Working Out...again

I knew that starting to run again at 35 would be hard on my body, but I didn't know it would be this hard.  Running now, while it feels great in the moment, has introduced me to a level of discomfort I didn't know existed.  I know it's not because of how out of shape I am-because I am not that much more out of shape than the last time I really got serious about my physical fitness.  The main difference is that now I'm 35-when before, I was 29.

Look at how YOUNG and energetic I am!!!!!

When I was 29 and started working out again, I had two young kids but could find an hour to work out during their nap times 5 days a week.  5 DAYS A WEEK!!!  I would do push ups, ab work, cardio, weight lifting, and my body LOVED it.  Sure, I was sore, but it went away quickly.
Last week I started a Couch to 5K workout.  It is 3 days per week for 30 minutes.  That's it.  I'm now on week two.  Today I thought I might have to amputate my legs after doing the workout for 31 minutes.  

This is honestly what I looked like when I got off the couch a few hours after my run.

This is something I have never experienced before.  I know that the workout is not the problem.  It feels great to move my body and see my times improving.  I like feeling my muscles move and seeing them change after just  a week.  I like knowing that my body can do what I need it to do.
Before, when I was 29, my body just cooperated with me.  My body said "sure, we can do this!"  I said "Do More!" and my body said "YES!!!  MORE!!!"   Now, at 35, I say "can we please, please, please go for a little run today?  My body sighs and says "Fuck off, not now, I want to take a nap"  and I'll say "well, we really need to" and my body says "okay...but you know what that means for you later..."

Now I know.  Right after my run I felt great.  Loose, long, lanky muscles, tired, sweaty, satisfied.  A few hours later I felt like the crypt keeper.  I felt like my legs, feet, ankles and brain were screaming at me with every step.  "WHY!!!!!  Why????  This is week 2!  It should start to feel better now...not like torture!!"  But I know, this is all part of getting older.  I'm fortunate that I can get in shape, train for a 5K, challenge myself but I know that this is going to hurt like Hell.  That's okay-I'm tough.

Becoming

Somewhere along the way, I have become a mother.  I don't mean on the day my first daughter was born when it seemed so weird to say "that's my daughter," or the time that I fumbled through teaching her to walk or even when I introduced her to her younger sister-because I don't think that it happened in one moment.

I think it was a million little failures, fears and maybe 100 successes.  I think that I knew that I was their mother, but I didn't understand that, at the core of my being, I AM a mother.  I think that living in the neverending, messy confusion of early motherhood and waiting for something to happen, something to change, I didn't feel the subtle and important changes happening in my core.

When my eldest daughter was born she was beautiful and disgusting-all covered in goo and blood and screaming.  I looked at her and marveled at her perfection and immediately thought "Oh shit, I have to take her home."  I was completely terrified and projectile vomited all over my hospital room after eating two purple popsicles and didn't sleep again for 3 years and still I craved her snuggles, smiles, words, and laughter.  Somewhere, I started to feel that mother-ness...

Maybe it was when my youngest was born and I felt like my heart was going to explode with joy when I saw my two beautiful girls together.  Maybe it was teaching my littlest and last baby the same things I had taught my eldest, and having her happily help her sister.  Maybe it was just a culmination of experiences, laughter, tears and exhaustion that finally makes me feel that I am more than just me.
Motherhood is transcendent.  It is really realizing that you are not who you were before.  You can never be that person again.   You can't be that person who didn't understand how your mom could have been soooooo mean to you that time.  Oh, you understand.  Mom, I totally get it.  Even more than that, you know why she came to everything for you-all of your concerts, games, so many sports things sitting on those horrible bleachers, and she was the ultimate fan of whatever you were doing at the time.  That is being a mother.

Being a mother is knowing that you can never, ever be the same person you were before your children were born, because they have helped you grow into something that is more complicated, more beautiful, better than before.

I don't know when it happened, but at some point I became not just me, but a mother, and it is terrifying and wonderful and frustrating and every other adjective you could think of.
But I wouldn't change a second of it.

Mother's Day

Let's talk, for a minute, about Mother's Day. Mother's Day is, at best, not horrible, and at worse, a total soul-crushing day of torture. (The one exception: The Mother's Day before when you're pregnant with your first child. That is a magical day). It may surprise you that I'm skeptical of Mother's Day, but I am.

This is an old Irish Mother's Day blessing, right?

  So, what's the problem with Mother's Day? Mothers with young children just want to sleep in, not be responsible for everything, and probably don't want to rush around honoring every other mother in the world. We're in the trenches. We're there-getting poo flung at us and peed on and yelled at and told that our food is gross, feeling like we can't do anything right, our house isn't clean enough, we work too hard or not enough, etc, etc, etc. Still, every year, we think that Mother's Day will be different. But it won't.

To kids it's just another day. Kids don't really care about Mother's Day because they don't understand what it's like to be a mother and they won't until they are one. Since you've become a mom, chances are that you've thanked your mom repeatedly for being a great mother-because you didn't know what it took to keep these kids fed, clothed, and keep yourself functional until you became a parent. Being a mother is amazing but terribly difficult work.

