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Well, another Mother’s Day has come and gone. In case you lost count, it’s now Tuesday which marks 2 full days since Mother’s Day and it also happens to mark 2 full days since I’ve been waiting to have a waking moment of peace to myself in order to write a blog about Mother’s Day. Because that’s what happens when you’re a mother. You wait. You wait for silence. You wait for peaceful quiet bliss. You wait for the moment when the hellions stop trying to kill each other and drift into dreamland and hope to God you can stay awake long enough to squeeze a minute or two of enjoyment out of it before you pass out from exhaustion on the couch. Ahhhh…. the joys of motherhood.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Love my kids!!!! Don’t go jumping on the judgy bandwagon and thinking that a little complaining here and there means I don’t appreciate the beautiful gift of children. Because I totally, completely do. But if I’m being perfectly honest, I like to feel sorry for myself every once in a while. It’s totally cathartic. I recommend it. Wallow in self pity for a bit! You’ll feel great! You’ll feel validated! You’ll feel like your 4 year old gets to feel when he has an uninterrupted and ignored temper tantrum when you say “No” to a treat at the grocery store. Un-acknowledged, maybe, but totally satisfied and ready to take on the rest of the day. Why should our kids be the only ones who get to be selfish brats sometimes? I wanna be a brat, too!

And so, for Mother’s Day this year, I decided to be a little bit selfish. It started on Saturday when I went shopping for my own mother’s gift. This got me thinking. Mothers always say they don’t want anything for Mother’s Day, my mom included. This is not true. Not even a little bit. There had better be a gift, or some flowers, or some toast and coffee in bed, or at least a damn card waiting because let’s be honest: it is literally the LEAST you could do. Really. What mother doesn’t appreciate a little bit of thought put into her happiness, at least one day of the year? And if you give your mother or your wife or your baby momma the excuse that you “Didn’t have time to get anywhere, and you’ll make it up to her,” you’re a special kind of douchebag. Mother’s Day is marked on the calendar. It’s not a big surprise. You have warning that it’s coming, same time every year. Get something.

So I’m shopping for my mom and we happen to have similar tastes in a lot of things, so a lot of the gifts I am considering for her are REALLLY appealing to me…for myself. Does this ever happen to you? And suddenly a genius thought strikes me. I’m going to buy myself my own damn Mother’s Day present. After years of boring gifts, thoughtless gifts, no gifts, gifts chosen by sister-in-laws, last minute gifts, gifts from the checkout aisle at the grocery store, I decide that I’ve paid my dues and I am determined to have a mother’s day gift that I really enjoy. And who better to choose it than me? Who appreciates my mothering skills and virtues more than I do? Who has a better understanding of the day in day out sacrifices a mother makes, including her own personal sanity? Nobody. I wander around the store, looking at all the things I would love to have, wondering to myself just exactly how I might measure up on the Good Mom scale. I take a mental inventory of all the crappy-mom things I have done, and compare them to a list of all the pretty great-mom things in my repertoire. I finish my shopping and head to the checkout. This year, I’m not going to wait and wonder if I will be disappointed by my family’s ‘efforts’. I am not going to base my value as a mother on the thought that anyone else may or may not have put into a gift or sentiment for me. This year, on Mother’s Day, my gift to myself is a good book, a cute little purse, and my own realization that I am a really good mother.

On Sunday morning, the Big Day, I awake to a quiet house. The older ones are at their dad’s and the little one is awake and downstairs with my BF. Nobody is bothering me. For a moment I consider that I should probably get up and go downstairs, but I decide against it and lay in bed and browse Facebook instead. Lots of ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ messages. A strange phenomena is brought to my attention….all of the messages are from Mothers. A sneaking suspicion that has been gnawing at me lately is validated: The only people who truly care about Mother’s Day are mothers themselves.

Let me make myself clear. I know that all of you sons and husbands and fathers and even some daughters out there may really truly appreciate the women in your lives who happen to be mothers. You may even lavish these moms with special gifts, suppers, flowers, etc on Mother’s Day, putting a lot of thought into what might make this special woman happy. Of this is the case, good for you! You’re not a douchebag, carry on. All I’m saying is that nobody can really truly appreciate a mother like another mother can. You never truly realize what kind of sacrifices and bullshit your mother had to put up with because of you, until you become a mother yourself. And you can’t even fathom a mother’s love until you are the one giving it, unconditional and unrelenting, day in and day out for the rest of your days on earth. And this is why Mother’s Day is so important. As a mother, the best gift you can give yourself on Mother’s Day and any other day is the permission to fail, the strength to continue, and the acknowledgment that you’re doing a good job, and nobody knows that more than another mother does.

