Have You Missed Me?

Okay, I would love more than anything to say that I am back but let's be honest.  I tried that once only to disappear almost immediately following.  I will not promise, as my life has a way of consuming me, but I will hope to try to post once a week?  Twice a week?  I guess what I am trying to say is I will certainly do my best to post more often than I have been...which has been not at all.

For a while, I was so busy doing that I didn't have the time to write about it.  Nolan and I went through a faze in which we walked the lake every day, rain or shine.  That very productive train was derailed by a ridiculous knee injury caused by my attempt at running.  (Hopefully I will write an entire post on THAT even though it was months or so ago.)  In case I do not post about that experience, let me make a long story short and say that I happen to run more like a dinosaur than a gazelle.

Project Baby Weight has not been the only thing that has taken a back burner these last months; my world revolves around Nolan.  I don't just mean that in an "he's my son and I love him way;"  I mean that in an "everything about my baby consumes every ounce of thought and strength I have just to make it through the day" kind of way.  I know this sounds very dramatic but I am serious.  On more than one occasion I have contemplated calling the doctor for large doses of Zoloft and Xanax.  Perhaps if I just exercised I wouldn't feel the need for prescription meds but finding the time and energy to exercise is almost tantamount to exercise itself, of course without the caloric burn and health benefits.  Therefore, I have discovered a new form of self medication that has caused me to go in the opposite direction on weight loss and overall health.  Red Wine and Salt and Pepper Kettle Chips only to be consumed whilst watching trashy, time-wasting reality television (IE The Bachelorette) any time after 10 pm in the evening.  At my house we just call this Mommy Time.

Thanks to Mommy Time, I have gained 5 pounds.  I think it's finally time to reconstruct Mommy Time into something more beneficial both mentally and physically so I can move the scale in the other direction...fingers crossed!

About My Disappearence...

So about my gross negligence with my blogging....

Things in my life have been a little crazy. When I say things, I mean everything. When I say a little crazy, I mean street rat crazy. I won't give you the lengthy play-by-play because, quite frankly, no one has that kind of time or would be bored enough to want to read it, and so I'll spare you.
It all started with a fussy baby...a really fussy baby. It was like my precious little guy had developed colic over night at four months old; he just cried all the time. He would wake up every two hours during the night to cry. There was so much crying going on that at some point I started to cry. My husband would come home from work and Nolan and I would just be sitting there crying. Or even more likely, walking and bouncing while listening to John Mayer and crying (my son seems to be a big fan of the singer-songwriters. Listening usually calms him right down). We thought he was teething so we administered Tylenol and frozen washcloths to suck on. When none of that helped, I took him to the doctor but they couldn't find anything wrong so they said, "he's just teething." The crying just went on and on and the bags under my eyes continued to get bigger and darker as the house got more and more cluttered and Laundry Mountain reached epic heights. I barely had the time or energy to brush my teeth let alone blog!
About two weeks later, Nolan and I returned to the doctor's office for his 4 month (growing so fast) well baby check-up with a laundry list of questions and a journal detailing our tear soaked last few weeks. I was already discouraged just knowing that I was going to be told my baby just likes to cry and that I could go to a support group for moms who what to pull their hair out. I was wrong. The wonderful and fabulous Dr. Tolby (who happened to be my pediatrician back in the day) took a quick glance at my journal that detailed diaper changes, crying bouts, and feedings, and said to me, "it appears that the crying has increased as Nolan gets more formula and less breast milk (I just dried up). Let's switch his formula and see what happens." So we did. And it worked. Of course this new super hypo-allergenic formula is ridiculously expensive but you can't put a price on sanity.
Things in our household are slowly getting back to normal. We once again have a happy, smiling baby who rarely ever cries, the house has been de-cluttered, and Laundry Mountain conquered. My evening free time will once again be filled with gym trips and workout DVDs instead of wine and Desperate Housewives reruns. Oh! And of course blogging.

