Lost and Found

Have you ever felt lost then found? (Now I sound like Katy Perry, don't I?) Throughout life, I think we grapple with how to feel "found." Some people achieve this by looking to a higher being: God, Buddha, Mohammed.  Some people find themselves by realizing what it takes to be happy: for me, that's writing.

When I was little, I had this pink and blue blanket. I've been told it wasn't my first blanket, that I had a white whale blanket that was lost, and then it was replaced with this pink and blue blanket that had been given to me at birth by my awesome grandparents, Gigi and Gipop.  (Who knows how much of this is true: my Mom and Dad could tell you).  I carried this pink and blue blanket everywhere. There's something about my family: we're all attachment oriented. My kids have their blankies too, and they won't sleep without them.

Well, I was one of those privileged kids. My parents had a housekeeper.  We went through several housekeepers, some that I loved and some that I didn't. We had one who stole $100 out of the freezer (why was it in the freezer in the first place?), one that drank out of my parents' alcohol bottles and refilled it with water, but we also had one that would talk to me, watch Little House on the Prairie with me, and who I still think of fondly to this day. But on this particular day, we had a new housekeeper. I tucked my blanket underneath my pillow, and I went to school for the day: sixth grade.  I came home that evening, and when I went to my room I noticed my bed had been made. I never made my bed. I figured the new housekeeper must have done the sheets and re-made the beds, so I began looking for my blanket, and it was nowhere to be found. The pit of anxiety welled up in my stomach, as I marched downstairs to my mom.

"Where is my blanket?"

"Oh, Lauren, it must be in your bed."

"It's not there, Mom."

"Well maybe she threw it away, thought it was a rag."

"How could she think it was a rag. It's my baby blanket!"

"It is rather holey."

So I went dumpster diving, and guess what? The maid had thrown it in the trashcan, but luckily the trash wasn't to be picked up until the next day. It went through the washing machine twice, and my mom told the new housekeeper that the blanket was special and not to be thrown out.

The blanket still lives in the top of my closet, well-loved.

It's funny how we find attachment in objects, security needed so we can make that next step: be it leaving our mothers as kindergartners or writing our first novel.  Before the blanket, I used to carry around one of my mom's satin slips, because it felt like her and smelled like her.  She replaced it with the blanket, because carrying around her slip could have been considered inappropriate.

When I lost that blanket, and thought it was gone forever, I felt so lost and insecure.  I used the blanket when I was sad, anxious, feeling bad, and it helped me get through those moments.  In writing, I have used so many things like a baby blanket to get me through too.  And there's no problem with that.  I've found writer's groups, and I've depended on them, stroking them for information, having them help promote my upcoming book, and creating a network for asking questions.  We all have crutches, and for a long time I used my insecurity as a hindrance, until I realized I needed to replace my baby blanket with something real and tangible that could help me get past the insecurity I felt.  Because let me tell you: everyone feels insecure, everyone is afraid of criticism: it's getting past those fears that allows you to be successful.

The thing is there are always going to be people who don't like your book.  There are also going to be people who love it. And I'm betting every published book has a typo. I know I've found them when I wasn't even looking.  We are all human, and therefore we will always make mistakes.

So grab a hold of your baby blanket, and find what you love to do. Don't be afraid.  Find security in the little things to help you move forward.


Guess what I did yesterday? An interview on Bookreader Magazine. You can check it out here: http://bookreadermagazine.com/featured-author-lauren-greene/

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Darling Daughter Turns 4!!!

Today is Little Bit/Shoo Shoo/Darling Daughter's birthday.  She is four.  I can't believe how fast time has gone by.  I feel like only yesterday, I was holding her sweet newborn body in my arms.  I stared down at the lump of baby in my arms and looked into her blue eyes, and I could not for the life of me believe she was a girl! 

When I found out I was pregnant with Darling Daughter, I had mixed emotions.  Three children seemed like an awful lot.  I finally got used to the idea though.  On the day of my ultrasound, my Mom and Hubby met me at the doctor's office.  We had to wait and wait, because they were super busy. 

Mom said, "Now, Lauren--I don't want you to get upset if it's another boy.  Do you have any boy names picked out?"

"I know, Mom," I said.  "I'm fully expecting it to be another boy."

We were ushered into the back, cool little room.  The ultrasound tech went through measuring all the bones: the skull, the femur, etc. 

"Do you want to know what it is?" she asked.

We nodded, and she looked. She slowly but deliberately typed out: IT'S A GIRL across the screen!

My Mom and I both started crying and hugging each other.  I love my boys, but there's nothing like having a daughter.  My Mom and I are so close to one another, and I wanted a daughter I could share that bond with.  It was like a dream coming true. 

Darling Daughter was born on May 21st at 12:15 PM.  She was a content little thing, and so sweet!

 

 

Babies are like little lumps who can't do anything.  Your goal in life is to shape them and help them make the right decisions: give them the tools they need to succeed.  When I held Darling Daughter in my arms, I could see how sweet and special she was.  (So could everyone else, and that's why her nickname now is Spoiled Rotten!!!)  It was so funny putting dresses on her at first, and it seriously took me a month to get used to dressing her in girly clothes.  I'm all for gender equality, but after having two boys, I wanted dresses, frills, pink and bows. 

