30 Day Shred Update -- failure.

Well......

I failed. I lasted about 13 days. But they were 13 good days. Boy did I sweat. Yeck...

I didn't stop because it was too hard. I stopped because even though I said I would power through the move and continue working out, I couldn't. Things got crazy busy and hectic. And honestly? No, I couldn't fit a 25-30 minute workout routine in. The last week and a bit before we moved, we were travelling from our old little town to this city, painting, cleaning (both places), and packing.

I'd love to start it up again -- and I plan to -- because it was a brutal workout, and therefore I was literally feeling the results. Even if it was only 13 days. I didn't do end measurements or weight (actually I haven't checked my weight since we moved!!!) I just didn't see the point. 

I'm thinking I might start on Monday. No... actually? I will start again on Monday. Before it gets too crazy hot to do it.

But overall, I really enjoyed the workout. I felt every muscle being worked, strained and torn. I felt my unused and unworked muscles shaking less and less as the days went on. I almost always walked away with jello legs. And by about day 8-10 I was able to do a real push-up!
That ladies and gentlemen? Is what I call success. And even though I didn't complete the whole challenge, I still got up off my butt and bettered my body to some degree.

And I'm happy with that.

Her prayer to baby Jesus

If you've been following me on Twitter or read my post, you know how much trouble bath time brings around here.

A few nights ago, after saying her prayers with her, well...for her -- she'll say Amen -- I asked if she wanted to pray one more time to baby Jesus. She said okay. She put her hands up, and in her sweet toddler language tried her best to repeat after me. We asked if baby Jesus could please help her to not be afraid of the bath tub anymore. Then she said Amen. Sweet girl. I think I teared up a bit.

Since then we've been trying a few things to make the situation more bearable, but we haven't been having all that much luck. Today I attempted bringing her in the shower with me, after I was washed. She was unsure and nervous, whimpering and whining. I made it somewhat of a game and told her it was like the rain. It went a bit better than I anticipated but still not like bath time used to be. I washed her hair and that was pretty much all she could handle.

An improvement. I'll take it.

The story of our chalk.

If I had a blood pressure cuff it would probably break after the kind of day I've had. No. Joke. And as I sit outside writing this, it still continues.

We left some of Leah's chalk on our front step. Over night. I wouldn't think people would come steal it or anything. Well, I thought wrong. Except it didn't get taken over night. It was during the day. By another two year old. Two years old? Understandable right? Well, we were in and out all day. I painted her toe nails, we kicked the ball around, coloured with chalk.

After dinner we were about to go out again. I asked if M could see Leah's chalk outside on the step. He said no. We went out anyways and shortly after, realized the chalk was completely missing. I look down the way a bit and this woman in jean shorts and bikini top is walking away holding our bucket of chalk with her little red haired, two-year-old boy. I said "Leah, there's your chalk! Go tell that woman its your chalk." She started to run, but didn't get far. She came back to me with her head hung low and shoulders hunched. Upset. Legit heart broken. But honestly, that WAS her chalk. I know it! So, my sister and Leah and I decided to go for a 'leisurely' walk around our complex. Past the woman's house.
So...lo and behold, sitting outside with 2 other women (also mothers) is this bikini woman. And her cute red haired boy. While walking Leah found a piece of chalk. She was estatic.
As we're marching up to these women, which I only intended on closely observing. A three year old girl comes up to Leah. In their toddler language, the conversation goes something like this:
L- chalk?
3yo- oh yeah, we have your chalk over there. (Hands Leah the bucket)
L- :-) kank-you!!
Me- - aw thank you, kiera for giving her her chalk back, we couldn't find it!
3yo- that's Leah's
Me- yes thank you very much, leah's chalk was missing.

DUN-DUN-DUN

the bikini chick speaks up.
"Um, that's our chalk honey. Why are you giving it away? Brett, go get your chalk."
Que three dirty looks my direction.