When my 8 year old daughter got home, she proudly presented me with a pile of artwork she had been working on all weekend. She had made me a Mothers Day card, of course. A big picture of my face, with a poem,
“You are specile, You are Bright, you are the best mom in the light.”
She began describing the picture in detail. “See, mom, I gave you black hair, and the little earrings you always wear. And your pink lips and the blush on your cheeks, because I know you like to put blush on your cheeks.” And then she stops, looks at the picture, looks at me, and says, “Awwww Man!” I say, “What?” She says, “I totally forgot to put those big black circles under your eyes!”.

Happy Mother’s Day to me.

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You know what I’m sick of? 2 things.
1. Winter.
2. Seeing Kim Kardashian’s pregnant behind plastered all over the internet, t.v., and magazine racks at the 7-11 when I’m trying to buy my Family Sized chocolate bars.

In both cases, I think I can speak for the entire North American population when I say, “Enough Already!”

I want to be clear about my position on the Kardashians. Love ’em or hate ’em, the Kardashians are in your face all over the place. Famous for being famous, I guess, which is why they have such a dedicated posse of haters. And there are a lot of haters out there!!! I am not one of them. I happen to think that if you have found a way to be famous for no reason at all, you’re a freakin’ genius. Good for you! You’ve turned the public’s disgusting appetite for celebrity and all things superficial into a bankable career, and for that you should be commended. Reality shows, Clothing lines, high profile romances….. ahhhh the life. And as for the Kardashian women, for the most part I can actually look past the superficial bullshit and find admiration in the way these girls use their assets and social strengths to create public personas for themselves, all while steeling themselves to the harsh and criticizing world of our shallow and misguided society.

Case in point, Kim Kardashian. I happen to think that Kim is one of the most physically beautiful women on the planet. Not only does she have dark stunning features and a striking set of eyes, she has a bountiful body full of curves and one hell of a booty. A girl after my own heart. But probably the most attractive thing about Kim is her CONFIDENCE. This girl has a bum so big that I believe she had her ass x-rayed to prove that she doesn’t have butt implants. A lot of girls in her shoes would be draping themselves in pretty sarongs on the beach…not Kim. Kim rocks a tiny bikini every time. By industry standards, she’s got wide hips, big boobs, and a big ass.
EXCLUSIVE: Kim and Kourtney Kardashian take over Miami Beach with new beach bods
By my standards, and most women and men out there, she’s a goddess. And Ironically, her baby-daddy previously penned a song with the lyrics, “She’s got an ass that will Swallow up a G-String.” Yes, Confidence is sexy, and Kim has confidence. We’ve all seen that ‘uneven’ couple somewhere and thought, “How did HE get HER?” or vice versa. The answer to that riddle, of course, is Confidence. Mother Nature’s greatest equalizer. Not born with stunning good looks? Snaggletooth and hammertoes? One leg shorter than the other? No problem! All you need is a little of this here magic potion we call Confidence to level the playing field. It’s the single most important quality I believe a person can have, and I pray that my kids have tons of it. There are not many things that can shake a very confident woman….but pregnancy happens to be one of them.

Kim loves to be on the cover of magazines, and all over the media. It’s her career. But I’m pretty sure, when she got pregnant, this was not the type of publicity she was hoping for.
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If you’ve ever been pregnant, you know that even the happiest, most excited, ecstatic mother-to-be goes through some serious body image issues at some point. Things all over your body are changing. Drastically. And while it’s true that not all women are as shallow and body-image obsessed as me, I do believe that most pregnant women struggle with getting bigger in some way. And most pregnant women would not want to be in line at the grocery store with a 2 litre pail of ice cream and see their own pregnant ass staring back at them from the newsstand.

With a caption that reads, “I can’t stop Eating!!”.