 

 

 

Darling Daughter has grown so quickly.  From her 1st birthday where she cried and only perked up when she saw the cake and opened a few of her presents. 

 

After that birthday, she developed an intense stranger anxiety.  The only people she was not afraid of were me, Big Mommy and Big Daddy.  She didn't even want to be around Hubby.  I can tell you--there were many days when I had trouble with this cling on. She would hold me, as if I was going to walk out the door forever.  We did Baby Gym, and she could not stand it when Coach Ken would get to close to her.  After three months of screaming through it--I decided we would just wait.  Stranger anxiety had to end at some point, right?

 

 

 

And it did.  By about 2.5, she was everyone's best friend.  We switched daycares, and I saw her become another person. She opened up.  She was bright and bubbly.  She also got the tubes she badly needed, and the quiet child I once had became an incessant talker (just like her Mommy). 

 

 

 

And now year three has come and gone in a flash.  This year Darling Daughter became so independent.  She loves her babies, and she often creates elaborate stories with them.  She uses her imagination all the time, and she walks around the house belting out songs.  She acts like a little Mommy to the boys (who despise it)!  She also likes to put on my high heels and say, "Now I'm the Mom."  She is stubborn, and if she ask for something and you say no, she'll keep asking hundred times until, exasperated, you have to walk away!  She loves princesses.  She loves Frozen.  She sings, "Let it Go," about a million times a day--almost as many times as we've watched the movie!  She can also keep up with the boys!  You'll often find her pedaling the spin bike right behind her brothers, flip flops on, and dress blowing in the wind!  How I love this sweet FOUR year old girl! 

 

Forever and always, my baby. 

 

 





 



Number Two Turns Six!

Number Two's 6th birthday is tomorrow.  I sometimes wonder how six years went so fast.  I like to commemorate my children on this blog when their birthdays roll around each year.  Number Two is so sweet and funny.  He's generous, helpful and super imaginative.  He's my easiest, most laid back child, who has a booming loud voice when he wants to.  I often have to say, "A little bit quieter!" 

Yesterday, I was able to go on Number Two's Easter Egg hunt with school.  The children were told they could find 12 eggs.  They knew there were enough eggs for 12 each.  All the kids went in one direction, and Number Two went in the other direction.  He found almost all the eggs on top of the shrubs and on the bottom and mixed in, and pretty soon his basket was filled with about 30 eggs! 

 

 

Most of the kids found 12 eggs, but one of the teachers was doing a basket for a child who was out sick.  She said she only had 9.  Number Two promptly counted out three of his eggs, without even asking to give to the sick child.  He then walked around and looked in other children's baskets, and if they had a lot less than him he gave them out.  What a sweet, generous boy I have. 

 

 

Before Number Two was born, I was convinced he was going to have brown hair and brown eyes like me.  But, when he was born he had a sheen a fine blonde hair. The nurses used to sneak into my room just to rub his head.  He had chubby cheeks, and he looked like a little baby elf.  He was so quiet.  From day one, he slept well.  Out of all my children, he's the only one who has ALWAYS slept in his own bed.  He needs his rest, and he makes sure he receives it. 

 

 

 

Being a parent is the most amazing thing.  Sure, some days are hard with whiny kids, talking back, not going to sleep, but it's truly amazing to bring a baby into the world and watch as they turn into a fully functioning kid.  It's awesome to see how their personality develops.  To watch them develop strengths like Number Two has: kindness, imagination, mathematically-inclined, friendly, sweet, and grateful.

 

 

 

When Number Two was born, and the nurse placed him on my belly I cried.  I looked into his sweet face, and I saw all the possibilities of what he would become as he grew from a baby, to a toddler, to a boy and then to a man. 

 

 

 

 

I love you, my sweet white-headed boy, and I couldn't imagine my life without you!

 



Harmony

I was watching House of Cards with Hubby last night.  I'm on Season 1, Episode 8, so please no spoilers if you're further than me.  The writing on this show is magnificent.  Frank Underwood aka Francis, is such an ass, but he's a likeable ass.  Who knows why?  Maybe because you always know where you stand with him, and he has that incredible smile even when he's plunging the knife into your back. 

This blog isn't really a review about House of Cards though.  This blog is more about one line Frank Underwood says in that particular episode that really stuck with me, and I bet it hit home to a lot of people.  At the dedication of the library, Frank is talking about harmony and he says, "It is about individual voices coming together for a moment. And that moment lasts the length of a breath."  He's using the quote in reference to his time at the Sentinel, known in real life as the Citadel, and about how people come in and out of your life. 

Harmony.  Coming together for a specific purpose and then moving on. I think about this, because so much of my time is spent thinking about the past.  I try to be a goal oriented person.  I plan ahead, and I look to the future often.  I have pangs about the past: lost loves, lost friends, or almost a craving for the way things were when things were at their best, or maybe when I was having the most fun, or maybe when my feelings of love and life were so heightened I felt on top of the world. 

