my future's so bright i gotta wear shades

bright and early this morning, some strange looking dude arrived to install my new dishwasher. (yippie!!). he had a crucifix tattoo on his forehead. i found it oddly fascinating.

i wonder what would inspire him to do such a thing to his face. does this crazy looking dude have a family? people who love him and make him feel safe? i feel like i want to take him in and be his friend and fix his face.

lately, i've been feeling overwhelmed with gratitude. i have a whole new life ahead of me & none of it would be possible without the help i've received along the way. and continue to receive....

my friends and family have supported me whole heartedly and i hope they know how much it has meant to me.

as i simplify my life, things are really coming into focus for me. so many lessons learned in such a short period of time. i should write a book now that i'm so wise! i'll call it "how to turn 40 without making a bunch of dumbass mistakes". I"ll be rich!

i look over at my boys: one boy sitting in the giant dishwasher box building something out of q-tips, the other boy chasing the cat around with something in his hand....nailpolish?! not sure if it's for the cat or for the kid, but either way, i love my life. i love my boys and i love my peeps.

ch-ch-ch-changes

funny thing about change. we spend so much time trying to avoid it, but when it catches up with you, you realize it's not so bad. it tends to jostle you out of your "normal" and force you to find a new way of thinking. sometimes, that's not such a bad thing. just because things are difficult does not mean that they are wrong.

there is no point in wishing for a different outcome, or second guessing any decisions made along the way. a 17 year marriage is quite an accomplishment these days, and i don't regret one second of it.

i know i'm strong enough to stand on my own two feet. and, with the help of my family and wonderful friends, i will overcome the fear of the unknown.

that having been said, it's still pretty scary stuff.

i've found myself begging friends to help me do things like put up pictures, hook up the wireless internet, and fix any and everything mechanical. yesterday, when the boys were with doug, a gigantic cockroach came charging out of the laundry room. figured the cat would capture it for me, but he was worthless......these are things i'm going to have to learn to do on my own.

not sure which tasks will be the most difficult for me. bug killing? cooking? juggling work and family? eventually, i will master them all. plus a few extras just for fun :)

toenail fungus and other summer experiences

school has been out for 24 days. 24 long, hot days. for the kids, this means 24 days of swimming, riding bikes, sleeping in, bickering, and finding new and unusual ways to drive me batty. for me this means sleeping in, breaking up fights, making millions of grilled cheese sandwiches, and going to publix as often as possible to escape the chaos.

we've already had some big adventures this summer. we've been to the beach and to a couple of out-of-town lacrosse tournaments. and, white water.....

this is the first year we have purchased season passes. i've avoided it for several reasons. but, if i'm going to be perfectly honest, i'm grossed out by the place. white water is another dimension - that just happens to be 15 minutes from my house. i have no idea where most of these people are coming from, but it is apparent that they are not concerned with their appearance. or their hygiene. it's hot in atlanta, and i totally understand the desire to wear as little clothing as possible. however, some of the clothing choices leave very little to the imagination....

sometimes i'm just not quite sure where to focus my eyes. i try to avoid staring at the over-sized bodies stuffed into under-sized bikinis....so i let my eyes wander.....down.....and then i remember....NEVER, EVER look down at white water! hideous, massively disgusting feet at every turn. toenail fungus the likes of which i have never experienced in all my almost 40 years. if it wasn't so icky, it would be fascinating.

i'm a bit of a germ o phobe. this just adds to the multitude of challenges we face at white water. the first time we went, i decided to try out the lunch options. i bathed the kids and myself in purell, and we headed over to the burger place. after waiting in line for 45 minutes and throwing $42 on the counter, we found a spot to sit down (no shady spots left, so we sat on the surface of the sun) and bit into our burgers. BLECH! i think my kids would have preferred brussel sprouts. the fries were good though :)

this having been said, we will be returning this week. now that i know the food is awful and the feet are heinous, i can plan accordingly. it is summer after-all. and it's worth the ick to be able to sit in the shade with my kindle for a few hours....

sometimes the right thing still feels wrong

recently, it became necessary for me to say goodbye to a friend who i thought would be in my life forever. for me, it feels like a divorce. although i know the "break-up" was absolutely the right move, i'm fighting some very conflicted feelings.

as i've worked through these feelings the past several days, i've thought about relationships both good and bad. positive and negative. we all have them. why do we hang onto relationships that are toxic? friendship should be easy and fun. our friends should be the ones who lift us up and make us feel special. life is hard. and short. we should embrace the positive and cut out the negative whenever possible.