Then I spoke up and said "well, Leah was asking for her chalk because hers is missing. I guess kiera thought it was Leah's."
Keiras mom- "kiera also thought it was Emma's."

(BECAUSE LEAH KIERA AND EMMA WERE DRAWING WITH IT ON *MY* SIDEWALK YESTERDAY!!!!)

I ignored them. The bikini chick (the lying culprit who knows her son found my daughters chalk) says "here Brett, give the little girl some chalk"
I said "keep it!"
And walked away. Fuming. Gah!! Can you imagine. The nerve?

****
After Leah was in bed, I went to sit out on my front step with my sister and start writing. The little red haired boy opens his front door and runs out. Yelling "this door was unlocked, so i run out" (lol) He came running over to my step. He said "this is where I find my chalk" I said "oh you found some chalk here?" He nods. I said "did you know that was my little girls chalk? She was very sad when she couldn't find it." After this he said about a bajillion 'why's' lol
About 5 minutes later his brother comes out. The boy makes a huge deal about how we want our chalk back and he wants to give it to us. I thought that was the sweetest thing. I didn't care if I got it back or not. That little boy was sorry. And i forgive him. He's just 2. MAYBE 3. He probably knows he shouldn't of just taken it.
About fifteen more minutes of sitting outside, listening to them all yell at the boy for trying to bring us our chalk back, I just couldn't take it. I went on my back step - to enjoy the beautiful evening. But? Its incredibly sad. Lesson learned though. Don't leave ANYTHING OUT. Also? I wrote Leah's name on everything outdoorsy and our unit number.
What kind of people do that? I know its just some silly sidewalk chalk, but its still not right. And that boy knew it. And so did the rest of the mothers once he went back there announcing we wanted the chalk back that HE took.
B!#(H.

I guess we can't choose our parents though, can we?
***

Bath Tub Terrors

I have but one person...er...monkey to thank for the trauma we've all been faced with these last few weeks. Yeah, Curious Geourge, im looking at you.
Okay, but seriously? What kind of writer came up with the idea to make an episode featuring his bath toys getting sucked down the drain? Clearly one who doesn't have children. I can completely understand why she would be afraid of said episode, but i never thought it would escalate to this.
Bath time is a series of struggling, screaming, terrifying and traumatizing events. No joke. It. Is. HARD. Of course we're also into the most messy season of all...summer. Mud, grass, dirt, sand...you get it. She gets dirty. Dirty = BAD...real bad.
The mention of the the words "bath time" send her into a full out freak out. When i do get her in the bathroom, she sees her toys are in there, the plug is in...still a no-go. I tried getting my baithing suit on, getting in, playing, splashing -- a good 'ol time (for me). And as she stands --on the outside-- watching, she still isnt comfortable enough to even get in. Please note: the screaming-crying fit hasn't subsided yet.

Regardless, my child needs to be cleaned. Unfortunatley, i have no choice but to go against her will and plop her in, lay her down and soak her hair. At this point screaming has turned into something of a growling hoarse shriek and i feel like a completely terrible person, let alone mother. Once we're done i pull the plus and she gets into a fit again...er, i guess it never ended, but you know what i mean. She's freaking the heck out. I try showing her that her toys nor my hand or anything except water can go down the drain. Well, she couldn't care less. She wanted the heck out of there. so, i got her out. She was shaking. I felt even worse! If that was even possible. Apparently it was. I brought her in my room and talked calmly to her explaining that her toys are okay. They're too big to go down the drain. ONLY water goes down there. She sort of --in toddler language-- repeated everything i said followed by a sweet, heart melting "okay mommy". I could of cried.
Im so terrified that this is going to turn into some kind of phobia or something. A phobia of water or the tub or...i don't know...anything that can be related.
When i was about 4yo i lived with my parents in a small apartment. We only had a stand-up shower. I hated it, but what else could my mom do? I had to get clean. I still remember sitting on the shower floor crying. I was traumatized. I think it may have been a  year later that we moved. I never took another shower until i was almost 15 years old. I was just uncomfortable. I'm ok now, obviously. But still, i fear for Leah. I was thinking maybe i could try sitting her in our kitchen sick, since its big... or just doing sponge baths until she has some time to forget about this theory she has.
Help a sista out. Any suggestion peeps??