In Episode 8 of House of Cards, the look on Frank's face as his friend (possible lover) walked away from him showed that Frank struggled with the feelings of loss and difficulty of letting go.  Why is it so difficult to let go?  Each relationship or friendship lost is almost like a mini-death and takes a grieving process in order for an individual to move on.  The feelings regarding that particular person or that particular event in your life are still imprinted in your memory and recalling them can be a sweet but painful nostalgia, almost like you're reliving the loss every time you think about.

How wistful to think: it's for a moment, and then it's gone, and then you move on.  Some people work this way, repressing painful thoughts and memories, and even repressing the good thoughts and memories because sometimes recalling them reminds you of how different you feel today.  You look back on your past sometimes and think, "Oh if I could only do that again then I'd be happy."  Let's face it, living life is hard, and sometimes we all wish we could back to the easier times.

This weekend I went out with a young friend of mine who is about to graduate from high school.  She was talking about college and said, "Well I'm going to have a lot of free time."  And my heart was suddenly jealous that she gets to swing through those carefree days of making friends, about being idealistic about the future, looking for a job and soaking up knowledge like a sponge while I'm stuck washing dishes and forcing kids to do homework.  My heart wanted to go back to that moment in time, but that's all it was: a moment.  A moment that taught me a lot about myself, about my capability to learn, and about who'd I be in the future. 

I think living life is so much about being in the present moment and not being stuck in the past and not looking too much into the future.  I think for the greatest chance of happiness you must look at your past mistakes, you must think about your past loves with fondness, but then you need to move on from there.  I'm still learning how to do this.  And one of my favorite quotes of all time reminds me, "Hindsight is like foresight without a future."  Nothing comes from wishing that something that WASN'T IS, or that something that WAS still IS, except a special kind of pain.

Remember the individual voices with fondness.  Think about today, be happy about yesterday, and walk in the present.

 

Update: Since It's Been an Eternity

I did 2 miles today.  On my way to meet my challenge for the week.  One of my biggest complaints is I'm so slow.  I complained to my sister yesterday about that, via text, and she said don't worry about the speed, worry about the mileage.  Speed will come if you run more.

She's right.  Today I did an 11.23 minute mile and then a 10.21 minute mile.  The whole time I was complaining to myself.  Does anyone else do this while they exercise?  I swear, everyone in the world tells me I'm too positive, but when I exercise I am negative to myself!  I tell myself, "This is stupid. Why am I running?  I hate running!  I hate exercise."  Maybe it's getting past that negativity that gives you the runner's high?  Who knows!

I felt good when I finished today, and I know I'm going to put myself out there tomorrow...and.every.other.day.this.week!

In other news, Darling Daughter and I are going to see Disney Live on Thursday night.  I can't wait to have a date with this little cutie:

Not the big guy on the right.  That's her Uncle who recently came to visit.  Darling Daughter is so funny lately.  She tells me about a hundred times a day, "Mommy, I love you.  Mommy, you're my best friend!"  Melt my heart!  She still has short hair, and when anyone comments on it she says, "Don't worry--it'll grow!"  I guess she's heard me say that about a million times.  She is still in love with flip flops.  They are her favorite.  I bought her new ones last week, and we were walking out at Eastchase, and every person she would see, she would say, "Don't you love my flip flops?"  There's not a shy bone in her!

Number Two is doing fairly well too.  He is loving soccer this season.  He was just in an off Broadway production of Bugz, where he played the star roll of Firefly.  He had four lines, which he recited dutifully, but without a smile.  He looked like he might throw up from nerves for most of the play!  He continues to listen and be the most help out of all the kids.  He's always willing to help out, and he is usually our most laid back child, but boy, can he throw some fits!  He has a loud streak in him, and he will scream and shout, sometimes when he's just trying to talk to you.

 

 



And last, but not least, is my biggest one of all: Number One.  Number One will celebrate his double digit birthday this year: how time flies!  He came in 3rd all around at the Alabama Men's State Gymnastic Meet. His team came in first.  He continues to excel at school.  He is a daredevil, and he's always getting hurt.  He recently ran into a parked car on his bike, and he had a black eye for about two weeks.  He can be so sweet to his sister, Darling Daughter, and he can be so sweet to us but he also suffers from the Mommy Temper (same temper I used to have!).  Overall, he's doing so well and I'm so proud of him.  He shows me every day how disciplined and motivated he is, and he is an inspiration to me. 

Enjoy the Moment

I woke up this morning with serious intentions of writing.  Last night, Darling Daughter crept into our bed.  Despite complaints, I love to feel her warm baby-arms reach around me and hug me.  I love to feel her breath on me, when she's not hacking up a lung.  Last night, she slept soundly and so did I.  But when I tried to "creep" out of the bed at 5:30 she awoke crying. 

I read last night, perfectly timely this blog.  Wow. I cried, and I related, and I realized how much our world is stuck to our phones, our electronics, and how much we push each other away because we're too distracted with our own little lives.  So this morning, I decided instead of reacting with anger I'd react with love.  I wrapped my arms around her, and I squeezed her.  I told her I loved her.  She asked to watch a movie, and I let her.  She gave me my space, because I gave her a little bit of love and comforting and that was all she needed.  If I had blown up on her or yelled, "Go back to bed," as I've done so many mornings she would have started crying and probably tantruming and both of us would have been unhappy!