OK Holy Hell Society, I don’t know exactly who “you” are, but I’m pretty sure “you” are actually “we” and WE need to wake the hell up and leave pregnant women alone. The pressure that is being put on women in today’s world to be thin and beautiful all the time is totally out of control! I know I rant about it all the time, but it’s really getting to me. I think we can safely assume we are failing as a whole when we start picking on pregnant women about their weight, and EVEN MORE Ridiculous, their fashion choices. Like, Really? This is on the top of the list of most talked about public gossip….Kim Kardashian’s latest maternity fashion DON’T. OH.MY.GOD.

Check out this little nugget from www.redcarpet.net :

“Kim Kardashian slammed for bad maternity style” As much as Kim Kardashian tries so hard to look good during her pregnancy, the socialite just can’t pull it off in her tacky maternity wear. In fact, the Keeping Up with the Kardashians star has been lambasted for her bad taste in maternity fashion – which usually comprise either baggy clothing or tight, skimpy outfits. A case in point: she was recently caught by fashion police wearing a billowing pink dress to church in Los Angeles. The reality TV star, who is six months pregnant, looked larger than life – especially around her ballooning hips.But Kim appears unperturbed by the criticism, tweeting photos of her bare pregnant belly for the world to see.

GASP!!! How dare she wear a billowing Pink Dress! How Dare She have ballooning hips!!! Nevermind that there’s a human being growing in between them, she should at least make an effort and slap some SPANKS on those bad boys and try to tame that tummy! Can’t she find anything more attractive? Well, it seems Kim just can’t win for losing. Now all of her fashion choices are being criticized and picked apart, and more often than not, featured in full-on “Mean Girl” style ‘Who Wore It Better’ articles. She gets compared to her previously pregnant sister:

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Other celebrities who are NOT PREGNANT and probably starving themselves:
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And in the most offensive and disturbing display of bullying I’ve seen in a while, she is being compared to Marine Life:
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Now, can you imagine what life is like? This woman is in love, expecting her very first baby, and full to the brim with explosive pregnancy hormones. And every damn time she leaves the house, she knows somebody is going to have a problem with what she is wearing, and there’s probably going to be somebody taking a picture of her big pregnant ass at the absolute most unflattering time and angle possible. Did you ever catch a glimpse of your own pregnant ass by accident before? I have, and I’m pretty sure all the hairs stood up on the back of my neck I was so horrified. Pregnancy may be beautiful, but most of the time, it’s not pretty. And to expect it to be pretty, 100% of the time from someone, is not fair.

Can we leave the pregnant ladies alone? I remember being pregnant with my second. I was huge. My brother hadn’t seen me throughout my entire pregnancy until he came home at Christmas, when I was 9 months pregnant. I’ll never forget his face when he walked in the door and saw me. It was a look of shock and awe, which he tried to hide with arched eyebrows and a nervous chuckle. That was the same Christmas I considered punching my grandpa’s lights out if he made one more comment about how many sandwiches I was eating. And my step-dad, God Love Him, posted a pic of me on Facebook hunched over the buffet table shoving a big bite of something into my mouth. Thanks, Dad! Pregnant women just want to be left alone. We know we are big, thank you very much. I don’t even need to go into the whole spiel about how our bodies are growing precious little lives inside because, well, Eff you, that’s why! Nobody should have to explain or validate their appearance to anyone, let alone a pregnant woman. So back off, K? Can’t we get back to gossiping about the Bachelor’s resident nut-job and buying magazines revealing Hollywood’s worst Plastic Surgery Fails?

Instead, let’s make fun of the ridiculous photographic choices women make ON PURPOSE when they are pregnant! HEEEEHEHEHEHEHE FUN! Ok, so I have to cop to actually taking cheesy maternity photos myself, finally got around to it with #3 and, like everyone else who does it, really wanted to document and remember what my body looked like with that precious little life inside. But OOOOOHHHHH hahahaha I did not go this far. Check it out:

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Jackie Chan says, “WTF?!?!”

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Britney Spears says, “WTF?!?!”

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Kim Kardashian says, “WTF!!!!?!?!”
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hahahaha Come on, Kim, Strap on some of those Yellow Suspenders and let’s see “Who Wore It Better!!!”.

Geesh.

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Whoever came up with the phrase “Sleeping like a baby” is an idiot.

I have an 8 month old, beautiful happy baby boy. Light of my life. Would do ANYTHING for this kid. But if someone came along right now and offered me one full week of uninterrupted sleep in exchange for my 3rd born adorable bundle of joy, I’m pretty sure I’d say “Hell Ya and Here’s the Diaper Bag!”.

