over 200 lbs. I said it. I am also 6 feet tall. If I was in New York I wouldn't even stick out all the much. In Montreal, adults in there 40's are super fit. Most women work out and most men are part of an adult sports league. It is just how it is done here.
I have thighs that lack a gap between them. But I am always in the pool playing with my kids and not sitting on a chair tanning or gabbing. I shame all the other moms that way and it is AWESOME. I am present with them in the pool. Everything averages out when gravity is on my side. I don't feel defined by my size at the pool - in the pool - with my kids..
My mom was overweight my whole life. I went from embarrassment to acceptance really early on. I also promised myself that I wouldn't be fat by the time my kids were young. Or I would at least solve the problem before they noticed. I don't want them to be teased because of me. I don't want to be the source of sadness or stress for them.
Now my son is 9 and my daughter is 7 and I still haven't managed to rid myself of the last 40 lbs. The last 40 lbs that have defined me for over 20 or maybe 30 years, The 40 that would are the difference between diabetes and no diabetes. At some point I will run out of time and it will happen,
All I can is make the right choices all day and all night. Everyday.
It is 2pm. The danger zone. I ate the salad for lunch and now I am ready for a 2nd lunch. The Starburst in the kitchen are calling me. I couldn't care less about the chocolate muffins. Thank goodness for small favors. If the lemon cake was still there - that might have been a problem. I reach or a ... yogurt.
Okay. Well done. Now I will walk the dog for the 3rd time today because she loves it. OOH what if I walked the kids to school? I might not make it back again. But I can try.
I think I lack basic will power. I know I do. I lack will power when it comes to food. Maybe I am addicted? I could control myself when I was preggers with the babes, though.
Facts I know to be true:
I hate to sweat.
I love to dance.
I am a terrible dancer.
If I sweat when I dance I don't care.
I love to swim. I wish I was a mermaid in the water.
My weight plateauing (the "ing" implies motion or momentum as in a state of change -- not a constant) is not an excuse anymore. I am obsessed over my lack of progress when I have made so many great changes.
How do I change more? To say that I have to change when I am finally at the point in my life where I do love me, is hard.
FACT: I feel great before I eat. But once I do, once I make a bad choice, whatever that choice is:
- too much salad dressing
- croutons
- a slice of bread
- any CARB from grain, whatever it is ...
I don't feel good anymore.
But I do not like falling asleep at 4pm on a Sunday because I drank a Sprite and ate some chips. I don't want my daughter to tell me about a woman, she saw one day, that was bigger than me.
Why is she looking for that?
And since she saw someone that was bigger than me -- then my size is justifiable to her now? I am not that big. I am over 200 lbs. I said it. I am also 6 feet tall. If I was in New York I wouldn't even stick out all the much. In Montreal, adults in there 40's are super fit. Most women work out and most men are part of an adult sports league. It is just how it is done here.
I have thighs that lack a gap between them. But I am always in the pool playing with my kids and not sitting on a chair tanning or gabbing. I shame all the other moms that way and it is AWESOME. I am present with them in the pool. Everything averages out when gravity is on my side. I don't feel defined by my size at the pool - in the pool - with my kids..
My mom was overweight my whole life. I went from embarrassment to acceptance really early on. I also promised myself that I wouldn't be fat by the time my kids were young. Or I would at least solve the problem before they noticed. I don't want them to be teased because of me. I don't want to be the source of sadness or stress for them.
Now my son is 9 and my daughter is 7 and I still haven't managed to rid myself of the last 40 lbs. The last 40 lbs that have defined me for over 20 or maybe 30 years, The 40 that would are the difference between diabetes and no diabetes. At some point I will run out of time and it will happen,
All I can is make the right choices all day and all night. Everyday.
It is 2pm. The danger zone. I ate the salad for lunch and now I am ready for a 2nd lunch. The Starburst in the kitchen are calling me. I couldn't care less about the chocolate muffins. Thank goodness for small favors. If the lemon cake was still there - that might have been a problem. I reach or a ... yogurt.
Okay. Well done. Now I will walk the dog for the 3rd time today because she loves it. OOH what if I walked the kids to school? I might not make it back again. But I can try.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
I love how your belly shakes when you laugh
I enter the room and everyone gasps in awe because I look so killer. I am wearing red heels and a v-neck something that shows off my decolletage. I walk around smiling and talking. I know everyone in the room but cannot seem to recall any one conversation. Everyone's financial achievements is palpable - the diamonds, the clothing, the recent vacation tans. At least I am perceived thin. I achieved that. I finally look good. I walk over to a mirror to check my lipstick and then I am in a store trying to find food for the kids to eat. All I come across are tomato sandwiches (which I know the kids will never touch.) I ask for something else and all the lights turn off. I leave the store with no food for the kids.
I wake up and realize that THIS was my morning to sleep in an now it is 8:28am. If I go back to sleep I will have another weird dream.
All day when it comes to food I think DO THE RIGHT THING. Drink water, drink tea, stay away from carbs from grain, no extra sugar, more vegetables, no chips, only drink 1 Sprinte/7Up/Ginger Ale. It is EXHAUSTING.