It's hard to be mad at this sweet face anyway:

 

 

This is the second blog I've read in a matter of weeks about letting go.  We all live distracted, busy lives, and sometimes we forget the people who are most important: our family and friends.  Make time today to tell someone how much you care about them.  Make time to put down your phone, look your child in the eye, and say, "I love you." Spend one on one time with the people who matter most without the technological distraction.  They will appreciate it, and they'll remember you were there for them. 

 

In the end, human connection is what it's all really about.  No one is going to remember you had the latest electronic.  Our phones will die and when that happens will you be able to look back at your memories and see how much time you spent with your children?  Or will you look back and think about how much you missed, because you over-scheduled yourself, or you were just too addicted to that little piece of technology in your hand.  A phone doesn't need love and nurturing to grow, but kids, family and friendships do. 

 

 

Enjoy the Moment. 

 

 



Live Life and Laugh

I was bad yesterday.  My sister texted me around 8:30 PM and said, "Where's your food journal?"  I texted back, "I'd rather not list it." 

After five days at home with the kids by myself, the last thing in the world I wanted to do last night was make dinner.  It took me nearly an hour to pick up two of the kids and make it to my Mom's house where Number One was waiting.  Then, Number One wanted to bring a petrified lizard into the car, and so that was another battle.  There was no gas.  I needed to go to Costco.  I drove to Costco and then we went to Ixtapa.  I had already decided at 5:15, on the way to get Number Two I needed some cheese.  There's nothing better than comfort food. 

I'm thinking a chicken and cheese quesadilla probably has about 1,000 to 1,500 calories.  I ate the whole thing.  So, no, I didn't log it.  I'll do better today, even though I'm going out to eat for a friend's birthday lunch.  I'll have to make better choices.  Sometimes it's okay to splurge, and last night was one of those nights.

On the way home, the boys would not stop saying, "Stupid butt," and giggling like it was the funniest thing in the world.  I told them not to say, "Stupid butt," which just brought on more giggling.  They giggled themselves into bed, and they giggled and laughed and mimicked me while I read them their bedtime stories, and they giggled when I sang, "You Are My Sunshine," and when I got onto them for being loud.  Then Number Two started crying and Number One said he didn't want Number Two to sleep with him, and they fell asleep, chests rising, tears fresh on their eyelashes, exhausted from all that giggling. 

The giggling reminded me of a time when I was little and my Mom and I went down to Sebastian, Florida to visit her family. For some reason, I think it was just she and me, but my cousins were all there.  We were exhausted when we arrived, and we went into the basement and pulled out the foutons and lied down, and I couldn't stop thinking of funny things to say.

I said, "Goodnight John-boy!"

My Mom giggled, and I fell into a fit of laughter and she said, "We're slap happy from being so tired." 

And I curled up next to her and I went to sleep, exhausted from the thrill of just being alive.

Field Trip Fun

Yesterday, I chaperoned on Son Number One's field trip to Camp Chandler.  I hadn't been to Camp Chandler in a long time. I think the last time I went there was for the Indian Princess games with my dad when I was about seven.  His name was Sharp Knife.  I was Moon Glow.  I still have our totems. 

We drove up, dark clouds loomed in the sky threatening rain.  We parked on the big grassy knoll.  I remembered it.  I remembered the exact way it looked.  I remembered doing egg races there, and losing but being so excited to receive a ribbon that said, "I tried." 

The kids were excited.  They bounded off the bus, and we gathered around the flagpole.  Our group got to hit the canoes first.  Our tour guide decided, since we had such a small group, the kids could do paddle boats instead.  There's no risk of tipping or rocking the boat with paddle boats.  I was all for that.  They were safely secured into their life vest, and off they went.

After paddle boats, we hiked up a hill, the kids running far ahead of us and all the parents complaining about how out of shape they are, what diet they're on, and the man boasting about how his wife started a low carb diet that week and he somehow managed to lose 10 pounds.  I told him a man could decide NOT to look at a candy bar for a week and lose 10 pounds.  Men generally have it easier in the weight loss department.  He laughed.

We went onto Indian Games.  The tour guide here separated the kids into three groups: Creeks, Choctaws, and Seminoles, and she made them play Indian/Native American Games to see which one was the strongest.  They had to grab each other's arms and pull and try to pull each other across the bag. 

Wouldn't you know it?  Three girls won.  That's because girls are always stronger than boys, in so many ways.  Oh yeah, also there was an unfair advantage: the land they were standing on was sloped, so the person down hill always had an advantage.  Plus, girls have better lower body strength than boys.  Boys have the upper body strength.  But still: girls are better than boys.  At least that's what I took away from the 8 year olds!

Around this time we ran into Frank, the camp's mascot. 

The poor pig was assaulted by about 50 screaming, arm-flailing 8 year olds yesterday.  I do hope he's still alive.

