Ordinary Moments with Diva Darling

Diva Darling and I had to pass the time while Pride & Joy was at a birthday party.  I didn’t want to drive back home only to turn around again.  Instead Diva and I went to the grocery store and then sat in the car eating Oreos.  Diva was most pleasant, ecstatic to be allowed to sit in the front seat.  I was most pleasant, not fretting about Oreo crumbs. (I didn’t post about it but in the 3 days prior I already dealt with projectile vomit and 2 canisters of baking sugars, thankfully not together, all over Diva Darling’s car seat.  Oreos seem rather innocuous at this point.)

A calm, ordinary, but joyous moment with my child.  No resentment.  Or wishing I was doing something else.  Or rushing here and there.  Just in a state of being.  I’m glad I snapped a picture.  I want to remember that there should be moments like this every day (and there are but I don't appreciate them nearly enough) when I am enjoying the moment, living the moment, not distracted.

What’s In A Morning? (Or How I Know I Have Embraced Suburban Mama Lifestyle)

I am breezing through life today in a velour lounge suit with ballet flats.  This attire signals a true embrace of all things Suburban Mama.  I’m not even trying to fake anyone out (or myself) by wearing running shoes, as if I already did or am going to do my workout at some point today.  Some days elevated heart rate results only from over-consumption of coffee or having Diva Darling scare me half to death with her Near Miss Catastrophe of an Inquisitive Toddler Brain.

What I am really trying to embrace is taking my day slow, let it unfold, not having my mind racing, accepting the Now and relishing in its moments.  Letting go.  Letting go of Facebook updates and email checks, letting go that I wish I was doing something else, letting go of trying to be the perfect mama, letting go that I will never have “House Beautiful” while I’m living in it 24-7.  Embracing that my life is about Diva Darling, Handsome Little Man, Incontinent Dog #1, and Neurotic Dog #2.  Embracing that there is A LOT OF LOVE every single day, but there is A LOT OF CLEANING every single day, too.  They just go hand-in-hand.  And the sooner I accept it, the less frustrated I will be.

So as I write this, Diva Darling naps.  The dogs nap.  The washing machine is whirling. I can’t check Facebook or email because the Internet is down, which is a good thing.  I also can’t check Craigslist, which I also check daily about employment opportunities, thinking that the perfect job will appear for which I am the perfect candidate, and accepting it will be worth the juggle.  Please note that actually submitting a cover letter and resume is an entirely different subject.  But in my head, I have the job! 

So my morning:

• Boy up.
• Diva Darling up.  Diaper Change.
• Boy & Diva Darling fed.
• Snack/lunch made for the Boy.
• Barked at the Boy to hurry it up.
• Walked Boy to the bus stop with Diva Darling in tow (Carried).
• Let Diva Darling walk back to the house ever so slowly.  Up the stairs.  Down the stairs.  Explore.
• Walked Neurotic Dog to do her business, while keeping an eye on Diva Darling.
• Walked Incontinent Dog to do her business.  Had help from Diva Darling.
• Diaper Change.

• Diva Darling Captivated by Potty Trainer & Toilet Paper.  This is a surprise since I have not even introduced this concept to her.  She does tell me when she has soiled her diaper and wants to be changed right away.  But today she was watching me on the toilet (yes, yes.  There is no privacy.  Ever.  I know.  TMI.).  And I showed her the potty (which doubles as a step stool), which has been the bathroom all this while.  And she sat on it and “practiced” with toilet paper. Hmm.  I do know they say girls pick up on this earlier than boys.  We shall see.
• Chased Diva Darling around to change her clothes and get ready for class.
• Diva Darling & I attended a Mommy & Me movement class.  Skipped out early because Diva Darling is not playing nice.  After redirecting her a gazillion times and telling her to use “Gentle Hands”, I reached my limit.  We went outside to the playground instead.
• Ran to the drugstore for envelopes (Room Parent responsibility) and milk (Errand for my neighbor).
• Home.

The only time I write is when Diva Darling is asleep.  I write at naptime or late at night.  So as I type, I now have a slumbering child, and then soon it will be time to feed the well-rested Cyclone.  Chase the Cyclone.  Diaper Change the Cyclone.  Play with Cyclone.  Meet the other Cyclone at the Bus Stop.  