The last day as a workin' mama...

Its hard to know where to begin this post.
I guess I'll start by saying that we moved to this beautiful little town just over a year ago. We knew no one. Once we were settled in, I started looking for a part time job. Thankfully, I was successful. In more than just obtaining a job. I met some pretty awesome people. They all made me feel welcome and at home. The main two women on my shift were both mothers as well. My manager, having a 13 yo and 11 yo boys, and another Co worker having having 2 children close to the same age. They treated me equal. They didn't look at me like a young mother (I'm not even that young of a mother...22?!). Maybe it was because they, too, had their children around my age. Who knows. All I know, is that I will never forget these two. So obviously I plan to keep in touch.
My manager was the best manager I've ever had. So many people had issues with her. She was everything you'd want in a boss. Friendly, sociable, does something other than standing around, and understanding.
My coworker was such a sweet woman. Always bringing baked goodies in for the team, she took our family photos and Leah's good 'ol TWO years old photos!

When I went in today, there was a "goodbye and congratulations on the new home" card. Signed by some of my Co workers.
When I left I couldn't help but get choked up sitting in the parking lot. I cranked the music as I drove across town to my "for now" home, windows down. My last time leaving from what used to be work. I soaked in all that beautiful sunshine shining through the windows, the cool spring breeze blowing through my hair. It was sort of bitter sweet. Call me crazy but I love this town. Like, legit love. Maybe its the name, maybe its the gorgeous scenery... the 2 rivers we have flowing through...the crazy hills, the sweet people, the NORMAL people.

**sigh**

When I was 16 years old, I drove through this town on my way to a tournament. I knew right then, that this was where I wanted to live. That someday, I would live here. Forever.
Well, a year isn't exactly forever, but I'm glad and so happy that I got to spend that here. I guess its better if you move around --a bit anyways-- so you know exactly where is right for you, where home is.
Secretly, I plan on coming back here some day. But for now, we're going where life is taking us. Moving up in the world if you will.

I'm so ready. So ready to be a sahm. For a few months anyways. So ready to spend this summer with my family camping, beachin' it up, going to the safari, Canada's Wonderland. I. Can't. Wait.
This summer is going to be a.m.a.z.i.n.g.

The Mom Business

It ain't easy. But boy is it amazing. I always wanted to be a mother. I never imagined it would be like this. I'm pretty confident its like this for everyone... but its still unbelievable. The love. The bonding. The tears, sweat, and blood...er...poop. The whole shabang. The choices, decisions and constant responsibility isn't easy, but the loving? That comes naturally.

There's days that I just want to lock myself in the bathroom, soak in a bubble bath for hours while sipping a margarita. Then, obviously, there's the real world. I don't exactly get to soak in the bath, let alone a bubble bath. It takes too long to make margaritas. I'll stick to chocolate.

Time for myself isn't always optional and I guess that's understandable given I have a busy, needy, talkative toddler that only wishes she could be attached to my hip. During the day my concentration level is at its lowest. Someone always needs a drink, or a snack, to go potty, read stories or play. But this is life. No matter how busy or crazy it gets...its mine. Its what I was meant for. Meant to be mommy. I wouldn't change this for the world. So time for myself will always be stuck on the side lines, for now anyways.

I sometimes think back to the way it was before I became 'Mommy'. Boring. Uneventful. Wasteful almost. I think back and wonder "why in the world didn't you just have one more drink? Because you COULD." Or "why didn't you go somewhere, anywhere, out of the country." Or this one. "Why didn't you put money away!!? Because when you have a child your going to want some pretty expensive thing that won't go over well with your pocket book!"
After all those thoughts...I think geez, you know what? Life is good. I mean, you know, it could be a little better. Gas could be lower, internet could be free (Heh heh). But I'm happy. So completely happy with where I am. So thankful for everything God has blessed us with. Yes, there have been hard times and I'm sure there will be hard times to come, but I have faith that we'll prevail.
Who knows what the future will bring. But I'm definetly excited for the months to come!