Food for Thought

Given all the effort I continually put into exercise, it is now necessary for me to put more effort into paying attention to the food I put into my body.  Casey and I actually eat very well; I make just about everything from scratch and we barely ever purchase anything boxed, processed or pre-made aside from snacks for his lunches.  That being said, not everything I make is always healthy.  While we eat tons of fresh fruit and veggies on a daily basis, there is a lot of room for improvement for some of the dinners I whip up.  I used to be very conscientious about making healthy decisions but every since pregnancy I have had much more of a devil may care attitude.  The home made macaroni and cheese that used to be a once a month or so indulgence turned into a once a week staple because I wanted it; I was pregnant and I was going to have whatever I wanted.  Now that I am not pregnant, I don't necessarily have that same mentality anymore but the habits have kind of stuck around.  I am not saying I am going to give up eating anything I want, it's just going to be in moderation, a treat if you will.

To help me put healthy dinners on the table are few very special cookbooks.  What makes these cookbooks special is not that they are "diet" cookbooks in any way, shape, or form; their recipes are for the same kinds of delicious foods you would find in Rachel Ray or The Barefoot Contessa (two of my favs) but for all of their recipes, they provide the nutritional information.  Everyday Food from the Kitchens of Martha Stewart has two cookbooks out, Great Food Fast and Fresh Flavor Fast that I turn too often.  Not every recipe in these cookbooks are low calorie by any means but at least the nutrition info is provided  so that I can make an informed decision about portion size or whether or not I want to try and tweak the recipe to make it healthier.  Having the nutrition info is also a very helpful for my husband who also wants to eat healthy but needs to hit a much, much larger number of calories a day than I do since he not only has a super fast metabolism but he is very athletic as well.  He may need me to fatten up his portion of dinner or he may just need to eat 2-3 portions.  My other two go to cookbooks are Ellie Krieger's The Food You Crave and So Easy.  Both of Ellie's cookbooks provide very nutritious recipes, as she is a nutritionist, with the nutritional info but they also include the vitamins and minerals that are found in that particular recipe.  I really like that her books aren't all broiled chicken and steamed broccoli.  She puts healthy spins on favorites such as mac and cheese and even French fries.

*It is my personal opinion that all cookbooks should provide this same convenience of containing nutritional info so that we as consumers have a better understanding of how much and what we are putting into our bodies, therefore allowing us to have a healthier, more satisfying, relationship with our food.*

Armed with the help of these four cookbooks, I am adding eating healthier to my mission to loose these last stubborn bits of baby weight (plus a little extra).  I will certainly not be outlawing any food I may want to eat, however I will be getting rid of the devil may care attitude and exercising control over what I put into my stomach, as well as exercising my stomach.

Girl, Interrupted

First and foremost let me apologize for my recent lack of posting.  It was a very busy weekend here at our household (postings to follow shortly, I hope) followed by some Internet issues.  Posting on the weekends is rather difficult but I will continue to give it my best.

Yesterday was an awesomely productive day!  Following the suggestion of my dear friend and fellow blogger, Kisha, I made my list of all things that needed to be done and set about doing my chores; One by one I crossed  them off my list as I went instead of my usual haphazard method of insanity where I start doing one thing but get distracted by another accomplishing nothing.  My productivity was almost derailed when I opened my mailbox only to discover that all of my favorite magazines had arrived.  There they were, Every Day with Rachel Ray and Food Network Magazine, among a few others, with their shiny glossy pages inviting me to stop what I was doing to flip though them.  I stayed strong however, because underneath that wondrous pile of recipes and advertising was a little cardboard package from Amazon.  It was here, my Tracy Anderson Post-Pregnancy Workout DVD.  I knew that as promised I was going to have to make time for myself to actually do this today and could not afford the distraction of silly magazines.

I went on with my cleaning until I could put it off no longer; it was time to workout.  I'll be honest, after scrubbing and mopping all day long I really just wanted to sit on my couch with a glass of wine and watch Desperate Housewives reruns while flipping through my magazines but I knew I could not.  So I put Nolan in his swing for his nap, busted out the yoga mat, and moved the coffee table.  I really didn't know what to expect from the video.  Everything I've seen from Tracy Anderson on youTube is really intense so needless to say, I expected to get my ass kicked.