  What would be a perfect Mother's Day for me? Well, sleeping past 7, not having to shower for a while, sitting around, drinking a coffee while my kids play nicely, don't complain that they're bored or fight with each other, being able to ask once for something to be done-and having it be completed, and just, in general, being treated like a human being. Before motherhood I wouldn't have thought that was a big deal, but now, that looks like an amazing day! BEST.DAY.EVER! Now, I bet that all of the moms are nodding and smiling and there's sappy music playing in your head. Yes, that's what most of us want. Grand gestures are fantastic, but if there is nothing else it's just a day where we get a fantastic, new tennis bracelet and matching earrings. Most of us don't want to rush around and see everyone else in the world who is also a mother. Most of us just want to relax, be a little selfish, and have one day where we don't have to contort into the role that everyone else needs us to be. It's Mother's Day, right?

  So moms, call your mom and tell her you love her and that you want to thank her for being so amazing. Offer to take her out or make her lunch or dinner or whatever you want to do. It doesn't have to be on Mother's Day. If you have young kids, this day is about you. Spend it recognizing other mothers or not! The important thing is this-just lower your expectations. Mother's Day is infinitely more important to you than anyone else. That's just the way it is. They love you, they appreciate you, just try to relax and enjoy whatever the day brings. Save up all of your stories, call you BFF, and you can bond over your respective days later.

Husbands: Make or buy her a card/gift/whatever means the most to her. Tell her you love her and thank her for being your children's mother. If there's a problem intervene before everyone ends up dead.

Kids: Don't be assholes to your mom today. She is so very tired of your shit and this is one day that she will not just sweep it under the rug. That hand made pinch pot will not make up for the giant fit you threw yesterday, but a pinch pot, a hug, getting along with your sibling and not complaining about what Mom wants to do are a good start!

  Happy Mother's Day, to all of the mothers out there!

Writing, blogs, and this site

Blogging for me is very therapeutic. I find a lot of solace in sitting in front of my computer, putting my thoughts out to the world, and hoping that I can make someone laugh or make their day seem a little easier. I love this blog and even though I've gone through LONG dry spells, I really enjoy writing my posts and fooling around with my little website. I've decided to make a few changes to this blog-and make it more of a community feel. I really love social networks and message boards and have added my own to another page on here. It is a place for moms to talk, share ideas, complain, whatever. I hope that people will make use of it and that we can have some great conversations. Right now I'm just talking to myself over there-so come chat! I've also added a page for coupons.  As moms, we all need ways to save money and coupons.com is a great resource for that. Please print your coupons from here-and comment to let me know how much you saved! I'm working on some new posts and am excited for the new additions to the blog. Check out my amazing sponsors, (click here to get a coupon from Michaels) join in a conversation, print out your coupons, and let's be a community!

Running To Me

I spend a lot of time thinking about who I am.  I suppose I have to, since I'm the only one who really cares.  My husband cares about me-but not my existential questions.  He cares if I'm happy and healthy and if our marriage is working. That's really all you can ask of another person. My kids care if I show them that I love them, make their food, get them to activities, and don't yell too much.  To them, I'm simply "mom" a construct that didn't really exist before them and they're not totally wrong.
When I became a mother, I became a different person.  It didn't happen at once and it has been a really confusing road, but somewhere along the way I became Kristen 2.0...or maybe 5.0 or more.  Who knows how many different incarnations I've really had and not noticed the changes over time, but this incarnation is a big, big change.

There are many parts of this "new" Kristen that I like, and probably the best part is that I finally really love and accept my body.  I love my big butt and curvy figure.  I really like my hair.  I even like my crooked, hooked witch nose.  I love my belly and thighs and my strong arms and legs. 
This is a big deal because I have always hated and shamed myself about my body.  I was skinny in high school because I didn't eat anything but rice, salads, and drink diet soda.  I was miserable in my own skin.  I was constantly belittling myself, comparing myself to others, and so disappointed that I could never get my skin that perfect shade of tan, that I had a different body shape than in the magazines, that  my boobs never looked right-you name it, I shamed it. 
That continued into college where I suddenly started gaining weight for no conceivable reason
(it turns out that I had a pretty serious thyroid issue) and after babies when I was constantly frustrated with my body-so much so that I started devoting hours per day to working out, planning my food intake, and became obsessed and disgusted with myself because after all of that work, I still wasn't where I needed to be.  Then I gained the weight back.
Now I was totally disgusted with myself
, angry that I had let myself down, etc.  Angry that I had lost control.  Ashamed that I was the fat mom, the fat friend, the fat wife.

Last summer, I had an epiphany.  This is my body.  This is the one that I was given and the only way that I can really be who I want to be is to accept me.  That means accepting the big butt, the curvy figure, my crooked nose, my soft belly, strong legs and arms, and work with them.  I found that the parts of me that I didn't like were not problems-in fact, once I started choosing clothes to really fit my body, my perception of what I looked like completely changed.  Suddenly I could look good, feel good, wear comfortable clothes (jeans that fit a butt in them!!!!  Thank you Lane Bryant!)