After Indian Games, we had lunch.  Then we went to Archery.  Unfortunately, I didn't take any pictures at Archery, because I was too busy exhibiting my awesomeness.  They lined the kids up on the bench, and they each waited their turn to shoot the bows.  Number One had his turn, and he didn't want to shoot left handed so he went with his right (which probably handicapped him a little).  He had the strength, but he couldn't really aim at the target, so his arrows went far but not into the target.

I was just dying to get my hands on the bow.  I used to love archery as a kid.  I became quite skilled at it during summer camp, and later my Dad and Mom bought me a bow for Christmas.  I still have that bow, somewhere.  I may take it out again and go to the archery range, who knows?

After all the kids had their turn, I asked our guide if I could shoot and he said sure. 

My first shot went into the ring right around the bulls eye.  The kids thought I was unbelievable!!!

They started chanting, "Go Number One's Mom!  Go!!!"  I heard them tell Number One I was awesome, and I'll tell you what: there is nothing like being cheered on by a bunch of 7 and 8 year old kids to stroke your ego!

Last night, after we were home I went out, but Hubby said at bedtime Number One said, "Dad, Mom got all her arrows into the target.  It was awesome. She's such a bad ass!"  Ok--I don't condone the language, but to be called a bad ass by your 8 year old, well that's pretty bad ass!!!

Wayback Wednesday: Stranger Things Have Happened

When I was in college, I lived in a two story brick house with a finished basement with five other people.  The house was on Albemarle Street.  I loved Albemarle Street, even though I never once for the 2.5 years I lived there ever pronounced it right. 

I had my own room there, up the stairs and to the right, next to the computer room and next to Jandy's room--the resident pretend-like-we're-married couple at the age of 19.  They played Mom and Dad, while the rest of us all played wayward children and griped and complained about their "rules."  Home Sweet Home. 

Willie owned Albemarle Street--not the whole street, but just the house--I'm just not adding the number here in case some person in D.C. (long shot) reads this blog and decides to go see who lives there now.  Right when you went into the door on Albemarle Street there was a door to a left with a tiny, and I mean teeny tiny, guest bathroom.  This bathroom had no vent fan, and it got muggy and unusable, so Angie, who loved The Rolling Stones but hated the Beatles, called Willie and asked that he send a contractor over to install a vent fan.

The contractor came; skinny, bearded, tool belt hanging from his stick-like hips, and a dazed look in his eyes.  He spent a long time in the bathroom, cutting a whole in the ceiling, then said something about parts, and he left never to come back.

When I say never, I mean never.  About two months later, after many late night conversations with various guest about the hole, we finally get a call from the company.  This is how the call went.

"Doug was out there in February to install a vent fan in your bathroom?"

Angie says, "Yes.  He never came back.  What happened to him?"

"Oh.  He died of an overdose, and we're sorry we're just now rescheduling, but there were a lot of people on his list who were never contacted."

Just like that, so passé--so flippant.  Oh--he died of an overdose, as if this kind of thing happened every day to every single contractor you knew.  Angie hung up the phone and blurted it out to us, and we could barely stand it.  Crazier things have happened you know, like your roommate sticking your cats claws into the electric socket, and finding a friend who doesn't know how to ride a bike at the grand age of 21, and trying to teach her in your 9 x 11 backyard while you are all drunk...and there are about 20 other hippies standing around commenting on it.  Yes...stranger things have happened then the contractor ending up dead.

Like the time we went to Halloween at Art-o-matic.  I went as a goth girl, but really I was dressed as a slut.  We were waiting for friends to arrive, and we were already having a party, but Angie and Tiff and I decided to walk up Albemarle to the old Hechinger's, which they had turned into Art-o-matic (I wonder what's there now).  We walked around looking at the art, statues, murals, antiques--every single kind of art, and what some people describe as art that's not really art, was there. 

We left, me dressed as a slut, and I don't remember what Tiffany and Angie were dressed up as, or even if they were dressed up as anything, and we ran into Sideshow Bob and a Bear on the corner.  The Bear was tall, and I wanted to climb him.  And Angie, who doesn't know these people, sticks her tongue down Sideshow Bob's throat and then invites them back to our little soiree at our house.  By this time my other friends had arrived, and it was blatantly obvious that the Bear had little interest in Sluts, although I'm pretty sure Angie and Sideshow Bob were having a little show on the side down in the basement.  Again...memory could be deceiving me. 

I was an undergrad assistant for a Sociology professor, and the next day I had to describe to her why my hair was suddenly pink.  I put it in a ponytail, trying to hide the highlights, and still she discerned it as I was passing out papers to her Grad class and the lecture was about to end.

"Lauren, is your hair PINK?" 

Surprise, surprise.  Stranger things have happened, like your contractor dying of an overdose and the hole in your bathroom never being fixed, and just becoming a conversation piece for a "once upon a time" story.   

Whine or Wine or Wino Whining

I'm still downloading data.  I swear, this is taking forever.  I wish I had backed up every single thing on my computer WAY before it needed to be backed up.  I'm having trouble with the videos, and I don't want to lose the precious moments of Darling Daughter learning how to walk or cramming cake into her face, or Number One's school presentation, or Number Two talking to me about nothing at all in particular.  I need to find some disks and burn them, so they don't get lost.