i'm the kind of person who hangs onto people for life. some might call it loyalty, some might call it desperation. whatever the reason, i'm not used to ending relationships.

so, if i know it was right, why does it feel wrong?

love hate and pralines

tomorrow the kids and i head down to tybee island. we take this trip at least once per year. the kids love fishing off the pier on tybee. i love sitting and looking out at the ocean. we spend the first couple of days on the beach, and when everyone is sufficiently crispy, we take a day to go into savannah.

for me, this is always a trip down memory lane. for them, it's torture worse than death. i bribe them with pralines as i point out my old high school, my old house, all my friends houses, the synagogue where we were married, the bench where i had my first kiss, my favorite chinese restaurant (now a dry cleaner), favorite deli which served my favorite grilled cheese sandwich, the curb i tripped over and broke my toe, the hospital where my dad died, the mall, my favorite taco bell, favorite gyro wrap (now called great wraps - not sure why?), my grandparents old house, the gas station that sold me beer when i was 15 (i leave that part out of my narration), the parking meter i always parked by because it was always broken, the seafood restaurant with the really, really good hushpuppies, .....and the list goes on and on....

we always make a trip to bonaventure cemetery where my dad is buried. it is one of my favorite places in the world. huge oak trees hanging heavy with spanish moss and old, old grave stones overlooking the marsh. we usually spend the first 10 minutes searching for the grave site (i swear they move it around to mess with my head). by this point we're dying from dehydration and heat stroke. when i return from the car with the water, i find that someone has been kicking dirt on someone. then find out that the dirt is really a fire ant mound. screaming ensues. followed by crying. so, we leave. good times. always glad to spend quality time in what should be such a peaceful place.

on the way back to the beach i always wonder why i bother. but then i remember. i bother because it's my history. hopefully one day they will bring their own families on tours of their childhoods and their kids won't give a crap either. that's love, right?

at least i have arms

When something bad happens, i usually try to make myself feel better by thinking of others who have it much worse. Then i can say "it could be worse, right?" I never have much trouble finding tragic and pathetic stories to cheer me up.

This strange ritual dates back to a sad and funny day circa 1990. I was eating in the UGA cafeteria with my two bff's Molly and Mary Frances. While we were laughing and goofing around, someone swiped my wallet from my backpack. As we were riding the bus back to our dorm, I realized my wallet was missing. I fell apart. Cried, whined, complained etc.....the girls tried unsuccessfully to comfort me. Unbeknownst to us, someone was listening in on our conversation. Across the aisle, there was a boy about our age with two prosthetic arms. I think the 3 of us noticed him at the same time, and for a moment, we were all silent - lost in our own thoughts. After a short while, Mary Frances said: "at least you have arms". It was so sad and so poignant that I laughed and cried and tears streamed down my face.

20 years later, when dealing with stresses both large and small, I am taken right back to that boy on the bus. Sometimes it's so easy to lose sight of the big picture and forget that everyone has challenges in their lives. And I'm often amazed by the strength and resilience of the people in my life. As I'm faced with fear and uncertainty, I'm going to try to remember that when all else fails, at least I have arms.

put that thing back where it came from (or so help me)

WARNING: men, do not read this post. this is for the girls.....if you continue past this point, you might want to gouge out your eyes.

"put that thing back where it came from (or so help me)".....i stole the quote from one of my all-time favorite movies: monsters, inc. however, i am speaking about something entirely different. my uterus.

back in may, i had a hysterectomy. sadly, it was medically necessary. and at the time, i was thrilled to have found someone to take my pesky uterus away. good riddance! it caused me nothing but pain and i had no use for it anymore anyway.....at that point i was prepared to remove it myself with a kitchen knife and a whole lot of extra strength tylenol.

the surgery was not a problem. and recovery was a breeze. my ovaries were left intact in hopes that would delay the onset of hormonal issues. sadly, my ovaries decided they were angry and went on strike.

soon after, i started gaining weight and my hair began to fall out and i turned into a raging psycho bitch from hell. something had to be done about it. that's when i started my hormone replacement journey.....

estrogen patches, creams, pills etc....one pill worked for a while then stopped working. one never worked at all. one gave me acne, gray hair, and 5-10 extra pounds. and boobs the size of a vw bug. oy. i've had friends tell me about having great success with natural remedies. i've had friends tell me they're tough enough to get through menopause with no hormone replacement therapy at all. (kudos to them. i'm a wimp)

i'm willing to try just about anything that will release me from this rollercoaster.

if any of you are considering a hysterectomy, here are few things your doctor probably won't tell you. if you're lucky, you will escape all or most of these......