Let’s not even discuss the 4pm to 8pm After-school Duty.  That’s a whole post by itself!

And there’s my day.  But I’m wearing my velour lounge suit and therefore, I can do all things!

Slim & Trim - Day 1, aka Sweaty Mess

Who starts an outdoor workout regimen in the dog days of August?  A highly motivated mama who is hoping to not keel over anytime soon (Spoiled Wifey Aside:  although my new unease is that I’m going to be knocked off by some random driver, distracted by texting.  Damn you, Smart phones!).

Do I look “hot” in my post-workout photo?  Um, yes, hot but not in the beautiful sense.  I definitely look hot, as in a sweaty, hot mess. Yup, so I decided to take a jog around the block, which happens to be a half mile.  And then I got overly ambitious, or perhaps I was lacking adequate oxygen to the brain to make lucid decisions, and decided to do it again.  My first baby steps and I felt terrible.  Sucking air hard, extremely sweaty, and not enjoying it one bit.  Where was my endorphin rush?!  The only highlights were (1) stopping and (2) coming inside to the cool air conditioning.

I am using RunKeeper to keep track of my “progress”, which is entertaining in a self-deprecating way, when a few minutes after my first run I get an email notification that states “Congratulations!  You have run your farthest distance to date.”  Seriously?  I get an electronic fist bump for moving all of 1 mile?  I won’t bother to share my pace.  Or how many times I walked.  I burned enough calories to think about consuming a glass of red wine, but to think about it only.  I can’t actually enjoy a glass of red wine until my calorie burn equals consumption.  It could be a while.  At least two more electronic fist bumps, for sure.

GOALS

(1)    Oct 1:  See progress in all my numbers:  Cholesterol.  Blood Pressure.  Whatever else they are testing me on and using their scare tactics for healthy behavior modification.

(2)   Run/Walk/Crawl a 5K on Sep 22.  In my 20s, I used to run long distance races frequently, albeit slowly.  My knees have never forgiven me.  I neither have the time or desire to run half or full marathons again.  But certainly, I can run a 5K and think it’s fun. 

(3)   ZUMBA!  Not one, but two classes a week, starting in September.  Do what you love, and then it doesn’t feel like a workout.  I can swing my hips with the best of them!

Note that I am not making a weight loss goal at this time, because surely if I am moving and not stuffing my face with comfort foods, the pounds will drop.  I also note that I need to add strength training.  But right now my focus is to just start moving, on a regular basis, without bitching about it.  Strength training is intimidating to me.  So we will save that when I am a bit farther down the road and committed.

FOOD CHALLENGES

I can already feel myself getting agitated as I think about this.  I think making good food choices consistently will be the most difficult for me.  I am not a gal who likes to deny myself of anything.  Willingly cut back on dessert?  Are you serious?  I have decided to cut back on cake (bye-bye, tiramasu. *sigh*) and only indulge when I dine out, which isn’t often.  I still have snack size chocolate popsicles, and I do snack on chocolate & almonds.  I can’t make too many draconian cutbacks all at once. 

I am already losing interest in my own post about food, as I am sipping my red wine.  Don’t judge.  This is my first glass of wine in over a week.  And it’s only one glass.  Ok, maybe two.

Wish me self-discipline!

Discipline & Health (Or in my Case, Indulgence & a Fat Belly)

I like to think about things for a long time before I ever lift a finger to do them.  I have also been characterized as a dreamer or a schemer.  Sometimes, I motivate and actually put thoughts into action.  However, rarely, do I actually complete a task or chase a dream or initiate a scheme.   Hubby recently told me he finds this trait quite annoying.  I’m not sure why I am like this.  Sometimes it annoys me, too.  Something always holds me back.  Fear of failure, Boredom, Attention Diverted, A New Dream.  I don’t know.  But I have recognized this lack of initiative and follow-through for awhile now.  

Now that I have an awareness of this, how do I move past it in order to accomplish things that I know will make me happy?  And healthy? And energetic?

*Baby steps*  

My friend reminded me of this well-known but never-the-less true idea of baby steps.  Start out small.  Just a little bit at a time.  Manageable chunks.  With a goal in sight.