I almost-ish have the food thing down. I have to find a way to make myself move more. And I need to get it going before it gets too hot.
I spoke to a friend of mine from college. She has always been inspiring because she keeps herself is such killer shape. I remember her in college and she always felt better taking a run and getting out of her head for awhile. Now she is a working mom of two with a myriad of things to contend with on a daily basis. Her stress is at an all-time high right now and in order to heal she has to go back to the basics.
Sleeping
Eating well
Exercise
I find myself thinking about what makes me different from these friends of mine? The ones that love to run. The thought of sweating to me sounds awful. Am I alone on that one really?
Why can they put down the cheese popcorn and I cannot? What drive do they have within them that says I would rather have a 26 inch waist then a chicken cutlet sandwich once a week?
Last night my son was telling me a story and we kept laughing together. Afterwards he said,
I wish my belly didn't shake. I was gutted again. I recovered quickly because I didn't want him to think that he had made me sad. I cannot tell him that. I have learned that to I have to love my body with all its curves and extra curves, and bumps, and scars in a way that shows both my children that they must love themselves. Always. Over anyone else. Over EVERYTHING else.
And with my honest beret on I have to say that when my daughter tells me that my butt it is cute (and that is the least cute thing about me aside from my feet,) I have to agree with her.
They will learn through my example that they are both smart, funny, creative, artistic, kind, and beautiful because I tell them that they are everyday.
I wake up and realize that THIS was my morning to sleep in an now it is 8:28am. If I go back to sleep I will have another weird dream.
All day when it comes to food I think DO THE RIGHT THING. Drink water, drink tea, stay away from carbs from grain, no extra sugar, more vegetables, no chips, only drink 1 Sprinte/7Up/Ginger Ale. It is EXHAUSTING.
I almost-ish have the food thing down. I have to find a way to make myself move more. And I need to get it going before it gets too hot.
I spoke to a friend of mine from college. She has always been inspiring because she keeps herself is such killer shape. I remember her in college and she always felt better taking a run and getting out of her head for awhile. Now she is a working mom of two with a myriad of things to contend with on a daily basis. Her stress is at an all-time high right now and in order to heal she has to go back to the basics.
Sleeping
Eating well
Exercise
I find myself thinking about what makes me different from these friends of mine? The ones that love to run. The thought of sweating to me sounds awful. Am I alone on that one really?
Why can they put down the cheese popcorn and I cannot? What drive do they have within them that says I would rather have a 26 inch waist then a chicken cutlet sandwich once a week?
Last night my son was telling me a story and we kept laughing together. Afterwards he said,
"I love how your belly shakes when you laugh."
I wish my belly didn't shake. I was gutted again. I recovered quickly because I didn't want him to think that he had made me sad. I cannot tell him that. I have learned that to I have to love my body with all its curves and extra curves, and bumps, and scars in a way that shows both my children that they must love themselves. Always. Over anyone else. Over EVERYTHING else.
And with my honest beret on I have to say that when my daughter tells me that my butt it is cute (and that is the least cute thing about me aside from my feet,) I have to agree with her.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Zumba Legs
Show
up and shut up. Be present. Stop making excuses. Stop doing the things that you
NEED to make excuses for.
I
am not in optimal shape (I don't want to use the word thin) because I like to
eat at the wrong times. The truth is I feel better when I don't eat at
all. Once I start it is every two hours
on this new regimented plan. If I keep to the plan, I eat well. If I don't have enough protein at home or salad, then I deviate.
By adopting the new tea & lemon water regimen
for the past 4 months I took off 15.5 lbs. I have not lost an ounce
in the past 2 weeks. Why? I don't move my body enough. The lemon water picks up my
metabolism. That helps. This week I have the morning shift with the puppy. First walk is 7:15am. I take the dog for a longer walk at 11am. I should take
her for a longer one at 1pm as well - just to move. She doesn't need it but I do. I have hit a plateau.
PLATEAU. I hate that word when it relates to weight.
I
Zumba'd with the kids during a school fundraiser and couldn't walk for at least
2 days afterward.
"Zumba
legs" I said when I wobbled down the stairs.
I
did more exercise in one night then in the last 6 months. But it felt good.
Great. I have never liked to exercise. I never found these endorphins that
really healthy in shape people talk about. Even when I was in shape at 16 I
never felt them. I just felt my awesome shapely thighs and loved how I looked
in clothes. At Zumba I was sweaty and happy. I felt young and cool and I
did it with all the wrong moves. I liked the sweat.
The Zumba scene was interesting. I am not modest and never have been. I am not conservative either.
I have always been a people watcher. When the ladies Zumba'd they were really
into it. They were focused and in control. The time spent was going to be paid for in sweat (FAME!) The ladies stared at the instructor and
moved their bodies in totally immodest ways. In between the songs the ladies would look at one another, chat, giggle, perhaps repeat a move, and then pant in anticipation of the next song. Once the music started again they all refocused.
