The crier

I am a crier. Well, I'm not an all-the-time-crier, because I love to laugh more than crying, but I'm definitely getting soft in my old age. I used to be "tough", whatever that means, refusing to cry and I would just get mad and lash out. I didn't acknowledge pain or fear, I just turned them into anger. And now, as a more self-aware 30-something, I cry. I cry for my family or my friends and I cry for strangers, too. And if you cry in front of me, I will cry with you, whether it's through happiness or sadness. When my friends hurt, I hurt, too. When my friends are happy, I am happy, too. And if I get choked up while telling a story, just ignore me. Or give me hug, but beware, that will probably make me cry even more. 

I sometimes cry when I'm thanking someone because I am truly so thankful that it comes seeping out of my eyes. I don't always feel like "Thank you" and a hug or a pat on the back are enough, which begs the question, how do you adequately convey your gratitude?

I cry at commercials. There used to be a commercial for one of the hospitals in Oklahoma City and they would show different cancer survivors and the last person they showed was a skinny, old cowboy with a rugged, leathered face and a slight hunch to his back, holding his cowboy hat and wearing a plaid shirt and his Wranglers. The first time I saw it I thought, "That's what my brother is going to look like some day," and I immediately burst into tears. You know how that sneaks up on you? You're fine and then all of a sudden you either gasp or you can't hold your breath and some kind of violent puff comes out of your mouth? Yeah, it was like that. It was ugly. I'm glad I was alone. 

I cry when we buy our Angel Tree gifts at Christmas. The angels on our local tree only have practical things like socks, underwear, shirts, or jeans written on the angels. I'm not sure if there's a rule that the children have to ask for things that they need, like clothes, and are not allowed to ask for fun stuff, like toys and games, or not. As D and I were walking through Walmart, I had to walk ahead of him because I didn't want him to see the tears that were about to come out of my eyes. I knew he felt the same way I did, but I just felt a little silly for crying about it. I was looking at these little paper angels and thinking about the little girl and boy who only asked for socks and underwear and it just hurt me that they didn't have anything fun written down. Children should have some fun things. So, I don't know if it broke the rules or not, but we bought them age appropriate toys on top of the clothing items they had asked for. And I'm not sorry if it broke the rules. I'm just not. Sorry for not being sorry. 

Sometimes I cry when I look at old photographs. There are people that I've lost and I miss them terribly. Sometimes I laugh at the memory of something funny, other times I cry from the pain of missing them. The pain of not hearing their voice. Or their laugh. Or the touch of their hand. Or the smell of their cologne or perfume. Or just watching their habitual movements, like the way they walked or held a coffee cup.

I cry when I see people go to the front of the church to pray during the altar call. I don't know what they're struggling with, but I can see that something is bothering them and they're looking to God for help. And while I may not ask what's wrong, because I think if it were my business they would have told me, I am still standing (or kneeling) with them in prayer.

I don't cry because I'm weak, I cry because I need an emotional release and crying is part of a healing process. It allows me to let go of the stress and pain and move forward, rather than to hold it all in and bottle it all up and then explode on some poor unsuspecting person in a fit of rage. I cry because I am a woman who was created from flesh, which makes me more emotional than a man who was created from dirt. So, if you see me wiping away a tear, don't be alarmed, it's just normal. Or I've just watched a cutie patootie baby or animal video with horses. Or dogs. Or kittens. Or bears. Or rabbits. Or lions. 

The new world order

"You will never find time for anything. If you want time, you must make it."

This little tidbit is really ringing true with me lately. I saw this in a magazine and cut it out to put on my bathroom mirror. Do you do that? I love to clip out little snipits of wisdom and then put them where I can see them and be reminded daily. I haven't had any magazine subscriptions for a year or so, but I finally renewed a couple of them and with the first issue I was already into some good stuff!

These two short sentences ring true with pretty much every aspect of my life right now. I'm constantly weighing the scales between time with my son and husband or doing chores and working out. I have really struggled with how to maintain a healthy balance. I'm not going to lie, I love to workout and I miss it terribly! Of all of the things that I gave up when Rocco was born, this is the biggie. This is the one that actually bothers me all the time. So much of who I am is tied up in exercise, fitness, and health. It's part of what makes me, me. I like to move and be active and get my sweat on. I enjoy hard work and being productive. I love having muscles that are defined, not for others to see, but for myself to see. I like to know that I am capable. I love pushing myself into the next minute, the next mile, the next rep, or to a heavier weight. And all of that was thrown away when he was born because I simply couldn't find the time. I believe that parents have to take care of themselves, physically and mentally, so they can be the best parent they can be. For me, getting my sweat on is what renews my mind and my body. 

So, here's the new world order: I am getting in 20-35 minutes of exercise each day, but it's at 9 o'clock at night. I can't find the time earlier in the day, so I'll take what I can get and this is the only way for me to make the time. And it's working! I've already lost 3 of the 4 pounds I gained over the holidays. Don't judge me, man. There was a lot of chocolate involved. However, all of the chocolate is now gone and I'm eating better. I may not be getting in a one-hour sweat session like I used to, but at least I'm doing "something" and that makes me feel better!

I don't have a name for this post

So, a few months ago I told you that I had set up our Total Gym that I bought used last spring. Here's the rub - we didn't have any instructions or exercise charts or videos to tell us how to do all of the different exercises. So, I've been using my fitness knowledge (from 10 years of being a fitness instructor) to creatively use the machine. 

Until I got tired of doing that and decided to just order some videos and an exercise chart. I only have so much creativity in my brain and right now all it can think about is new living room furniture, painting, and revamping my utility room. Thank you HGTV and DIY Network. 