I'm having a hard time with motivation this week.  I'm not sure why.  I had intentions of waking up early yesterday and going for a run.  I wanted to see how my leg felt, but I talked myself out of it.  Then, I thought, "Well, I'll just go at lunch," but Number Two was sick, so I didn't go.  I didn't go after sunset either.  I'll Taekwondo today, so that will be my exercise, and I guess I'll see how running goes on Sunday when I have more time to talk myself back into doing it. Lately, I've hated getting started and I think it's because I'm afraid of the pain. 

I did do something though. I got back on MyFitnessPal.  My weight crept up, slowly, while I traveled almost the whole month of February.  I knew it would: eating out is not good for weight loss and neither is drinking.  So, I logged back onto MyFitnessPal to try to take off the tenish pounds I've put on in the last month.  It's always easier to keep it off than to try to lose it again.  Logging back on made me realize: a) how much I really was overeating because the first day on there I was SO hungry and b) alcohol REALLY needs to be limited if you're trying to lose weight, unless you just want a liquid lunch, which sometimes, really, I'm not so opposed to!

So my goals for the upcoming week are:

• Attempt a run to see how it feels
• Log into MFP every day to track food
• Write and Revise (once the computer is fixed--this weekend hopefully)
• Finish reading Underworld, which shouldn't be a problem as I only have about 100 pages left.

Happy Valentine's Day!

There's nothing like the love of a child for his parents:

Random Rambles

There's this amazing thunderstorm going on right now.  All of the North is buried in 2-3 feet of snow, and we had mild weather this weekend.  We took the kids to ASF (Alabama Shakespeare Festival), and we ran around in tee-shirts. 

Yesterday evening the cold front came in and overnight the thunder was loud, theatrical almost in its booming.  I was surprised when I woke up, and we still had electricity.  I truly love underground power lines. 

I'm listening to Jamiroquai, and it's reminding me of the time that Phil and I went to see them at Luna Park in Buenos Aires, Argentina.  I didn't even know who Jamiroquai was then.  It's funny how you can listen to a song, and it can take you back to a moment, standing there dancing and loving the beat.  Thinking you'll be young forever: stuck in a moment. 

I have to work on finishing up the collages for the 2nd Grade Yearbook.  This is actually something I like to do, using my creativity to format it and making memories.  Plus, when you're doing the Yearbook, you get to make sure your child is well represented! One of the pluses!

This post is just a ramble.  I need to work on my novel, and I'm procrastinating.  I dreamt about my character last night.  There she was standing larger than life in my dreams, as if she really exists outside of my mind.  What a strange feeling, to create something, and then see it vividly. 

I told Hubby the other day that it's funny, because I create these whole little worlds in my head, then other people read it and they "see" it differently than I do.  Their imagination fills in the extraneous details that mine already did without the "telling."  That's one of the things I like about writing: sharing the creativity. 

Weight Loss Tips #14: Get Back on the Horse

I have bad luck with horses.  When I was about four or five years old, my family went to my Dad's nurses' house.  She had a lot of horses.  I wanted to ride one! Judy's husband Doug put me on a big horse, bare back, and the horse took off: bucking across the little ring they had put us in. 
 
I held onto the mane for dear life, and when Doug was able to stop the horse and pull me off I said, "Can I ride again?"   I did ride again, but the next time I was safely in a saddle with Doug sitting behind me.  My Dad used to tell this story to everyone, "Let me tell you about the time Lauren rode the bucking bronco and wanted to go again..." 

Then at 15, my Dad decided we all needed to take horseback riding lessons, because he was going to a Dude Ranch with some friends.  He signed us up, and we began taking lessons at some horse farm off of the Northern Bypass.  Things went swell at first, until one fateful day.  Dad and I were riding near each other, and I took my horse up towards Dad, sidling up too close. His horse apparently had a grudge against my horse, and the horse kicked me HARD.  My horse took off with me clinging tight, at a full gallop.  I held on, and I was eventually able to corral him back to the barn. 

Tears were streaming down my face as Mom and Dad helped me off the horse.  I couldn't place any weight on my right leg.  They took the boot off and my sock was completely drenched in blood.  I had a puncture wound on my right leg from where the horse kicked me.  Dad and Mom took me to the hospital, and Dad sewed me up.  Luckily the leg was not broken!  The scar is still there today.
 
And I even decided to go horseback riding after that happened!  I just waited awhile to face my fears again.
 
So what's the point of this blog, you may be asking yourself?  Persistence, facing your fears, and getting back up when you've fallen down.  These are all traits that can help you succeed in weight loss and any other endeavor you might wish to undertake in life. 
 


Bucking Bronco, Frederic Remington, 1908

If you are struggling to lose weight and you've had a bad week eating everything under the sun (kind of like my weekend in Panama City Beach), then just start over.  Throw that week away in your head, and get back on the horse, even if you're afraid, just do it.  You'll be happy you did, and you'll be healthier in the end. 
 