I don't have that type of control or focus but that's okay too. Because I am awesome. I danced and sang
along probably (most definitely) too loudly. I just made sure to keep moving.
The kids had a great time and we felt good doing it all together.
Now
I have to do this again. Or something else. Today when my daughter comes home I
am going to try to teach her to ride her new bicycle. That's me. Being present.
Trying every day.
I
also drank a Ginger-Ale when my stomach hurt after lunch. Then I drank 64 oz if
water to flush the sugar away. The Gingle-Ale was awesome. It tasted great and did the trick. The water afterwards made me feel better about my choices. It's a battle.
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
When are you due?
I haven't been "due" since November 2007 when my belly fat was deemed socially acceptable because it was in fact my daughter. After her birth my inability to lose my fat-baby (which has been there since the late 1990's) was judged as decidedly lazy and undisciplined by mostly thin people.
The winter is finally over here in Montreal; that means; the coats are off, the sweaters stay in the car, the pants turn to skirts, shorts, and dresses, and the boots are replaced with sandals, flip-flops, and ballet flats. It is a rebirth of flesh and sunshine.
I am eating healthy and walking more. I feel good in my skin. I have lost weight, toned a tad, and have that New York spring in my step. I am wearing a dress and ballet flats. It is 78 F.
I walk into the Marche de L'Ouest in D.D.O (which is a small shopping mall filled with different kinds of stores: specialty foods, butcher, fish monger, flowers, gift items, and a new tea shop.) I walk past the new tea store. The tea hostess is offering samples of their new exotic green tea. I drink green tea daily. I am their market. Green Tea is my only source of caffeine. I take a sample from her tray and she says,
"You shouldn't drink that. When are you due?"
It hurts EVERY TIME.
Do I just look at her and say thank you? Thank you for assuming my fat was a baby. Thank you for your thoughtfulness in protecting my unborn fat-baby. Thank you for reminding me that no matter how awesome I feel walking in here you managed to slay me with 4 small words. Do I say thank you and pat my fat-baby and give the hostess back her tea? Can I make up an imaginary fat-baby that has a gender and a due date? Maybe my fat-baby has an awesome conception story? Do I engage and tell her that I am not expecting? Then I have to see that look on her face. It is the same look every time. Terror mixed with embarrassment with a sou-son of pity because I am clearly fat enough that the assumption was made in the first place.
Is it more important that I care about her feelings and subsequent reaction when she just crushed mine?
I cannot control where the weight disappears from on my body. I am on the right path. That is was matters.
When will the sting come out of those words? Why is it that those words are only spoken by thin people?
Here I am with my kids, no make-up, all me. Truly happy and not feeling like I am "due".
The winter is finally over here in Montreal; that means; the coats are off, the sweaters stay in the car, the pants turn to skirts, shorts, and dresses, and the boots are replaced with sandals, flip-flops, and ballet flats. It is a rebirth of flesh and sunshine.
I am eating healthy and walking more. I feel good in my skin. I have lost weight, toned a tad, and have that New York spring in my step. I am wearing a dress and ballet flats. It is 78 F.
I walk into the Marche de L'Ouest in D.D.O (which is a small shopping mall filled with different kinds of stores: specialty foods, butcher, fish monger, flowers, gift items, and a new tea shop.) I walk past the new tea store. The tea hostess is offering samples of their new exotic green tea. I drink green tea daily. I am their market. Green Tea is my only source of caffeine. I take a sample from her tray and she says,
"You shouldn't drink that. When are you due?"
It hurts EVERY TIME.
Do I just look at her and say thank you? Thank you for assuming my fat was a baby. Thank you for your thoughtfulness in protecting my unborn fat-baby. Thank you for reminding me that no matter how awesome I feel walking in here you managed to slay me with 4 small words. Do I say thank you and pat my fat-baby and give the hostess back her tea? Can I make up an imaginary fat-baby that has a gender and a due date? Maybe my fat-baby has an awesome conception story? Do I engage and tell her that I am not expecting? Then I have to see that look on her face. It is the same look every time. Terror mixed with embarrassment with a sou-son of pity because I am clearly fat enough that the assumption was made in the first place.
Is it more important that I care about her feelings and subsequent reaction when she just crushed mine?
I cannot control where the weight disappears from on my body. I am on the right path. That is was matters.
When will the sting come out of those words? Why is it that those words are only spoken by thin people?
Here I am with my kids, no make-up, all me. Truly happy and not feeling like I am "due".
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Mother's Day 2015
This weekend was Mother's Day. I slept in and enjoyed the children and husband. We planted a bit in the garden and it was low key. Just the way I like it. The husband took the kids to the park for two hours and I got to chill. I cooked extra hamburgers the night before so I could eliminate the need to cook. I ended up making KILLER steaks. I used the Asian marinade on the steak and BBQ'd them.
Here is my daughter, 7 years old, I see this as our love in a series of three moments:
And here is my 9 year old who says we can still snuggle till he is like 10, maybe 11 that the most.
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