Last week I ordered 6 of the workout videos and an exercise chart and I was so excited that I paid for overnight shipping so I could get started right away. On Thursday I did day 1 of the women's 6-day 6-8 minute plan, followed by 15 minutes on the treadmill, squats, lunges, push-ups, and stretching. In 35 minutes I burned about 350 calories and I was ecstatic because that burned off at least one of the chocolate bars I'd had for breakfast. Don't judge. 

On Friday I got ready to do day 2 of the 6-day plan and I realized that there were a couple of pieces missing. Boo! That's what I get for buying used. I modified the exercises and got through the day's workout, then went about buying some replacement parts.

In total, I have spent about $275 for everything, which is waaaaay cheaper than retail. On the Total Gym website some of the models are as much as $2200! My model works just as well and I spent a fraction of the cost!

And I might have a slight addiction to the machine and all of the newfound exercises I can do on it. The video really got me feeling motivated and I didn't get bored, which is a problem I have with a lot of exercise videos. Doing the short video and mixing in my treadmill (cardio), squats, lunges, and push-ups is much more my style. I generally will watch a video, take the moves that I like and combine them with moves from another video and make my own workout. Or I cut out workouts from magazines and combine the parts I like. Plus, I rarely like the music on videos, I like my own. Over the years I have found that I like the strength training videos, but the cardio videos, um, not so much. (Sorry, Patrick Goudeau! I loved your class at Dallas Mania, though! Super fun, high energy, and easy to follow. I just don't like doing the videos at home.) I prefer to do my own cardio floor/step/BOSU routines or run on the treadmill and have my own music. Does that make me a fitness snob? Man, you really learn a lot about yourself when you blog. Grammar snob. Fitness snob. What other uglies are hiding inside?

On that note, I think I'll stop. But, before I go, I have one more random confession - getting to meet all of the fitness stars that we all see on our favorite workout videos and ask them questions, pick their brains, and just interact with them was one of the most fun experiences I've ever had! I loved meeting all of them at fitness conventions, learning from them, and I really miss teaching. And, I need some more fitness-minded friends to move near me so that I have people to workout with. I miss the group dynamic!

Okie Black Eyed Pea Dip

Okay, let's be honest, who likes black eyed peas? Not the singing group, but the nasty canned food? If anyone raises their hand, we will all know you're a liar. They taste and smell like dirt! How could they ever be eaten plain? Blech! Gag! Spit! Hurl!

Enough of that. Moving on. 

Every New Year's Day we eat black eyed peas because we're on the bandwagon with about half a bazillion other people who all superstitiously believe it will bring them good luck in the coming year. I know that everyone else does this, too, because when I went to buy BEP's, the shelves were empty. I don't believe in luck, I just eat them because my Mom always made me and now it's just a New Year's Day habit. Normally, we doctor them up with bacon or some leftover ham hocks and lots of spices and hot stuff to drown out the awfulness that is BEP's. I decided to try something different this year. On Christmas Day I was brave and made two breakfast/brunch dishes that I'd never made before and they turned out alright, so I did the same with the BEP's. I saw this recipe on Facebook, I don't remember where, and thought it would be a good alternative. Plus, it was super simple!

Okie Black Eyed Pea Dip

1-14oz can black eyed peas, drained and partially mashed

1/4 whole onion, finely chopped

1/4 C sour cream

8 slices jarred jalapeño slices

1 C grated cheddar cheese

3 T salsa

Hot sauce, to taste

Salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat the oven to 350. In a bowl, combine all of the ingredients and stir well. Spread the mixture into a 1 1/2 quart baking dish, then bake for 20-30 minutes until bubbly. Serve with chips. 

Even though it didn't say to, I sprayed the pan with cooking spray before spreading the mixture. I think some Lawry's season salt would have been good in it, too. But, then again, I'm addicted to salt. I also rinsed the BEP's, just to make sure there wasn't any residual nastiness in them. I have issues. Sorry. 

You'll have something like this:

Here's a close-up:

It was really good and it didn't taste or smell like dirt! Winning!

Tough love, night #1

Night #1 of tough love bedtime was a success. 

At Rocco's 6 month checkup they said to start laying him down at bedtime when he wasn't asleep but was sleepy, so that he would start learning to go to bed. But, I haven't been able to make myself do it. He's my baby and I want to love him and hug him and kiss him and snuggle him. Lay him down and them have to hear him cry those terribly sad sobs? I didnt think I could do that. Until now.

We got home about 9:00 last night and he was super tired, he had fallen asleep the last 4 miles home, but once we got home, he just wouldn't go back to sleep. He drank a 6oz bottle and then just fought me, so I let him play for a while, thinking he'd wear himself out. 

He never did. 

Cranky? Yes. Sleepy? Yes. Going to sleep? Absolutely not. 

By 10:30 this Mommy was ready for him to go night-night! He drank another 2oz bottle and was almost asleep, but just wouldn't give it up. I knew that it was time to do something different, even though I didn't want to. I laid him down and tried to pat him to sleep (you know patting his butt and back until he goes to sleep), and after 10 minutes of that not working, I walked away. That's right, this old mama bear just walked away. I can hardly believe it, myself. 

The next 15 minutes felt like an eternity! I told myself that if I can stand listening to him scream all the way home from Stillwater, I could take this, too. I gave myself a 30 minute time limit, thinking that if he hadn't cried himself to sleep by then, I'd go rescue him and snuggle his cute little self. I could tell he was close to sleep, just by the sound of his cries. And then, he was asleep! 

I went to check on him and he was on his hands and knees with his face on his stuffed lamb, using it like a pillow. It just about broke my heart. I repositioned him and covered him up, told him I loved him and went to bed. 

I'm praying for more success and less torture in this area.