I had a colicky first baby…I’d like to give you the details of her sleep patterns when she was a baby but honestly, I’ve blocked out pretty much the entire first year of her life, and can’t remember. Baby #2 was a dream…sleeping through the night at 6 weeks, happy all the time, big cute smile. He turned hellish around age 2 but hey I had 2 good years as a primer and by then I was sucked into loving him enough to tolerate it. They grew, began eventually sleeping all night and finally even getting to bed on their own, even waking up and getting themselves breakfast while I blissfully slept. I was really enjoying sleep. A lot. Then, I had a total lapse in judgement and decided it would be a good idea to start all over again.

Remembering what it was like to have a baby in the house is a lot like remembering childbirth. You know that in theory it kind of sucked, but your brain glosses over all the crappy parts and all you remember are the touching memories and cute little moments. YOu go through your old baby clothes and think to yourself, “Awww, this little sleeper is sooo cute and sooo tiny! I can’t even remember when my babies were this small!” There is a reason you can’t remember. It’s called Sleep Deprivation. You think back to those precious days of bonding with your baby while nursing, how her little eyes would drift closed and she looked so sweet and you would gently rub her cheek wishing you could just look at her forever. What you tend to block out is pulling her into bed with you for the 5th time in one night because you’re just too freaking exhausted to get up and sit in the chair one more time. You know the health nurse “advises against it” but at this point you don’t give a shit and you latch her on to feed her, and you wake up 2 hours later with your boob smooshed up against your baby’s head and a big puddle of breast milk on the sheets. How’s that for bonding? And chances are, you’re so damn tired that all you can think is that if you don’t move she’ll stay sleeping, so you leave your boob there, smooshed against her head, until she wakes up to feed. Again.

But such is life with a newborn, right? Sure, this should only last a few more weeks, I can handle that. It’s not like I’ll NEVER get a good night’s sleep again, right? Baby #2 was sleeping through at 6 weeks, I’m sure this one will be the same. 6 weeks comes and goes. Still getting up every 2 hours. What the hell? I’m soooo tired. Too tired to put in an honest effort to try to get him to sleep in his own crib. Easier just to keep him in bed with me. I start to side with Mayim Bialik in the whole attachment parenting thing. Can’t be that bad, right? Baby Daddy isn’t getting up to help much anyway so he might as well sleep on the couch, more room for us! Shouldn’t be too much longer. I’m sure once he has some solids in his diet he will start sleeping longer.

3 months comes and goes. Still up every 3 hours. I try feeding him a bit of cereal before bedtime. No results. I’m starting to lose my mind a little. Did I mention that when you have 2 other kids to deal with, there is no such thing as taking a nap when the baby naps? Especially when this baby only naps for 20 minutes at a time. When I am awakened to the sound of his crying, I lie there and think to myself, “Shut Up. Please! Just Shut Up and go back to sleep!!!!” It’s terrible but it’s true! It boggles my mind that this tiny human who is growing at a rapid pace is getting the same amount of sleep as I am, and yet he is calm, happy and alert in his wakefulness. I on the other hand, am a disaster. I’m tired. I look in the mirror and do not recognize myself. I daydream about falling asleep and waking up to find that he’s 5 years old. The entire house is on noise lockdown. If the baby is sleeping, NOBODY is to make ANY noise. EVER. Don’t Breathe, Don’t Speak, Don’t Move. Don’t ask me for a sandwich. Mommy is going to try to have a nap. Go play the Wii….and don’t come out of your room. Ever. Thanks!

6 months…still the same. You’ve got to be kidding me. Did I mention Baby Daddy works away now and guess who is getting up with the baby 3-4 times a night? Mommy Dearest. Who, by this point, is also going by the pseudonym Sybil. My 2 other kids, God Bless them, start to carry on their fights in whispers and resort to making ugly faces at each other instead of beating on each other to solve arguments. It’s all about the quiet time. SHHH! Baby’s Sleeping! Sybil needs some rest! For the love of GOD Let Mommy Sleep!!! I am starting to believe that the best form of wartime torture HAS to be sleep deprivation. It makes you crazy. The promise of a little bit of reprieve in the form of some shuteye is enough to make you willing to do ANYTHING. At this point, I would be willing to do some crazy shit in exchange for one night of uninterrupted sleep. I read other mothers’ Facebook statuses, “Baby slept all night last night! Had to go in and poke him this morning just to see if he was still alive!” and I feel like I’m gonna lose my shit. Bitches! Whose baby sleeps through the night at 3 weeks! Liar. You’re a Damn Liar.