This friend is very disciplined in life, in diet, in fitness.  Well, just about everything.  Frankly, I think it sounds boring.  No alcohol.  No desserts.  The same foods day in and day out.  (Think protein.  No caffeine.  Water, water, water.)  On the flipside, my friend is very healthy with a smokin’ hot body.

I want a smokin’ hot body.  I just don’t want to work for it.  In my mind, enjoying a variety of foods is a joy of life.  Feasting sounds fabulous.  Deprivation does not.  Working out every day sounds exactly that – working out.  Ugh.

And yet, as Little Man and I are watching the Men’s Synchronized Diving Competition on the Olympics last night, Little Man made a cutting comment to me, cutting only because of the innocent observation in which it was made of the undeniable.  Little Man noted that the men were wearing tiny swim shorts. I was explaining that the divers were very muscular and had very little fat on them.  To which Little Man replied “Mama, you have a little fat on you.”  No kidding, he pats my belly as he says this, but in an innocent way.  Ay!

This conversation does go further as it is begging to be a teachable moment.  I agree with Little Man.  Yes, Mama does have a “little fat”.  But I remind him to be careful about what he says about other people’s body.  Why, Mama?  Because people can be sensitive about their bodies.  He gets it.  We have talked about fat bellies before (Grandpa is currently a robust Santa lookalike right now).  We have discussed good food choices and moderation.  (Which seemed like a good discussion until he pointed out rather loudly one day on an errand run that the woman with a belly over there was obviously drinking too much juice. Ay!)

So back to my lack of initiative and turning it around.  How do I develop self-discipline?  How do I develop a love for fitness? How do I change my attitude about food moderation without feeling deprived?  I really like my coffee with cream and sugar.  Red wine at night.  Cheetos.  Desserts. Late night snacking.  I’m already feeling stress as I type, thinking about future deprivation.  I’m starting to feel pissed off that I have to hold off.  I am a hedonist.  I almost always go for instant gratification. (Let’s not even begin discussing the credit card.)

However, I’m also unequivocally feeling the stress of my doctor’s remarks earlier this week about my elevated numbers.  If vanity doesn’t motivate me, longevity or lack thereof just might be the right motivator.

In the next few days, I will post my goals.  My toughest challenge will be making the time to work out, to make it a priority, and to not hate it or be resentful about it. 

And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drink a big glass of water before bedtime to trick myself into thinking I’m full and not eat the little bag of chips that has been whispering sweet nothings to me for the past 30 minutes.

 

[Aside: Clearly, I should follow my friend’s example of not inviting temptation into the kitchen by not buying questionable food in the first place.  I don’t know.  The love affair with my salty succulent little bag of chips has been going on for quite some time.  I’m not sure I have it in me to quit him just yet.  Could I ignore his advances if I am armed with a higher purpose? I'm holding steady right now with my cool, refreshing glass of non-caloric water.]

Random Thoughts on a Random Tuesday of the Summer

I’ve been neglecting you, Blogosphere & Future Me (Leisure Reading for my 40s as to what I did in my 30s).  No surprise – I’ve been busy, keeping up with the kids during summer break, travel, and getting rid of stuff.

STUFF!

The rate at which “stuff” comes into my house DOES NOT equal the rate at which “stuff” exits.  I am making progress very slowly.  I am motivated this week to increase my purging productivity.  My very generous MiL bought Little Man bunk beds, which were delivered this past Sunday.  Due to built-in shelves in Little Man’s room, the kids have to switch rooms.  Furniture is all over the house in the interim.  I’m debating what to do with the queen mattress now.  It is currently stuck on the basement stairwell.  I thought I could move it alone and that it would slide down the stairs.  Um, no.  It’s too big.  Which also means we (me + whomever I recruit to move it) probably won’t be able to fit it through the walk-up stairs to the attic.  The bed frame, which was in very bad shape after multiple moves and one too many fun times, is already broken up into pieces, outside, waiting for trash pickup (also dependent on when I can recruit someone to help me move it on a Sunday).  This not-having-Man-Muscles-around can really become inconvenient at times.  (An aside:  I’m trying to figure out how to reconnect my cable.  I may have to Borrow-A-Husband for this duty.  Ugh!)