Most of the time the only person holding you back is yourself.  As a child, I could have been scared to death of horses, but I wasn't.  I faced my fears, I was persistent, and I always got back on.  This is what it takes to lose weight.  It takes looking one bad day or one bad week in the eyes and saying, "I'm going to start over.  I'm not going to let that destroy me. I'm not going to let my fear of change drive my health or my eating habits."  Positive self talk, and the ability to know that if you've failed once you can always try again. 
 
Many people eat out of fear, out of emotion, out of a desire to fill some void inside them.  Simply because eating is emotional, these people are afraid to face their demons and change their habits.  Change your habits, face your fears, get back on the horse.  You'll be happy you did it!

 See Last Week's Edition-->Right Here!

 

Weight Loss Tips #13: Scheduling and Consistency

I woke up today with the strangest memory.  I had this memory of going down to the Alabama River with my parents when I was a kid, sitting on the big steps and eating a huge Wendy's cheeseburger. (This is probably because my husband left Wendy's coupons in the kitchen for some unknown reason!)  My parents used to take the four of us down to the river on Sundays a lot.  It was one of the only times we would be allowed to have fast food and SODA!  We would picnic, watch the boats on the river, and then play on the long-since gone wooden playground near the Silos.  Some of my best memories are from those Sundays spent with my family. 

Of course the portion sizes back then, even at Wendy's, were smaller than they are today.  So my huge Wendy's cheeseburger was (maybe) an appropriate size for a seven or eight year old girl wearing turquoise overalls covered in butterflies.  Oh the 80's! 

Anyway--I'll get to the point of this blog, because apparently I just love to change subjects.  One of my co-workers yesterday said this to me, "I don't know how you do everything, Lauren."  That little statement got me thinking, because you know, I just love to spin the wheels in my brain. 

What does it take to lose weight?  It takes a REALISTIC schedule and CONSISTENCY!  I have a little bit of an obsessive compulsive personality, and when I started out I wanted to workout every single night.  I wanted to go to Taekwondo no matter what else was going on in my life.  This was not REALISTIC!!!  For one thing, I was missing out on my children's lives.  Another, I was not giving my body the time it needed to rest.

So, when you're starting a workout routine you need to ask yourself: How many days can I feasibly workout?  What times can I go?  When can I fit this into my schedule?  You need to do this and still make sure you have time for yourself, time for your spouse, time for your kids, and time to rest.  So, if the only times you have to work out are at 5 AM, then I suggest finding a morning Boot Camp, or finding a really good video that you know you'll stick to.  I, for one, really like a class because of the accountability factor, but classes are not for everyone and will not fit into everyone's lives as easy as they have into mine. 

And now for the big one: BE CONSISTENT!!!  Once you start eating well and exercising right make it a part of your life.  You know how they always say the key to disciplining a child is consistency.  Well the key to disciplining yourself is exactly the SAME.  Once you've committed to going to the gym three days a week: GO!  Stop making EXCUSES!!!  It will take weeks and weeks before you actually want to do it, so just drag yourself out of the house with the negative talk going in your head, until one day you just get in your car and drive there and realize this is now a part of your life. 

The same goes for eating well.  Yes, eating a big Wendy's burger every once in a while, will not derail you, but once you've changed the way you eat you need to try to stick with it.  Go to the grocery store and make the right food choices.  Read labels, and see if you're eating actual food or just STUFF with salt added.  Gravitate towards natural foods and try to eat whole foods more often.  Soon, you'll notice that instead of that candy bar for snack you'll want some carrots, a banana, or some nuts. 

 

If you missed last week's edition: HERE IT IS!

 

*Artwork found on Google

 

 



What does 2013 Hold?

I can hardly believe this year is over.  2012 was a trying year for me and my family.  We went through a lot of hard times, but a lot of good times too.  I think I've probably grown into myself more this year than any other year since college.  Losing my hair was a huge wake up call for me for some reason (some people might say that's post traumatic stress syndrome).  I've discovered what it takes for me to motivate myself though and to live my dreams, every day.  I don't feel lost the way I did at the beginning of last year. I feel happier, more well rounded, and healthier.  I feel like I'm a better person, a better mother, and maybe a better wife (on a good day). 

This year has been hard for some of my family members too, but all of us have had some pretty major accomplishments. 

Hubby pretty much started out the year by tearing is Achilles tendon.  He was recovering from this the rest of the year, until about September.  After a second surgery to treat Staph, he quit smoking.  QUIT SMOKING!!!  What a major accomplishment for him!  I am beyond proud of him, as this was something he's been struggling with since his teenage years.  He took my lead and began exercising and losing weight too.  We both looked at our demons, and we both started dealing with them...apart and now together. 

Son Number One finished up first grade and started second.  His grades continue to be in the all A range, and we were super proud that he made an A in conduct the first nine weeks!  How thrilling for him.  He also joined the gymnastics's team and attended his first meet, coming in third all around.  He has found his passion, and there is nothing better for a parent than seeing your child do something they love. 