Baby boy is now 8 months old, and still waking twice per night. Every night is the same. I go to bed, and try to fall asleep, wondering if tonight will be the miracle night where I make it all the way to morning without getting out of bed. I finally drift off to sleep, only to be awakened 15 minutes later by Junior. It’s as if he’s saying, “Silly Mommy! What do you think you’re doing? You’re not allowed to sleep! Get in here!!!”. I slide out of bed in a fog, trudge downstairs and warm up a bottle, climb the stairs, pick up Junior, and sit in the rocking chair, all without opening my eyes. I rock myself to sleep. When I snap to, he’s done his bottle and asleep, and I return him to his crib. I fall back into bed. Only to repeat again 3-4 hours later. Sometimes he gets up at 6 a.m. Good morning!!!!! And every morning I look him square in the eye, and say the same thing: “You’re Lucky You’re So Cute.” Well, either that, or “You’re a Shithead!!!” JUST KIDDING. Maybe.

There was one night when he was only up once, and then slept in until 9 a.m. And guess what happened? My 4 year old woke up at 7 because he peed the bed. That’s Right! So I’ve officially given up the dream, pardon the pun, of ever sleeping again. If you count the months I spent waking up 4 times a night to pee while I was pregnant, I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in 17 months. Now I think you’ll agree that’s enough to drive anyone totally batshit crazy. So Word to the Wise; if you’re putting in an order to the Big Guy upstairs for a baby, don’t ask for one that “Sleeps Like A Baby”. Ask for one that “Sleeps Like You Slept Before You Had Kids.”

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Just a quick post tonight… I want to take the time to thank everyone who has been so supportive of my blog and basically just of me in general these days. I truly am loving life, and feeling great about the positive changes I have been making. I realize that nobody thinks my life is as interesting as I do 🙂 but it does give me some kind of a sense of purpose to know that I might be in some way inspiring someone else to make positive changes as well, or possibly adding my voice as someone somebody can relate to in some way. OR, if nothing else, spreading a little of my warped sense of humour around out there to add a chuckle to your morning coffee, perhaps.

I find this sentiment to be meaningful and true: “A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle.” Be supportive of your friends and family, hell even people you don’t know. It takes nothing away from you, but adds so much to someone else. Just think about the warm and fuzzies you get when someone simply “Likes” your facebook status or comments on a picture of your kids. It took almost no effort on their part, but made you feel important, even if just for a second. Now imagine that in “Real Life” form. Encourage someone. It will make you feel amazing. It reminds me of that Friends episode when Phoebe is on a desperate quest to perform a selfless act of kindness on someone, but she discovers it is impossible. The simple act of expressing kindness alone left her feeling all warm and wonderful inside and ultimately made the kindness feel selfish.

We all want to feel loved, accepted and important. It is the human condition. It is important to realize that how we treat others in life is a direct reflection of our character. Karma is alive and well out there in the universe, people. Be afraid!!!! But more importantly, Be Nice! Nice guys don’t finish last, they finish happy. Negativity is like junk food…it may taste good on the tongue and can become addictive, but it leaves you feeling yucky and when you finally give up the habit you feel so much better!

Finally, encourage yourself. Sometimes, the person we tend to dish out the most negativity to is ourselves. If your inner dialogue sounds more like an angry EMINEM rap song than an Al Green love ballad, I’m talking to you. Be kind to yourself. Believe in yourself. Let go of any limitations you may have set in your own mind. Sometimes the best way to feel better about yourself is to make someone else feel better. The Dalai Lama says, “It is very important to generate a good attitude, a good heart, as much as possible. From this, happiness in both the short term and the long term for both yourself and others will come.”

We are all independant individual souls in this world, but we are not alone. We are all sharing the experience of Life, and none of us is an expert. We are all beginners, we are all learning. Let’s help each other.

