Who Knew!

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I like yoga!

All those years I shied away from it.  I thought, how can doing weird stretches help you lose weight?

I LOVE IT!!

OK, so now’s the point where I admit to something that is somewhat embarrassing.  I ordered and have been using an exercise routine from Beach Body known as, Yoga Booty Ballet.  It’s yoga and cardio and some free weights. Aside from Billy Blanks’ original Tae Bo, I have never completed an exercise routine and liked it.  (I miss you Billy)

I know that these DVD’s aren’t going to be the answer to all of my fitness prayers.  But, they’re a great start.  I have found something that makes me move, and sweat, and makes me really focus on my body and mind. The instructors are beyond corny, there is some Rajesh Koothrappali look-alike  playing the bongos in the background, 

and there is a crew of overly happy women with wide toothy grins, following each instruction perfectly.  But I don’t care, it makes me move. Yesterday after completing a DVD  with two overly needy children and a very attentive dog (I heard at least 100 “Mom can you ____________?’s”, had more than enough assistance during raised knee crunches from my 3-year-old daughter, received 4 slobbery kisses from a bulldog while in downward facing dog, and had to take one emergency jog to the bathroom to wipe a poopy butt!) I realized that I too was smiling like a fool.

So my journey continues.  I’m eating better, I’m finally moving, and I’m starting to like myself a little bit more each day.  (Check out the newest smoothie recipe in the recipe section, it’s amaze balls!)

And if you hear someone yelling “I love yoga booty ballet!!) It’s just me…. I don’t care, I love it!

WARNING-GRAPHIC!!!!

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Yup, this about sums up my morning!

A few months ago, my period decided to take a little hiatus, extending my cycle by about a week.  Normally I wouldn’t care, however, we have a little vacation planned.  Now let me set the scene here for all of you non-parents.  A vacation with a 6 and 3-year-old is not a vacation.  It’s out of our element, away from our routine chaos! It is not fun to have your period (let alone my period) while walking around theme parks in 90 degree weather, or swimming in a river without a bathroom in sight for miles. I know this because it happened last summer.  I did my best to grin and bear it, always wondering if I was leaking, always scanning the horizon for restrooms, loading up on ibuprofen to slow my flow, and hopefully dull the pain of my exploding cyst. It sucked, but my kids had an awesome time.

So despite my horror movie of a morning, I am pleased that my body is broken. (at least for today)

Umm……Thanks PCOS?

Slow and Steady…you can say that again!

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I am officially at the lowest weight I have been since starting this “overhaul.”  I cannot really see a difference, I doubt anyone else can either.  I should have lost a lot more chub by now.  I can list a variety of excuses…(a full-time job, 2 kids, increased cyst pain, focusing on losing my hair, laziness, life) however, the truth of the matter is, I just need to try harder.

My adoring husband’s attempt at not making me feel like a total slacker, went something like this, “Well at least you didn’t gain any weight.”  Umm, thanks hon!

But I guess he’s right.  I don’t consider myself successful, but I also don’t see the past year as a total failure.

OK, now that I have addressed the weight loss progress/lack of progress, I’d like to discuss something else.  I hate the summer.  I hate the sun.  I hate the heat. I hate the humidity.  I hate sweat.  I hate the much-needed sunblock. On the other hand, my kids love being outside, swimming in the pool, running around, being kids.

  I realized a few mornings ago that I have developed some type of anxiety about going outside.  This cannot be normal or healthy.  Is this the beginning of an agoraphobia diagnosis?  I don’t think so.  I just think that I am stuck in some type of messed up rut.  I can go outside without having a panic attack, but I certainly have to psyche myself up for it.  Ever since I was younger, the heat screwed with my internal systems…I’d get headaches, my tummy would toss and turn until I finally got sick, my skin turns apple red within seconds, and so on.  I think facing those lovely side effects with two kids is what’s causing my anxiety.  I am making myself deal with this new-found psychological dilemma, so my kids can have a normal childhood.  I may have given them life, but they are saving mine.