MID-POINT OF SUMMER

The key to survival is SUMMER CAMP!  Little Man is in camp 7 out of 10 weeks of summer.  It’s just better for everyone.  This week he is in Creative Drama Camp with a Norse theme (Think Thor).  Next week is Harry Potter Camp with a science focus.  The first 3 weeks of summer was Peace Camp, a family visit to Wisconsin, and “Mommy Camp.”  For Mommy Camp, I had all these great ideas.  The only idea that came to fruition was a movie “Madagascar 3” to include popcorn & Icee (Food cost more than the movie tickets!).  I somehow lazed out of swimming and Chuck E Cheese (thankfully!).

Diva Darling is in part-time daycare.

Having a few hours to myself a week has been integral to maintaining my sanity this summer.

FAMILY VISIT & BACHELORETTE PARTY

I, of course, have much more to tell, but alas the bed is calling.  I’m up too late as it is.  If I wait to post until I complete my original intentions, we all know it won’t get posted.  Perhaps in the near future, I will post some notes/observations about the annual trek to Wisconsin for the Great-Grandparents Anniversary Celebration and my mad party planning skills for my BFF’s Bachelorette Party.  I am still recovering.  Not necessarily from excessive debauchery  but from sleep deprivation.  To bed!

Live Simply. Unless Planning a Kid’s Birthday Party.

Slow down, Mama!  Do you remember any of your childhood birthday parties?  Oh, You don’t?  Are you spending hours upon hours of party planning for a party your child will vaguely remember in adulthood?  

  

Why, yes I am.

I know he won’t even remember the details of this party, only that he had one.  So really I just need to calm down and regroup.  So far today I have been working myself into a frenzy as the countdown to the party has begun and I haven’t checked off too many things from the Party To Do list.  Really, I just need to remember – this is just for a bunch of 6-year old boys.  It does not need to be complicated. They just want to play together.

Take a deep breath.  The Boy knows he is loved.  And he doesn’t have to be completely Spoiled.

So the birthday shenanigans started when the Boy declared that he really, really, really wanted a LEGO Ninjago party.  Not the Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream Sundae Party I had been planning.  You know that type of party that all parents love. All I have to do is send out the invitations and then pull out the credit card.  The proprietor does all the rest.  I was so excited for the Ben & Jerry’s party:  They’d make tie-dye T-shirts.  They’d play Pin the Tail on the Cow.  They’d make their own sundae creations.  Best of all, this was at the shop, NOT at my house.  

Win-win for Everyone.  Except for the Boy.

“But Mom, I LOVE Ninjago.”

“Honey, why don’t we have the party at Ben & Jerry’s with a Ninjago theme?”

“No, I want to have a Ninjago party at my house.”

Clearly, this child is unaware HOW MUCH WORK THAT IS and does not know how much it stresses me out to have people over, even little people, primarily because it requires a CLEANING FRENZY.  And I only have so much energy. And not enough money and too much guilt to hire a cleaning service.

“But sweetie, if we have the party here at the house, you can only invite 6 or 7 of your friends.”

“That’s ok, Mom.”

DRATS!

Well, I suppose I could make an executive decision and tell him that’s too bad.  “You get what you get, and you don’t get upset.” A line I have happily adopted from his kindergarten teacher.  However, I know the Boy would be the Happiest Boy for the Day with a Ninjago party.  I want to be that mom, his mom, who delivers smiles & happiness.  I can’t give him the world (nor do I want to, ok maybe I want to but know it’s not good to hand over everything they want.) but I can give him a Ninjago party.

Really, how hard can it be?

(However, I should know by now that when I ask that out loud, it’s always way harder than I think it will be.)

First of all, LEGO Ninjago is relatively new.  While there are episodes of Ninjago on Cartoon Network these days, fueling the love my boy is developing, the theme has not yet hit the party favor circuit.  There are no Ninjago invitations or party wares online or at Target.  Which also probably means that there is no easy cake options either at Safeway. *sigh*

I hit up Etsy for the party invitations.  I just barely got them out 2 weeks prior.