The workout started off easy enough, just some simple crunches to "wake-up your muscles."  It progressively got more and more difficult as it started to incorporate a little weight with arm movements but nothing I felt I couldn't handle.  Don't get me wrong, it was certainly challenging, but the pace was nice and moderate and the whole workout is set to soft soothing classical music.  It was at this point in the workout that things stopped going so well.  My dog began whining. First a little and then so intensely that I had to press pause on my video to let him outside.  I no sooner got back to my mat and pressed play when my dog started barking at the front door because he now wanted back inside.  I pressed pause again and let Cam back inside.  I gave him strict orders to lay in his bed and be quiet so mommy could finish her workout and he complied like a good dog, but it was too late.  Cam's barking had awoken the baby.  Usually Nolan waking up from his nap isn't a big issue.  When he naps in his swing he is more than happy to hang out in for a short while once he has woken up.  Not this time.  Baby Nolan woke up angry and screaming.  I picked up my discontented baby and soothed him into the happy, smiling baby he usually is.  I propped up in his Boppy so he could watch me as I exercised and went back to my video.  I was able to make it through the next few minutes of the workout, which was not only getting more and more challenging, but certainly more acrobatic as well.  What started out as crunches quickly turned into unusual balancing and contorting that I don't yet have the strength for.  Nolan found it quite hysterical as his mommy grunted and exclaimed "oh my God" while trying balance in a plank position on my forearms as I attempted to lift and bend my leg and twist up my torso in a valiant effort to mimic the pretzel Tracy Anderson had turned herself into.  The laughter from my sweet baby quickly disippated into tears and I was forced to prematurely end my workout session.

I spent the next twenty minutes trying once again soothe my angry baby but this time was not so lucky.  He cried and carried on until his daddy came home and provided new and exciting forms of entertainment that only a daddy can.  By this time I was so over trying to finish the last ten minutes of acrobatic body contorting so I turned off the DVD and went about making dinner.

Even though I was unable to complete my mission, it was not a total disaster.  I did have thirty glorious, yet highly interrupted, minutes of exercise to check off my list.

Quick Decision

Yesterday was one of those days I was so busy I hadn't even thought about what I was going to do for exercise until my husband came home from work and asked me "so....? Are you going to the gym or what are you doing?  Zumba?"  Ugh.  "No Zumba" I responded, "I'm not ready to pour salt in that wound yet."  As he continued to talk to me I tuned him out so I could think of all the reasons why I couldn't go to the gym.  I had laundry, dishes, I was tired.  I think I had about 20 reasons right off the bat.  And I thought, nope, no excuses.  I interupted what ever it was that he was saying and said "YES!"  He looked puzzled, "yes what?" he asked.  "YES, I am going to the gym."

I quickly changed my clothes, grabbed my gym bag and a bottle of water, kissed my guys and off I went.  Sometimes it really is just that easy. 

My workout was nothing special, 45 minutes on the Precor AMT (which is an awesome machine by the way), but the fact that I made such a snap decision to workout is.

Girl Crush

Let it be known that I have a small obsession with Tracy Anderson.  For those of you who don't know, Tracy Anderson is the personal trainer of Madonna and Gwenyth Paltrow.  All of 5 feet tall and 90 pounds soaking wet (I'm guessing) this little gal is FIERCE. 

I bring this up my love for Tracy because I just ordered The Tracy Anderson Post-Pregnancy Workout DVD.  It will be here on Monday and I will make some space in my living room, pop it in the DVD player and give it a try.  Truthfully, I am scared because I know it is going to be super intense.

For more on Tracey check out
W magazine and Cookie

Easter Weekend

My weekend started with me riding high on the immediate success of my new blog.  I was getting great feedback and was even trying to squeeze in activity so I would have writing content.  My high latest about 5 minutes.  Maybe it was the never ending torrential downpours and hurricane worthy wind gusts, or maybe it was that Nolan was stuffy, congested, and not feeling or sleeping well but all of my new found energy was no was nowhere to be found.  Instead I was surrounded by a clean laundry mountain that rivaled Mt. McKinley, a dirty laundry mountain that rivaled Mt. Everest, and tons of other endless, thankless chores that needed my attention.  The shower needed scrubbed, the little box cleaned, the fridge cleaned out and on and on and on.  Needless to say I was entirely overwhelmed and under motivated.  When I get this overwhelmed, a sense of hysteria tends to set in;  I develop what my husband likes to call "The Crazies" and I spend all my time freaking out about everything that needs done and end up doing nothing. 