1. fat will find you. you can't run and you can't hide. suck it up and get some spanx.

2. if you had 4 or 5 stray gray hairs before surgery, you will have 400 or 500 within 6 months.

3. you better find a good moisturizer because your skin will soon resemble lizard skin.

4. sleeping pills will become your new best friend.

5. find some breathable night clothing. or, build an igloo.

and don't get me started on the memory loss and mood swings.

good thing women are so wonderfully resilient. that's why men don't have periods or babies. they would miss one week of work per month if they did. cowering on the couch with heating pads and overdosing on midol.

if i had it to do over, i would have made the same decision. but perhaps if i had taken the time to educate myself a bit more about the side effects, i would not be such a whiny baby about it now.....

gefilte fish and milano cookies

to my grandmother, a milano cookie was a treat fit for a queen. she kept one bag hidden in the very back of a cabinet behind the playing cards and fancy china. as a child, i didn't understand or care about expiration dates, but looking back, i can guarantee those cookies were way past their prime. one cookie each was all we were allowed. and she knew how many were in the bag.

in order to earn one of the coveted cookies, we were expected to eat a fair amount of whatever was placed in front of us. no arguments.

if we were lucky, she might offer us egg salad, or "onion salad" as she liked to call it.....probably because the ratio of scallions to eggs was about 10 to 1. but if we were unlucky, the offerings would be tongue (cow tongue), white fish, or gefilte fish. in case you don't know, gefilte fish is a poached fish ball made from some kind of disgusting stinky fish - in a jar with some other disgusting fish smelling gelatinous substance. personally, i would rather eat cat vomit.

as a 10 year old with an intense desire for cookies, i devised a plan to obtain said cookie without ingesting even one bite of fish. stealthily, while adults were deep in conversation, i placed fish (or other offensive food) in my napkin and wadded it up.......then, stepped into the kitchen and tossed napkin behind the refrigerator. i repeated this many, many times over the years without any remorse. and, as far as i knew, without discovery. years later, after my grandmother died and my grandfather was moving into a retirement home, i remembered the gefilte fish scam and checked behind the refrigerator. nothing but dust bunnies. is it possible they knew all along?

i think about this just about every time i see gefilte fish in the grocery store.....and i think of my grandmother. and i wonder if she knows there are DOUBLE chocolate milano cookies now?!

friends with benefits

when running on the treadmill, i usually try to busy my brain so that i don't hurl. this morning, while trying not to hurl, i was thinking about friends.

friendship is very, very important to me. i'm loyal (sometimes too loyal) and i tend to hang onto people forever and ever and ever! (abandonment issues...)

but, when i really give it some thought, i realize that each friend has a purpose. (a benefit so to speak)

some friends fall into the "fair weather friend" category. these are the friends who are fun and make you laugh and are always up for a good time. these friends often don't stick around when the going gets tough. if you want a running partner or a lunch date, they're in. but if someone dies or gets cancer, they put the petal to the metal.

next we have the "boost your self esteem" friends. these are the friends you call when you realize your jeans are too tight (WAY too tight?), or your kids and/or husband are pushing you over the edge. these friends know how to comfort and lighten the mood. they know how to listen and know just what to say. always important to have one or two of these in your friend repertoire!

another wonderful sort of friend is the "tried and true". this one has been around long enough to read your moods before a word is even said. this friend has stuck by you through good and bad, fat and skinny, hormonal and downright bitchy. this friend can make you pee your pants from laughing and shares your tears when you're down. whether it's a pedicure or a root canal, this friend is just happy to come along for the company.

last, but certainly not least, is the "old friend". these are the ones who applied your baby oil so the two of you could fry yourselves on the driveway. the ones who helped you master the art of hair feathering, breastfeeding cabbage patch kids, and perfect application of blue eyeshadow....years and years can go by between meetings, and you can pick up just where you left off. (minus the baby oil).

i am blessed with a friend or two in each category. and honestly, my life is so much richer than it would be without them. sometimes we get all wrapped up in our lives and forget to tell people how much they mean to us. today, take a second to share your feelings with someone important to you. believe me, they will appreciate it :)

ode to guacamole

i've been cursed with a love for guacamole that is so profound, only intensive therapy could save me. or maybe food poisoning....

i have not met a guac that i don't love. however, i prefer the chunky ones with lots of tomatoes and big hunks of avocado. sometimes, i skip the chips and eat it with a spoon.