“You’re The Prettiest Girl Ever Made”

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Tonight, as my 3-year-old daughter was doing the pee-pee dance, I rushed to help her onto the toilet. Smiling up at me, she said, “woo mom, that was a lot of work. Thanks, you’re the best mom, and you’re the prettiest girl ever made.” I cried a little. To her, I am the prettiest girl ever made. In my eyes…not so much!

I don’t think that I’m a hideous creature that should hide away in a dark, dank cave. But I would never consider myself pretty. And let’s not even mention my body image issues.

This little conversation with my darling daughter got me thinking. How does she define pretty? Does she factor in kind eyes, a friendly smile, a big heart? Whatever it is that makes up her definition of pretty, I hope it is never corrupted by her peers, the media, or worse….some boy. What will happen when she finally realizes that her views don’t exactly mesh with society’s? Will she be strong enough to hold tight to her convictions? Will she no longer see me as the prettiest girl ever made? I have all intentions of becoming healthier and more fit by then. Not to be “pretty,” but to be a positive influence in my children’s lives. So I can be around to watch them become the most amazing adults, adults who will change the world. So, my transformation is happening, slowly, but happening none the less. I have not been a very responsible eater the past few weeks, and I’m still struggling to get up an hour earlier to fit in a workout, but I know it will happen.

My heart aches when I think of my baby girl and my son having to grow up in a world so obsessed with looks. I worry daily that I passed along PCOS to my daughter, or I passed along some aspects of it to my son. Please don’t think that I don’t worry about the pressures my son will have to face, because I worry plenty. But, I have lived my life as a girl with PCOS and its appearance altering symptoms, and I know just how difficult it can be. I also know women who are considered beautiful by society’s standards and have suffered just as much as “plain” or even “ugly” women. Our culture is mean. If it were a character it would be this bitch! (Sara Michelle Gellar,Cruel Intentions)

I know that to be able to empower my daughter (and son) I need to empower myself. I am learning that my worth is not tied to my weight, or my hair! I’m learning to not hate my body so much. I’m learning how to transform it instead. I’m learning how to accept my diagnosis, learn as much as I can about it, and beat it. I’m learning to be strong for my daughter. As she grows, I will be teaching and living the following ideals, so that my daughter and my son will truly understand what makes a woman “pretty” AWESOME!

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“A Hair In The Head Is Worth Two In The Brush”

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I’m losing my hair.  I’m really losing my hair.  Lots of women say they’re losing their hair when they see extra strands in the shower or on their pillow.  My endocrinologist confirmed it for me.  My hair is falling out. Fuck you PCOS!! First you convince my pancreas to make extra insulin that my body doesn’t need, blessing me with a weight problem, then you screw with my menstrual cycle, then you rob me of my fertility and make me feel broken inside, then you decide to present me with growing/rupturing cysts each month that leave me gasping at times, then you deliver excess testosterone, causing hair to sprout up where it’s not supposed to, and now the coup de gras….you’re taking my hair.

I love my hair.  It was the only thing that ever made me feel beautiful.  I used my hair to hide behind when my weight continued to rise.  People would ask me what color dye my hairdresser used, and would scoff in jealousy when I told them it was au naturale.

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Now it’s thinning and falling out.  My doc suggested Rogain for women.  After doing some research, I’m all set (for now, we’ll see how desperate I get.) I did find a lot of helpful sites written by women with PCOS.  I am currently using a scalp treatment consisting of pure aloe vera gel, rosemary oil, and lavender oil.  It makes my hair feel amazing, but I smell like a freaking garden. I’m also taking biotin, retress, and a hair/skin/nail supplement. I have seen less hair falling out.  I’m not sure if I’m seeing any regrowth,but I’m hopeful.  I refuse to give up on myself.  I am going to take my body and my health back.  I’m tired of PCOS running the show.

It wouldn’t be a blog of mine without a period from hell reference…..

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Am I right Ladies?

photo 2Mother Nature, you Bitch!

When The World Says ‘Give Up,’ Hope Whispers ‘Try One More Time.’