I really didn't want this to happen so I made a choice.  I really needed to deal with the state of affairs at home even if that meant forgoing exercise.  So Saturday was spent putting the house back together, going to the grocery store, and prepping food for Easter.  I ran around frantically folding this and disinfecting that, so frantically that I am almost positive it counted as exercise.  Okay maybe not but a girl can dream.  At the end of the day I could see a major dent in the madness that was my house but after all I did it was just that...a dent.  I tried to convince myself that it wasn't the end of the world; however, I needed extra convincing so I had a little conversation with Jack Daniels.  Mr. Daniels reassured me that my evening would be better spent cuddling with my husband and son and that the madness would still be there tomorrow.  Of course he was right so I resigned to the couch with my guys and my cocktail.

Sure enough when I awoke Sunday morning the laundry and clutter was still there.  The Easter bunny didn't do me any favors.  In fact, when I began my day puttering around my house while drinking my morning coffee, I found new mess.  The cat left me a present, three presents actually.  She threw up.  Twice on the carpet and once on the linoleum.  Maleficent (the cat) must have felt I needed more on my plate that day and as hard as I tried to keep them at bay, I was attacked by "The Crazies".  The rest of the morning was a whirlwind of hysteria, anger, and depression as I rushed to get my husband,  Nolan, and myself ready to go to my aunt and uncle's for Easter dinner.  I loaded the car up with lasagna Bolognese, beer, a Bumbo, a Boppy, a Baby Einstein playmat, and a baby and away we went.  I was just starting to calm down as we drove to our destination knowing that my dad would "babysit" Nolan while I sipped a lovely glass of Syrah and visited with grown-ups.  My dad, who had been out of town the whole week prior, was eagerly waiting outside for his grandson as we pulled into the driveway.  I stepped out of the car ready to hug my dad and then load his arms up with our carfull of crap when I was interrupted by a very strong breeze.  I had my very own Marilyn Monroe moment; however, not nearly as sexy.  My dress flew up towards my head and my ass, clad in a thong, was hanging out for all to see.  Including my dad.

Thankfully the remainder of the day was much more enjoyable then all the weekend events leading up to it; it was filled with delicious food, good wine, great family and a lot of laughter.  I love how even after a weekend plagued with "The Crazies" a few hours with my amazing family can turn it all around.

*These pictures are not from Easter.  I'm just trying to give you an idea of how fun my family is.*

Clarisonic Superstar

It only seems fitting that since I am already struggling with baby weight that I should struggle with being a pizza face as well.  Be it hormones, birth control, or the stress of being a new mom, my face resembles one large pepperoni pizza.  I haven't had skincare issues this bad since my freshman and sophomore years of high school; only now, they are even worse.  Not only am I plagued with pimples but now colonies of blackheads have taken over my chin and nose, my pores are enlarging exponentially by the day, and the skin around my eyes seems to be at risk for early onset fine lines.  Truly peoples, I am a mess.  A hot mess.

Lucky for me I have found salvation from dermatological purgatory in the Clarisonic Skincare Brush.  From the makers of the Sonicare toothbrushes, the Clarisonic is some heavy duty hardware for your bathroom.  There is plenty of technology to explain why and how this brush works (I'll let you click on the link to read all that for yourselves) but I am not going to concern myself with any of that.  What I care about is that this little wonder works very hard to right the wrong that is my face.  Gentle enough to be used twice a day it removes dirt and make up better than just washing my face alone.  In fact, I can wash my face with my at current favorite product and when I use the Clarisonic after the fact, there is tons on dirt and make up on the brush that my cleanser didn't get.  Plus it feels like a mini face massage.  I notice that my skin tends to be smoother, more even in color, and all in all just more glowy.  Most importantly though, when used religiously I don't suffer from teenage break-out hell. 

GGG

Before pregnancy, I rode mountain bikes with some awesome ladies.  We called ourselves the GGG, Growlers Gulch Girls.  I have to say, I am so lucky to be able to ride with these gals because they are bad ass and I learn a lot from them.  Even though most (ok, lets be honest, more like all) of these gals are worlds above me in talent, any one of them would take the time to help me learn how to over a huge log, ride with me at my pace, or work with me on climbing a gnarly hill.

