Revelations and the Missing Punchline

Now that we've recovered from the Disney trip and we are trying to adjust to summer break, (it's a blessing/ it sucks!) I wanted to post a short Disney recap for posterity.

This is us, plus my nephew Cole. And yes we are that family. If you come on vacay with us, you WILL wear a matching shirt. I only do it at Disney and while part of it is for safety reasons, I just like to do it. And I know secretly that the hubs and kids get just as much joy from it as I do. Right Jon?

This trip was full of revelations. The most important being Jack hates Disney world. Hates it. There are three things that he likes: swimming, animals, and the one playground that has a rope maze at MGM Studios. Yes I know the name has been changed to Hollywood Studios but I am a woman of nostalgia and tradition. In the past, he is content riding in the stroller and we could occasionally talk him onto a ride, although we always regretted it after. This time, there was no riding. There was no being content in a stroller. And the second time we pulled up to the Magic Kingdom and he screamed "please don't make me go in there again" I realized that our family trips, if there were to be any future ones, were going to be different. Jack did find moments of peace and happiness. Doing this:

Sitting on the balcony, with his iPad, looking for animals. So that's what we let him do. The $400 park ticket be damned.

The second revelation: George loves it. Absolutely loves it. He loves to ride, loves to be in the parks, and loves everything else that most nuerotypical children like to do. And I realized this was the first experience we've had like that. My parents watched Jack and Charlie for us one night and Jon and I took George to the parks late and did what I remember doing with my parents as a young kid; riding as many rides possible and having a blast and not having fear about a meltdown or over-stimulation or coaxing him out of a stroller into a line only to have to leave the line right before we get on the ride. And I realized that I spend the majority of my vacation in fear. Fear for Jack's comfort. And it sucks. Bad. That being said, it makes his good time even bigger and better and I'm more grateful for it. And it made our time with George so much sweeter. We were able to appreciate it more and see it as blessing and a precious memory to be made with just George. The days leading up to that night, I had decided that there would be no more trips for us to Disney world. I felt terribly guilty for taking Jack back to a place that was so traumatic for him purely out of my desire to hold on to my family's past with Disney. But that night I realized that we can compromise, just like we do at home, in our everyday lives. We find a balance with Jack and George and now, somehow, with Charlie. We will plan ahead more, divide our time more between parks and room and children. And we can create and enjoy these different moments of bliss with each child. And I'm excited. And grateful, still, for our times at Disney. And it still is and always will be, my happy place. 

Third revelation: For the first time ever after a Disney trip, thanks to Crossfit, I wasn't sore. And when I say I had a 6 month old strapped to my bosom? I mean I had a 6 month old strapped to my bosom from 8 am to around 9 or 10 pm with very few breaks in between. And I didn't need to crash for 2 days after. My back and legs weren't sore and I absolutely attribute that to being stronger through Crossfit. So that was cool. Even though I didn't run. And FYI, the punchline to my last blog post was going to be me in a selfie of me running at Disney. But alas it didn't happen and some of you got your panties in a wad because I hit a nerve. Relax! Take your selfies and be proud!

Where we are currently: I'm starting the 6 month training plan for the Galloway method. We are starting it June 1st for 2 reasons. After much deliberation, I've concluded that the Galloway method will be best suited for me. Secondly, I'll be taking a month off come July 19th because the boobs are coming off!!! To say that I'm excited would be an understatement that rivals that of Justin Bieber needing pec implants. We have a few races on the calendar but, I know me. I need structure and a calendar telling me when to run and how far. And I'm signing up for another month of Crossfit bootcamp with the women. I'm still intimidated by the muscle walking around that Crossfit place. But I'll work up to it. Eventually. Especially when I drop ten pounds of boobage. I'll be a beast! A beast I tell you!

PS I took a selfie of me at the plastic surgeon's office in that cute pink robe. But, but, it just felt too ridiculous to post. I'll work on it. In the mean time, let your freak flags fly people.

Quote of the Day: "We're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all." - John Hughes

Song of the Day: "Freak Flag" - Shrek the Musical  



The train to Funkytown

Saturday May 18 @ 2:55. Coming to you live from Walt Disney World. The kids are napping and I finally have a moment to catch you up on the blog, the race, the life and to have a very large cocktail.

First up, the Gumtree 10k. The sister and I had a successful race, finishing at a respectable 1:15. Well I thought it was respectable and if you don't, well then, you're missing the point. We had a good, easy run. We laughed and talked about people, life, and the rising, perplexing fad of selfies. I'm not against it, I just don't get it. And I'm clearly in the minority by not being a fan. But It's no skin off my back though if you want to take a pic of yourself at an unflattering angle and post it to your social media, or heaven forbid while you're driving a 200 pound piece of machinery down a highway or even worse, in a bathroom mirror after you've just finished doing God knows what in that bathroom stall. But tomato, tomahto. We made some plans for future races and luckily or unluckily, didn't have to ask the cute cops for a ride home. Best moment of the day came when I got to place her medal around her neck. Her first 10k medal. We both cried- her because I think she was proud of herself, and me because I was super proud of her and for her and I remember how it felt to get that first medal; to do the thing you thought you couldn't do and get that reward and proof of accomplishment. It's an amazing feeling and I was so proud that she was able to experience it. I also cried because I realized that the only thing that could make running better for me, besides small boobs, is to do it with Sarah. And she's hooked! Which would be the best thing to ever happen for me and my motivation to run local races. And I think I talked her in to doing a half with me in New Orleans in the fall. Solidified by my loving husband's mothers day present to us both- to pay for it :) Did I mention I've never been to New Orleans? He might need to throw in a chaperone for that trip as well. Or at the very least a limited daily bar allowance.