After running myself ragged with pursuing all the potential party ideas (hiring a Sensei Wu to lead a Ninja class, finding skeleton or snake piñatas, finding rubber snakes for a snake scavenger hunt, buying a Spinjitzu arena, etc), I finally settled on these ideas for the party:

1. Decorate your own Goodie Bag with Ninjago stickers. 
2. Pinata with a Twist. 
3. Foam shurikens.
4. Watch a Ninjago Episode.
5. Spinjitzu Arena.

 My next post, I will share photos of the party, which was a smashing success. Whew!

I f*cking hate happy, "in love" thirty-something people on Facebook. Makes me want to vomit.

I can't post this on Facebook because then all my friends & acquaintances would worry about my mental health.

And I'm fine, really.

But I do want to rant & rage a little bit.

My complaint for the day:  I f*cking hate happy, "in love" thirty-something people on Facebook.  Makes me want to vomit.

Please, spare me the gushing about marrying your best friend.  Really?  Come on. 

Today I just have a dark cloud hovering over my head, about to start raining heavily, maybe even hailing. 

I am experiencing a few major transitions right now.  Frankly, it sucks because my immediate future looks rather bleak and unbalanced.  However, I have to be strong for myself and for children.  But I'm not feeling strong right now.  In fact, I really want to take something that will take off the edge.  Don't worry, I'm not hitting the bottle although it sounds like a lovely escape.  Instead, I just ate several things that will make me fat and jack up my cholesterol.  I'm over-caffeinated, too.

Overall, I'm just acknowledging that my little world sucks right now.  That is all.

Hot Stiletto Peep Toe Pumps Can Be Worn in a Pinch for Business Casual Attire, Right?

I had a casual job interview earlier this week for a part-time marketing admin position.  As I have stated before, I am a just-in-time gal (Read: Procrastinator). So even though I have been on a slow, steady plod back to the working world of paid employment  (Updating my resume, writing cover letters, dreaming about how delightful it will be to spend those dollars earned, longing for adult conversation/connection), I hadn’t yet given much thought as to my business wardrobe.  Or more precisely what to wear to an interview.

As I was getting dressed for the meeting, I faced a minor crisis.  What is appropriate business casual attire these days?  Do I even have any article of clothing that would be presentable?  My wardrobe after six years in a Domestic Goddess position has morphed into jeans & t-shirts, workout attire, and a few sexy outfits complete with hot stiletto peep toe pumps for Hubby’s benefit.  But business casual?  Oh, I had to dig deep back into the depths of the closet and I found a pair of black slacks. 

I thought wearing black was suppose to be very forgiving to flaws of the figure.  Apparently, that is not an universally true statement.  Especially when the black pants are the wrong size.  I’m not complaining too much because the pants were too big (Yay!), and the hem was too long.  I did not have any appropriate shoes to wear with the pants.   The only shoes that would clear the hem were my super cute, definitely not business appropriate, stiletto pumps. The length of the pants thankfully covered the slingback style and most of the 4” heel. Gah!

Long story short: I had a pleasant meeting but no job offer. Afterward, I was thinking once again in-depth about my life and passions.  I’m really starting to dislike the soul-searching, do-what-you-love, what-are-you-passionate about conversations that I’ve been having lately with lots of people, especially in light of my temporary ‘single parent’ status.  I am first and foremost passionate about my family, supporting my husband’s career while staying at home with my children.  And yet I am still apologetic about it because being very traditional seems so foolish, not welcomed nor truly valued today.  Truthfully, I have no idea yet what I am passionate about.  I like to do many things but I’m not necessarily passionate about it (i.e. make it happen no matter the challenges.)

At this point in time, I just want to find a part-time gig to get me out of the house so I can interact with people.  I want to resurrect some old skills or cultivate new skills, but do something a little bit more than  retail or making coffee.  I know I don’t want the hours associated with retail or with being an awesome kick-ass barista.  I’d like to explore marketing in any setting.  Oh and I also think it would be nice to earn enough to break even with the cost of daycare.  However, it’s looking more and more likely that volunteering (and writing) will provide my sanity check this year.  Unfortunately, volunteering does not support my retail therapy when I need it nor pay for daycare.

Bottom line:  Essentially I am paying money to volunteer in order to stay sane, all while wearing sexy but wildly inappropriate stiletto shoes around town!