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Why, hello Shaun T. We meet again. As much as I hold you in deep disdain and find your penchant for screaming “PUUUSH!!!” alarming, I must admit I’ve begun to look forward to our daily rendezvous. It seems you’ve had an interesting effect on me, one I never anticipated. At first, I feared you. (So much, I actually peed myself, haha.) Then, I hated you. And now, my heart is all aflutter with anticipation while I’m lacing up my crosstrainers. You’ve got the body of Adonis and the voice of Will Smith, and you make me do things, crazy things, I never thought I’d do! How do you work that voodoo magic that you do?

I’ve been following the Insanity program for over a week now. I mentioned previously that I had been working out via runs on the treadmill for about a month prior, in “training” for Insanity. Now that’s Insanity, right? But I honestly think I would not be pulling off this workout now if I hadn’t! Let me give you a little visual on what the floor looks like when I finish a 40 minute workout with Shaun T.:

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That’s SWEAT on the floor. Not Pee! I swear! 🙂 But seriously, this is an intense workout! I’ve never been one to shy away from physical activity but just watching the promo’s for this program made me want to grab a jar of peanut butter and lay on the couch watching Biggest Loser. But I didn’t. I pushed myself, and I’m so glad I did. Here’s why….

I’ve been like millions of other women out in the world who have a vision or a goal in their heads about what kind of life they want to live or what kind of body they want to have or whatever, and just wait for some miracle to happen to make it come true. And then I cry in my peanut butter when, “Surprise!” nothing changes. Why did nothing change? Because I changed nothing. I realized this. A lightning bolt struck me one day and I finally got it, that if I want different results, I have to try a different approach. I’ve gone on workout kicks before too, but after about 2 or 3 weeks, they fizzled out as I got more and more comfortable with believing that what I had achieved so far was “good enough”. This time around, something in me keeps telling me to Push Harder. Every day I try and give it a little bit more. Go a little faster. Go a little longer. Try a little Harder. The result is that I feel strong. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I feel like I am in control! Which, as any fellow Control Freak might agree, is a pretty fabulously powerful feeling.

Crazy things are happening. I wake up in the morning after being up 3 times with the baby, but I am not tired. I am not grouchy. I can’t wait to put my feet on the floor and breathe today’s air. I don’t snap at the kids. Butterflies trail behind me as I make breakfast, even BEFORE my morning coffee! Oh, you spilled your milk and cereal all over the table and floor? No problem! What’s that? You forgot to tell me you need 2 dozen cupcakes for the bake sale this morning? Let me just whip some up for ya there SweetCheeks. I did a week of Insanity, I can handle anything you little turds are gonna throw at me! I’m Bad Ass!! Holy Patience, Batman! Suddenly, I don’t feel like I’m going to lose it on the 99 year old driving 2mph down mainstreet in front of me. But even that is not the most miraculous thing happening.

I feel good about myself. I look in the mirror and I like what I see, because I am finally realizing that my body is a vehicle and a tool, not an identity. My body is capable of anything I ask it to do, if not today then maybe tomorrow, which is pretty amazing. I am starting to understand the cliché that “beauty begins on the inside”. Power, Strength, Endurance, are all qualities that must begin as inner virtues in order to manifest physically. And they do. My muscles, my cardio capacity, my posture are all improving slowly but steadily. I am beginning to walk differently, with purpose. And ya, maybe a little swagger! Can you blame me, my ass looks good in my jeans again!

There is so much value in feeling pride in your achievements. This doesn’t just apply to working out! I really want to extend the challenge to any of you out there who may be feeling defeated, or just feeling like you need a change, to try something different. Change your inner dialogue. Push yourself to break out of the box that you have put yourself in, labeled, and packed away on the shelf. Talk yourself out of your excuses!

One of the ways I decided to break out of the old routine was to start this blog. Not only was writing something I had always enjoyed and missed doing, but was also a great way to become more accountable for my goals. I mean, if I SAY I’m gonna do something and everyone out there reading this knows I said it, I’m much less likely to go back on it! Now that I’ve gone and said my ass looks good in my jeans again, you can bet yours that I’m gonna be workin’ out again tomorrow!