there is a mexican place close to our house called laredo's. their guac is just beautiful. on sundays, they have an all-you-can-eat buffet. ordinarily, buffets really creep me out. (germaphobia) but on their buffet, there is a gigantic bowl of guacamole. fresh, and always replenished. first thing i do when we arrive is grab a soup bowl and fill it to the brim. they have stopped looking at me like i'm an alien. they probably know my car by now and start preparing extra when i pull into the lot.

this one hour of pure unadulterated guacamole consumption is probably my favorite hour of the week. a close second is the wednesday body combat class....

when i go to body combat, i throw all caution to the wind. i stand in the back so i can kick and punch like mad without knocking anyone's teeth out. i jab-cross like i'm fighting for my life. i picture the meanest person i've ever met - like the boy in 7th grade who pushed me out of my desk onto the floor while the whole class laughed - and i fight to the death. i know i look like an idiot....but i FEEL like rocky balboa.

i'm addicted to the endorphins. some people say they don't believe in endorphins. i think those people have never pushed themselves hard enough physically to feel the "rush".....once you've felt it, you know. endorphins are a beautiful thing.....maybe one day i'll figure out how to eat guacamole while doing body combat.

rpm and other torture techniques

rpm is a les mills indoor cycle class. it stands for raw power in motion. i'm starting to think it should stand for really painful madness. i (along with 4 other instructors from my gym) recently went through a rigorous 2 day training to teach rpm.

i have to say i have a new respect for rpm instructors. it's a hard class! and even harder to teach. the instructor has to memorize very detailed choreography (when to sit, when to stand, when to add and subtract tension on the wheel etc....) for a 50 minute class. in order to be officially certified, we have to video ourselves teaching the class and send it in for critique. if it's not perfect (or close), we have to do it again.....

now, that having been said, there are many instructors who can master this in no time flat. it is aerobics after-all, not medical school. i can memorize choreography and lyrics quite well. i know every song lyric to every song from 1981-1989....i know every word from every john hughes movie from beginning to end.....if only i could empty my brain of all that garbage so i could fit some new stuff in there....

my problem is my rhythm. i don't have any. none. zero. nada. i couldn't locate a beat if it hit me with a sledgehammer. up until now, i've been teaching "free style" cycle. when the music is fast, we pedal fast. when the music is slow, we pedal slow. sadly, that's not going to work for rpm. not only do i have to hear the beat, i have to FEEL it.

today we had our first official rpm practice. it was so awesome. the class is really upbeat and has great music. i'm super excited to teach it! but first, i must learn it. i even caved and finally bought some cycle shoes. i REALLY wanted to buy a drop dead gorgeous B. Makowsky satchel, but alas, that was not to be....

I'm ready to take it on....really ready. i will practice, practice, practice until i get it right! sore bum be damned :)

REALITY BITES

disclaimer: this first post has nothing to do with eating OR exercising. sorry. i won't be offended if you choose to stop reading now.....

i don't really know how to blog. this will become painfully obvious by the end of this post. can't really form any cohesive thoughts for any length of time....but i will try...here goes:

coming down from the high of a wonderful beach vacation with super fun girls.....well, it kind of sucks. i'm thrilled that i was able to have the experience. however, after 4 days away, i have a very long to-do list and a house that looks like a war zone. and, it's cold.

i attempted to quickly put things back together last night after i returned. did not plan for chewed gum under the couch. or a dehydrated cat. i am most grateful to my husband for keeping the laundry going, dishes clean (for the most part) and for keeping the kids alive. i realize this is much more than most husbands can or will do so their wives can go to palm beach and party like it's 1999.

when the alarm went off this morning i thought it was a practical joke. after 7.5 years of elementary school, i still can't believe how early it starts. and they expect me to have the kid fed, clothed and relatively stink-free?! ridiculous. i have a great school fund raising idea: a program before school for busy (or lazy) parents.....drop your kid off naked, hungry and smelly. for a fee, they will wash, cloth and feed him/her. they would make thousands!

as the afternoon turns to evening, i'm contemplating dinner and evening activities that include dinner prep, homework, sports and boy scouts. as any mom knows, no evening is compete without homework hassles, screaming matches between siblings, complaints about the dinner menu, etc. my crankiness is certain to escalate as the evening progresses......and to make matters worse, i'm in full blown detox. my jeans are not fitting quite like they did before the week long snowcation, and then vacation....i have two choices: new clothes or detox. i'm choosing the latter only because my jeans are really expensive.

as i ease back in to reality, i'm very thankful that bedtime is not too far off.......