Two ladies of the GGG and I all had babies within about 6 months of each other. (Notice the picture to the right.  Nolan - 3 months, Riley - 9 months, and Leon - 4 months).  We all still ride mountain bikes but these days we spend less time on our bikes and more time pushing strollers.  And when I say we I mostly mean they.  Yesterday I got together with Riley's and Leon's mommies, Sara and Ksenia, and we went for a stroll...in the pouring rain.  Normally I would not be caught dead in the pouring rain.  Yes, I am afraid that I might melt.  However, not these ladies.  They are tough; they are hard core.

At the beginning of our walk the sun was shining and there was only a light breeze.  About 10 minutes into our walk that light breeze became strong gusts and the sun disappeared behind monster rain clouds and it began to pour.  We turned ourselves around and headed back to the house...for rain jackets and gloves.  I would have been happy to give up the walk for a warm house and a cup of coffee but it was not to be so.  In fact I don't think the thought of not walking ever even occurred to Sara or Ksenia.  I didn't want to seem like I couldn't hang with the hard cores so I kept my mouth shut, put on my rain coat and a borrowed pair of gloves and off we went.  We walked in the downpour for a solid two hours.  Surprisingly the time flew and I barely noticed the rain thanks to the steady flow of conversation.  I don't think there is anything I couldn't talk about to these amazing gals.  We swapped mommy hood stories and shared things like the fact that sometimes we don't get around to brushing our teeth until noon or scrub our showers as often as we should because we can't have the baby in the bathroom with the chemical smells and when the baby naps sometimes we want to as well. 

It was very reassuring to learn that I am not the only one that struggles.  It is just part of the day to day.  These struggles help us become better moms, better wifes, and better friends.  Even though I was soaking wet on my drive home from our walk, I didn't feel cold and wet.  On contrary I felt quite warm and fuzzy.  I am learning, albeit very slowly, that I can do anything...rain or shine.

Namaste!

Wednesday came and went in a flash.  It was just one of those days when I feel busy all day but accomplish nothing.  By the time 5:00 pm rolled around and I was still tackling laundry mountain in my sweatpants, I realized that I hadn't done anything physically active, aside from chores, and that I better do something so that I could have something to blog about.  I quick changed into some yoga clothing, opened the hall closet, and began sifting through shoes and hats in order to unearth my long forgotten, once loved purple yoga mat. 

You see, pre-pregnancy I was all about the yoga.  It made me feel strong and centered.  In the 30 minutes I spent concentrating on my breathe while moving through poses with names like downward dog and swan, the world just melted into the background.  For those 30 minutes the only thing that mattered was me.  My yoga of choice is Namaste Yoga on FitTV.  I DVR'd them all so I can do my yoga on my own schedule.

Purple yoga mat in hand, I set out moving the coffee table and plethora of children's toys to make some space for myself.  I propped Nolan up in his Boppy pillow so he could watch me.  As I scrolled through all DVR'd episodes searching for Swan (my favorite sequence) I was wondering to myself, if yoga makes me feel so good, why did I ever stop doing it?  Why did I stop exercising period for that matter?  I couldn't answer my own question.  Is it because I'm lazy?  Do I have poor time management?  Do I forget to take time for myself?  Or did I just get too comfortable with my jiggly arms and wobbly thighs?  I still don't know the answer.

I once again felt strong and centered as I moved through the Swan sequence even though I had lost a great deal of flexibility; I still had strength.  The world began to melt away and it was just me and my breathe and Nolan cooing in the background.  I had no people around to judge me or what I looked like.  I had no mirrors in which to judge myself and what I looked like.  Even though my pants started bunching and my tank top began creeping upwards exposing my stretch mark covered belly I didn't care.  It was just me and my breathe, strong and alive doing something for myself that made me feel great.  In that moment it didn't matter to me why I stopped, it only mattered that I started again.

If you have FitTV and an extra 30 minutes to yourself, grab a yoga mat or a towel and try some Namaste.  I highly recommend it.

Zumbaland

Last night was my first attempt to reenter the world of excercise.  I made plans to attend the Zumba class at my gym; I had my husband to watch Nolan, I had dinner all arranged, I was all ready to go.  Until it came time to get myself to go to class. 