30 Day Shred -- day 2

Well, I just finished my second workout of the thirty day shred. A lot of people have said that level 1 is too easy but, in my opinion...if your sore the next day -- then its doing something. Something good. And let me tell you, I'm SORE. I've got jello legs. Im having a hard time walking, and I've even broke a sweat.
Pretty much every muscle is incorporated in this workout, and I'm pretty confident that it will at LEAST help me tone up. I took my measurements this morning and I'm pretty sure of what my weight is, although I can't be exactly certain to the decimal since I packed our scale away already. But? It doesnt really matter. I have an idea, since ive been within the same 5 lbs for the last few months, and i weighed myself before i packed it. I've promised myself, and now you, that I'm NOT going to weigh or measure myself until my thirty days are finished.

We're moving in 15 days. Our TV and DVD player is obviously going to be one of the last things to go (and one of the first things set up). Still, I can't make any promises that I will for sure be able to do a workout on the 21st. Since its going to be one hectic and crazy busy day with people all around us for the majority of the day...
I'm not going to beat myself up over it. I want to stay as positive and motivated about this as possible.
On a similar note. I'm really trying to eat better and less.
I have a number in mind of how much I would really like to lose. And then I have a realistic goal. In pounds and inches. Oh, also? I did take a 'before photo but... you'll have to wait to see that. :-)

We'll see how it goes. I'll update about it once in a while.

***

I'm tired.

I'm so tired of trying to lose weight. I'm tired of cutting out absolutely all carbs, sugar and fatty foods. I'm tired of doing cardio with little results. I'm tired of being this same weight for the last year. Same flabby stomach, same back fat, armpit boob (you know what I mean), same jiggly thighs. I'm sick and tired of getting on the scale. Seeing the same numbers bounce back and forth between 8 Lbs.
You can't tell me I'm meant to be this weight. I'm so not. I should be able to lose 10 pounds! Some people can lose 30-50 pounds doing what I do/did, and I can't even lose TEN! I was going to the gym faithfully. Man did I love it. I was starting to go beyond my comfort zone. Starting to feel comfortable. Confident even. I believe in surrounding yourself with people you wish to mirror. And I am pretty sure it helped. I was at my lowest weight of the 8 lbs I am always bouncing between, which was like 3-4 pounds lost at the gym. I feel like that's as far as I ever get. No matter what I do I can't push past that mark. Its so unmotivating. I'm sure anyone whose ever wanted to lose weight can relate.
Just over a year ago I lost 25lbs. I lost this in a three month time period, using protein weightloss shakes. My mom lost almost 50 pounds in three months on these same "shakes". It worked. I definetly believe that doing it together is what kept us going, making it a competition and thriving over any achievement from one another.

Lately I've debated going on the shakes again but, I tried it. Countless times again. Literally the same day I'm 'cheating'. I've also thought about Weight Watchers. But what if it doesn't work because its not intense? (I don't know if it is or isn't - just a part of me thinks I need intense. Who knows.) I don't want to waste that money. Another part of me just think I should get my butt out and go running again. But yeah... that takes time. Time I don't always have.
So...the last 2 weeks I've been obsessing over weight gain. Food. Weight loss. Numbers. The last 2 weeks? I've probably gained 8 lbs. I feel gross. I feel puffy and just disgusting.
To save myself the misery, I packed our bathroom scale. I'm sick of obsessing over it.

So my conclusion? I'm straight up UNMOTIVATED!!! LAZY!!
I don't know what to do but wait around for a bout of motivation to hit.

If you have any tips or advice, or anything (nice) to say...please. feel free.