Finally, I decided to exercise because I enjoy the feeling of challenging my body, not because I am disgusted by it.  Read that again.  I decided to exercise because I enjoy the feeling of challenging my body, not because I am disgusted by it.  It's true!  There is a whole different kind of exuberance that you feel when you are taking an action to get a positive result.  I went running yesterday and it was fun!  I took a selfie and I was sweaty, puffy, tired but so happy.  As I was running I thought "Wow, my legs are really strong and so are my lungs."  You know what I didn't think?  I didn't think about how disgusting my body was or how I looked or how I needed to be better and fix this now or I was a failure. 

I am so happy to have become this new version of myself, this powerful, strong, me.  I am working on getting stronger because I love this body, not because I hate what I am.  I am a mom, I am strong, I am running toward my best self, not away from someone that I am ashamed of. 

To My Children in the Future

Hello, children!  I know that the year is 2030 or after and you are grown-ass women now.  Since it's the future, I'm hoping that we have achieved hoverboard technology, you can fly your space ship to work, and you guys have figured out how to fix the climate change problem that we did nothing to remedy.  We actually thought we'd get that fixed.  So sorry about that.
So, here are a few things that present me (2015 mom who does not have a hoverboard and still has to drive a car ON THE GROUND) wants to let you know.

What is there to look forward to now that you have one of these?

1.  I'm sorry about all of the things I have done and will continue to do that really screw you up.  I know that I am doing my best but life is hard and parenting is really hard...and I don't know what I'm doing most of the time.   Dad and I are really trying to be the best parents we can be but that is a tall order and, frankly, that brings me to my next point.
2.  We're so sorry that we're so damn tired.  But here's the thing-we are.  We work hard at work and at home so there have been many times when we are just so.freaking.tired. and we can not cope.  We love you both and may be inconsistent and let you wear us down even when we should stand our ground but we are so.damn.tired.  We really are trying to pick our battles and I'm positive we've said yes when we should say no and vice versa-just know that every mistake is really coming from the best of intentions, well, most of them. 
3.  #1, my first child, "mommy's little experiment" as we sometimes joke, I am so sorry for being so overly exhuberant and probably scaring you to death with my mothering intensity.  I am an intense person-and ALL of that intensity was funneled into BEING THE BEST MOTHER for you until your sister came along.  That is 3 1/2 years of intense, winner takes all crazy and you handled it like a champ.  Thank you for being such a joyful, sweet and intuitive child and for turning out so well despite my unintentional efforts to make you a neurotic little basket case.  I'm also sorry that you see that your little sister has some different rules than you had at her different ages.  Part of this is because of item 2, part of this is due to experience.  We think that certain things are not worth fighting over-you taught us that-but it does suck and feel like she's favored.  I get it, I am an older sister, I'm swore I'd treat all of my children exactly the same but that is not always possible or necessary.  Just think-when you're a teen you'll be able to drive and she'll have to ask you for rides places and that's pretty sweet.
4.  #2, my second and final baby.  I am so sorry for being so freaking sad and weepy and weird about you.  I'm sorry it's so hard for me to say "no" to you and I'm sorry for treating you like you're older than you are.  You are so smart and sweet and talk like a much older child (because your older sister loves teaching you things) and I often forget that you are 3 1/2 years younger than your sister.  On the other hand, I'm sorry I sometimes baby you.  I'm also sorry that your baby book only has 3 pages filled out and a receipt from your 1 year well baby check while your sister has entire scrap books devoted to her first year of life. 
5.  Finally, I hope that your father and I are a good example of a healthy relationship and that you don't swear too much (just enough to make your point but not so much that you sound like a Jerry Springer guest).  I hope that you are able to laugh easily and fight for underdogs.  I hope that you are finding a purpose and can use your Minecraft skills for good.  Maybe you can help build the colony on Mars?  I hope you still love math and science and remember that smart girls are cool.  I hope that you make decisions based on hope for the path they'll lead you down instead of fear.  I hope that you'll explore the world and taste foods and see amazing things.  I hope you know how much we love you.

We look really good in our new outfits.

Most of all, I really, really, really hope that I have a freaking flying car.

HARK!!!

Holy Crap, has it ever been a rough week.  We have constantly been dealing with our sweet daughters turning into slobbering, angry, vengeful hell spawn-just antagonizing each other, fighting and causing me to turn into an evil harpy.
Finally, on the verge of a full on nervous breakdown, my husband suggested we talk about it and come up with a few words that we would like to exemplify our family.  We talked with the kids and they helped us choose the following four words:  Honesty, Accountability, Respect and Kindness.  Next, we decided to paint the words on canvases to hang in the living room.
Hopefully this will cut down on some of the fighting-if not, my next vacation might just be to a locked room with padded walls!

First, we painted our canvases with a background color and added a hand print to each one.

Next, we added our words.

We all added a little bit of "flair" to our canvas.

The finished product!