Son Number Two started preschool, and I realized he has a brain...and he's smart!  He has always been my quiet child (except he has a very loud voice--I know so funny!), and I really did not know he knew as much as he did.  He can add!  He has made great friends in preschool, and he fits in well, as usual causing me no problems on that front.  I'm so proud of my little guy.  In other news, he finally moved on from Lightning McQueen to Ninjago.  He still likes Lightning, but he's not as obsessed with him as he used to be.

And Darling Daughter, my one and only girl.  She has grown from a one year old to a terrific two year old.  She is demanding, funny, sweet, and my little shadow. She follows me everywhere.  She loves to give kisses.  I love how when she wants my attention, she'll take her still-pudgy baby hands and move my face towards her and then make her eyes round orbits as she talks to me.  She is adorable and she's a handful!

What about me?  This year has been so up and down for me.  At times, I just wanted it to be over.  I wanted everything to change.  2012 has been about change for me and growing.  I think I finally discovered what it takes to make myself happy. I cried a lot this year, laughed a lot, wrote a lot, exercised a lot, and I began to accept myself for who I am.

I really came to terms with my hair loss this year.  I began experimenting with going out without wigs and hats. I do think I need a tee-shirt that says: I don't have Cancer, It's Alopecia, overall people have been really nice and just ask questions about why I'm bald.  I like the way I look bald, and besides being cold in the winter and having to wear more suntan lotion on my head it doesn't really bother me.  At some point, I'd love to give up my wigs all together, but I'm not sure if my work environment is ready for that quite yet!

I lost almost 60 pounds!!!  I turned my life around, completely changing my lifestyle and began setting a good example for my kids.  I exercise almost every day, and we eat a lot healthier and a lot less than we used to.  This was definitely one of my biggest accomplishments this year!

I really began to write again, and I realized that writing is a huge part of my life.  I hadn't been writing, almost since college, and something was missing.  As a writer, I have this need to put my ideas and stories on paper.  Since I've been writing every day, I feel like I have accomplished so much.  My goal next year is to finish my novel (over halfway done now) and to produce some short stories and try to get them published. 

I'm excited to see what next year holds!!! 

 Bring on 2013!!!!

Christmas at the Bass Pro Shop

You may be wondering where my Goal Post is this week.  I decided to take a little break until after New Year's.  I have too many time commitments to give my goals their due respect, and I don't want to set goals and write about them knowing that I don't have time because of Christmas parties, kids, wrapping...you name it!

Last weekend, we took the kids to see Santa at the Bass Pro Shop in Prattville.  We dressed them up in their Christmas finery and headed out for a long drive to the "North Pole."  Number One and Number Two both brought Diary of the Wimpy Kid books to read (Number One) and to look at (Number Two). 

When we reached the shop the line was so long. We placed ourselves in the back of the line, and Hubby and I took turns standing there or chasing the kids.  Bass Pro Shop did a great job at providing entertainment for the kids: games, coloring, letters to Santa, a train, and the 4-wheeler display!

 

 

Now I can't say I approve of the Alabama bow on their tree, but I'll forgive them for that!  The boys played nicely which I must say is a Christmas Miracle.  They are like Tom and Jerry these days, always at each other's throats. 

 

 

Darling Daughter snuck off to take a peak of Santa.  I'm almost sure she made it into some unsuspecting family's Santa photo.  She was thrilled and in awe of Santa and not one bit scared of him!

 



 

 

After waiting in line, for what seemed like forever, our time with Santa finally came up.  The kids ran up to him, and there was a slight scuffle between Number One and Number Two about who would sit where.  Number Two didn't want to be in the middle, because well, he's ALWAYS in the middle.  I placed Darling Daughter on Santa's lap.  She was uncertain but didn't cry.

 

And then, the Christmas Elves snapped this priceless photo, that I will remember for years to come:

 

 

And it will always make me laugh!





Time Marches On

Time Marches On

I'm having a hard time believing that we're ending 2012 so soon.  There are officially only 24 days left of this year.  At times, it has seemed to fly by, and at other times it has dragged on and on, but the last few months have passed so quickly it seems unreal. 

The thing about time is you can never stop it to hold onto what you have at that very moment.  Everything changes.  Last night, as I was driving home in the car I glanced back at my 4 year old son and my 8 year old son, and in my mind I thought, "I want them to stay this way forever."  I thought about Number One at 4 years old, and I had a hard time picturing his face each year afterwards.  The years drift by, the children grow up.  It all goes so quickly. 

This year was good and bad for me, as most years are for everyone.  I really struggled with Hubby hurting his leg.  I struggled with my own demons too for most of the year, and I finally feel settled, happy even.  I made many of my goals.  I changed my whole life for the better, by losing weight and exercising.  I finally began to accept that I will probably be bald for the rest of my life.  (Except for some reason, I have not accepted that I will not have eyebrows). 

Hubby and I finally got the house cleaned (literally--and mostly due to his efforts I must say!).  We also finally posted rules for the kids, and became more consistent in our disciplining of them. 

I have goals for next year too, but I know as soon as I blink an eye tax season will be here, and then Halloween and then Christmas 2013, and we will be turning the calendars to 2014 before I know it.  Be thankful for what you have and appreciate each and every day, because time moves so fast.