Peace Out!
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Do you find yourself browsing Pinterest and wondering what the hell happened to you when God was handing out talent? Or creativity? Or motivation? Oh good, I’m not the only one then.
This is what happens. I get my cup of coffee and my heaping delicious spoonful of peanut butter, and I settle in with my laptop for a decadent moment to myself. Oh, sweet silence. I check my Facebook and creep on a few pages. OK, nothing new here, moving on. Pinterest. This is where I go when I need a good laugh (gotta love those ECards!) or a great recipe (gonna make something awesome for supper tonight!!!) or some super creative arts and crafts idea that my kids will just LOVE (Who knew you could make so many different kinds of kids paint with Cornstarch!). It is also where I go to become completely confused, annoyed, and depressed.

OK, that took a negative turn but hear me out. Maybe I’m surfing around on there, repinning all kinds of awesome shit when I see, for example, someone has pinned a collage of all the wonderful and insanely intricate HANDMADE details of the birthday party she threw for her kid. On first glance, I think “Wow, that’s great!”. As I look closer, I begin to question who in the hell has the time, talent, or energy to spend 8 hours making loot bags for a bunch of little brats to take with them on the way out the door? It never would have occurred to me to hand-stitch each guest’s name into their own personal bean bag for the bean bag toss but hey, more power to ya Lady. Obviously I need to up my game in the birthday party department. No Biggie. What’s next?

Supper. I need an idea. Let’s see….bacon wrapped this, slowcooker that. It’s 3 p.m. and I need something quick and easy. Oh but wait! What’s this? Penne Alfredo with Grilled Chicken? And Slow-Roasted honey-drizzled asparagus? AND Cheesy Pull-Apart Garlic Bread?!?! YUMM!! Definitely pinning that. I bet I have all that stuff in my kitchen. Maybe I should look for something easier….oh wait though what is that? DESSERT! Well I can’t have dessert right now because I’m “watching my diet” but it can’t hurt to look. That looks ooey-gooey. Turtle Cheesecake.Ohsweetmotherofpecans that looks good. I scoop another spoonful of peanut butter. I pin Turtle Cheesecake. For later, when I’m allowed to eat cheesecake again. OR for when I stop giving a shit and eat it anyway, whichever comes first. NEXT!

Ok this is when I head to the “Fitness Motivation” section. Usually, after my second helping of peanut butter and a few dessert-porn drool sessions, I’m ready to snap back into reality. Bring it On, Pinterest. Oh my. What I wouldn’t give for an ass like that. Abs, I’m pretty sure I’m past the point of abs but an ass is do-able. Some great pics on here! Wow these ladies must work hard. I bet they don’t eat peanut butter though. Might be something to think about, but I digress. And that’s when I start noticing all of these really helpful, motivational quotes! “The difference between want and need is Self Control!” Amen to that, Sister! Oh, and, “Sweat is Fat Crying.” Now that makes sense! Oh, here’s another one: “Nothing Tastes as Good as Being Thin Feels”. Hhmmm. I slowly put down my empty peanut butter spoon. I look at the half empty jar. I look at the phenomenal ass of the woman who is telling me that nothing tastes as good as being thin feels. I consider the irony in the fact that I have just pinned 8 things to my “Motivational Fitness” board followed by 4 things pinned to “Sweets”, and the fact that in the time it took me to pin those pins and eat a buttload of peanut butter, I could probably have squeezed in a good Ass workout.

I am now depressed, and feeling like a failure. I have to question something here. Whose fault is this? Is it Pinterest’s fault for contributing to the illusion of perfection that plagues us as a society? Is it my fault for pinning so many tasks to my virtual “To-Do” list that, let’s face it, I have no real intention of ever actually DOING? Is Pinterest just one more way we lie to ourselves about who we are? Honestly, do our Pinterest Profiles really reflect who we really are, or rather who we wish we were if only we had the time, money, talent, patience, brains, beauty, etc. etc.? And don’t even get me started on those of you who are not pregnant or engaged, but comment “Will be glad I pinned this later!” on every wedding idea and baby post you come across. Bitch, Please. Maybe we need to stop pinning all of this unachievable madness and start pinning a little reality instead. Like, “Check it out! 55 ways to make it through the day without swearing at your kids!”, or “101 ways to make a Grilled Cheese Sandwich”, or “Peanut Butter Tastes as Good as Being Thin Feels!”.

Oh Well! No time to wallow in my mistakes, or the many ways we are failing as a society! There’s always tomorrow, right? I’ve got a family to feed! Time to whip up a nice delicious healthy supper. Ironically, I spent so much time pinning delicious meal ideas that now all I have time to make is Mac’n’Cheese and hotdogs.

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