Second topic: my mental state. Look, I haven't updated as frequently because honestly, I'm in a funk. A depressive, chop all my hair off and eat a Chinese buffet everyday funk. And I feel dishonest if I get on here and try to motivate or preach positivity when all I want to do is complain and try to sort thru my stuff while eating a box of Girl Scout cookies. And trust me when I say you don't want me to blog about it. But a big blessing came in a small package by way of a long lost friend, Kayla Steward Halls. Friends in middle and high school- I haven't seen her in probably 15 years. She found the blog and thankfully, wrote me on the FB. She reminded me that it happens to everybody. And eventually, "that funk train moves out." (Or in my case, that bitch of a thing Aunt Martha finally makes an appearance and your emotions eventually equalize.) So if I disappear for a while, just know I'm sorting it out, trying to keep myself away from the hair sheers and cookie aisle and saving my husband the embarrassment of publishing what really goes on in my brain every three weeks.

Lastly, I'm at Disney! My favorite place. It's our second day and already we have established that we will no longer force Jack to go to the Magic Kingdom, like, ever again, and we will for sure force George to take a nap, like everyday, to ensure that I don't send him to Disney day care. Good news is they love the pool and my motto still stands: a bad day at Disney is better than a good day at home. (Agree to disagree)

PS The three of you that read the 1st installment of this blog might remember the entry about me planning on doing the thing I make fun of people about doing but secretly wish I did, which is going for a run on vacation at Disney world. I mean, you're walking 2-3 miles a day. I'm doing it with a 5 month old strapped to my bosom. I'm burning calories. Why the H would I need to go for a run?
Answer: because that's what runners do. So I packed my shoes and run clothes. And going into day 3 of vacay, they are still, in fact, in the very same spot I packed them in. So that's my goal- just go for a run while I'm here. I can just imagine how proud I would be over something so insignificant. I'm gonna do it! Yeah, I wouldn't hold your breath.

PSS It is now Wednesday. I've returned home. I've unpacked. And my shoes and running clothes were, in fact, in the same spot I packed them in. So, middle finger up to that goal.

Quote of the day:
"The only way to get started is to stop talking and start doing." -Walt Disney

"The difference between a woman on her period and a terrorist is you can negotiate with a terrorist."- a wise but unknown source

Song of the day: "Funkytown" by Lipps Inc.




Sent from my iPad

My Girly Parts

Have you heard the new Bruno Mars song? "When I was Your Man"- I love it. It speaks to my girly parts. I'm speaking of course of my heart (get your mind out of the gutter). I love the tune and the melody, but the lyrics speak to me on an intimate level. Not because I have an ex out there who I secretly hope feels this way. Ok yeah I do, but the reason I love it is because it speaks to that part of me that hopes to have no regrets in the future. I have many regrets about my past. Some people say, "I have no regrets, you just learn from your mistakes." Quite frankly, I think they're full of shat. I don't want to look at my past failures or bad decisions fondly and turn them into a lovely blemish on the face of reality. They were and still are, a pain in my ass. But a pain that I welcome because it reminds me of where I've been and where I'm going and how to get there without ending up in therapy or rehab or jail or the doghouse. While I'm thankful and happy about where my life has led me in the present day, there are many things that I wish I had done differently. Things I wish I had done and not done at all.

I'm a vibrant, young 35. And by God I don't want to be 45 and think, 'man I really wish I would have gotten in shape when I was 35. Man, I really wish I wasn't still wearing maternity pants even though my youngest is 10. Man, I wish I could have kicked that donut and Mountain Dew habit.' And because I think about this daily, because I constantly tell myself that I don't want to be 45 or even 35 and a half and wish I had been able to do it, that today, May 10, I've been doing it for a month and a half. I'm in shape...err better shape, no maternity pants, and my lips haven't experienced the sweet ecstasy of a Shipley's anything in more than 2 menstrual cycles. I'm down 15 pounds, I'm planking without falling, and I've successfully trained for the gum tree without a doubt that I'll finish and finish strong. Tomorrow will be the first race that I wasn't scared of not finishing, and that feels freakin awesome. The only thing left to fear is the heat, the weather, and turning down drinks that are not water from my many peeps that will be lounging in their front yards on the course.

This race is kind of a big deal for me. It's only the second time I've run it. The first was 2010. I was depressed, overweight, and just lost. We were in the middle of dealing with Jack's many a diagnoses and George was 6 months old and I struggled with enjoying his time as a baby and analyzing his every move: how was his eye contact? his mobility? his facial expressions? It was a bittersweet time and I resented the fact that I couldn't fully enjoy the act of raising a newborn due to my fear and expectations of a disorder that I was just learning about. So when May rolled around, I decided one morning, on a whim, to register for the Gumtree. I hadn't been walking, much less running. But I needed to do something. Something to snap myself out of the black hole that I was inhabiting. I made the decision to do it pushing both the boys in the double stroller- for 2 reasons: to use them as my motivation and inspiration, and in the hopes that people would say "aww, look at her pushing her boys, it's ok that she came in last." (I didn't actually come in last. There were some sweet old ladies who had survived cancer together who walked across that finish line with me). But that day set forth in motion the long, sweet and sucky journey that led me to running half-marathons and blogging about the mess that is my life. So tomorrow will be a culmination of the last three years. I won't be afraid of not finishing. (I hope) I won't be afraid of running in the daylight where people can see me. I hope the cute cops on McCollough will cheer me on for that last mile. And to top it all off, I get to do it with my sister. My best friend. My mule.

SO when you hear that Bruno Mars song, think to yourself, "I'm gonna do all the things I should have done- in life". Screw the man. I bet he didn't give flowers or hold the hand of the next girlfriend either, dumbass. That's why you're the ex.

Quote of the Day: "A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams."- John Barrymore

Song of the Day: "Hurt" - Johnny Cash