The adventure began with trying to find something to wear.  This was a daunting task.  Since giving birth I have refused to purchase any new clothing to fit me now.  I do not want one single reason to stay at my current weight.  All of my gym clothes seem fine to wear around the house on a day to day basis, but Zumba was not just around the house.  It was an organized fitness class in front of wall to wall mirrors and people. 

Now I understand that what I look like at the gym shouldn't matter.  I'm there to work out, not to impress anyone.  Normally I would fully agree but since I was going to be looking at myself the entire time, I wanted to look good...for myself.  So I put on some black yoga pants, a long black tank, and an American Apparel t-shirt.  I touched up my concealer, added a little blush, and even put on some lipgloss.  I thought I looked alright.  I left the house armed with my gym card, a bottle of water, and all the self-confidence I could muster.

Walking into the class I felt just fine.  The instructor was very sweet and unassuming and the class was a mixed bag of ladies from all different fitness levels.  I found myself a spot up front off to the side and started shaking my hips to the music.  Zumba was fun!  It wasn't difficult and I kept up just fine.  It was going great until I stopped watching the instructor and started watching myself in the mirror.  Let me tell you ladies, it was a major reality check.  I did not recognize myself.  I guess I have had this idea of what I look like stuck in my head and it didn't match up to the person looking and Zumba-ing back at me.  I was fat.  My outfit looked frumpy.  I had lost my rhythm.  Gone was the happy bouncy cheerleader.  I was reminded of what it felt like to be in junior high school where I was this curvy, well developed awkward girl in a sea of skinny minis.  Now this was all in my head mind you, no one made me feel this way but me.  None the less, it was discouraging.  I went back to watching the instructor and just gave it my all.

After the class was over I felt amazing.  I had a Zumba high and the endorphins were running rampant.  I was definitely going to go back.  I packed up my stuff and headed for the car.  On my way home, the endophins left my body and I was overcome with all of those feelings of discovering myself in the mirror.  I'm not going to lie; I cried.  At first it was just a little bit.  I felt so unattractive, quite possibly the most unattractive I have ever felt.  My the time I got home the few tears running down my cheeks had developed into full on sobing.  I pulled my car into the garage, gave myself a moment to wallow in my self pity before wiping my face, pulling up the proverbial bootstraps and going inside. 

I shared my adventure with my husband.  He told me I was beautiful.  That is took nine months to get to where I am and that change isn't going to happen over night.  He told me he loved me no matter what  I thought I looked like.  He was right and my moment of wallowing passed.  The important thing is that I am doing something about it.  I will go back to Zumba.  I will wear something that hopefully doesn't make me look so frumpy and I will definitely  wear more make-up.  But most importantly, I will wear a smile.  Because this is only the beginning.

(The picture of Nolan obviously has nothing to do with my post except that this is how I entertained him while I wrote it)

Where it all began...

It's amazing how in the moment I met Nolan I knew that there was no one in the entire world I could ever love more even though I knew nothing about him...

In the last three months since this picture was taken I have made some feeble attempts at exercise. A handful of trips to the gym and a few spins out at Growlers on my mountain bike but nothing regular or consistent. That must change starting today. My wonderful hubby is taking over the baby duties tonight so I can go shake my groove thing at Zumba. I have never done Zumba before and I am very out of shape so it should be interesting. Of course I will let you know how it goes.

Getting Started

Being a new mom is hard. Rewarding, but hard. I'm three months into my life as a mom, which is my greatest accomplishment, and I finally feel like I'm starting to figure things out. For example, when my son is tired, he shakes his head and rubs his eyes. When he gets fussy he probably wants to eat. I know when he wants to cuddle, when he wants to play, read books, and sing and dance with mommy. I feel like a great mom. But then I look in the mirror and my reflection reminds me that there is more to life than just being Nolan's mommy. I am also a wife, a housekeeper, the family CEO & CFO, a woman who once cared about her appearance. It is in these moments when I get discouraged. I need to find balance in my life.

So here is my blog; my way to hold myself accountable. My outlet to share my struggle to lose baby weight, find balance, and anything else I think people just might want to know.

Wish me luck!