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Hi, I once again have allowed fatigue and life to get in the way of my writing.  I didn’t write about the Boston Marathon Bombings.  There were plenty of news stories, blog posts, Facebook updates, tweets, and articles written.  Here’s what I have to say (the short and sweet version.)

I’m happy they caught the cowards.  I’m more than proud to be a Bostonian. I’m in awe of how the people from Boston and around the globe  validated that there are far more good people in the world than there are bad. I don’t care where the cowards came from, who their parents are, where they went to school, or how nice they were. I’d like to never hear their names again, or see their faces again.  I would like for all Bostonians to somehow always feel the sense of unity always display the courage, always offer the support, and always hold the pride that we have all experienced the last few weeks.

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“A heartbreak isn’t always as loud as a bomb exploding.  Sometimes it could be as quiet as a feather falling and the most painful thing is… nobody hears it except you.”

This past week was National Infertility Awareness Week.

Do you know the true facts about infertility? Chances are unless you’ve been affected by it yourself, you probably don’t. Even if you are affected, you may feel alone, depressed, or some how at fault for your condition when you are absolutely not to blame. Here are some basic data and statistics about infertility that you should be aware of (taken from Discovery Health and elsewhere):

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    In America alone, infertility affects over 6 million women and their partners – that’s about 10 percent of the reproductive age population. One in six couples will encounter difficulty getting pregnant and experienceinfertility to some extent.
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    Infertility is not always “the woman’s fault” – indeed, infertility affects male and female reproductive systems nearly equally. In approximately 30% of all infertility cases, there are both male and female factors causing difficulty in achieving successful pregnancy.
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    In approximately 30% of cases, the causes will remain “unexplained infertility” despite full medical work-ups and extensive diagnostic testing. This only points out the complicated nature and many causes of infertility, and how even today medical science cannot provide all of the answers.
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    There is no such thing as a “miracle cure for infertility”, despite thousands of websites and unscrupulous individuals promising such. The causes and reasons for infertility are far too numerous and different to all be “solved” by one single approach or drug product.
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    Infertility is a disease. Albeit it took until 2009 for the World Health Organization to officially define infertility as a disease. This was an important milestone in recognizing the serious medical nature of infertility and helping to bring it more recognition and hopefully governmental and scientific support.
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    Infertility is a disability. In 1998, the U.S. Supreme court held that infertility is a disability under the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). However, most insurers in the United States still provide no coverage – or only extremely limited coverage – for medical treatment related to infertility. Many of those affected with infertility have to struggle in the workplace not just to afford expensive IF treatments but to receive fair treatment and understanding if they must take time off for procedures, testing, or rest during a difficult pregnancy.

Chances are you know someone who has suffered with infertility. You do, if you know me personally. I am not going to sit here and write my own story again.  You can scroll through my archives and find it.  I will leave you with some very powerful and thought provoking quotes.

Infertility

For every woman unhappy with her postpartum marks, is another who wishes she had them.

this sums up fertility vs infertility perfectly!

Everyone’s Got To Face Down The Demons…Maybe Today, We Can Put The Past Away

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I haven’t written in a looong time, and I’m not happy about it. Unfortunately, sometimes it’s difficult to find the time to sit down and think!

I have agonized over writing this post, as it may be considered hurtful or offensive.  However, my intention is not to offend.  I hope it causes pause, and possibly sparks a discussion.

“All men are tempted. There is no man that lives that can’t be broken down, provided it is the right temptation, put in the right spot.  ~ Henry Ward Beecher“

People like to throw around words like addict and junkie.  What most people don’t know is the person behind those labels.  Every addict is someone’s mother, father, son, daughter, sister, brother, friend.  It’s easy to judge people, especially people who appear weak.  But what makes a person an addict?  How did their life take such a different turn?  Is it genetic-do the actions of family  influence one’s addictive behaviors? Is it due to a mental illness? Can it be chalked up to just” bad” choices or “bad” friends?  Is is a  reaction to some type of trauma? Addiction is so complex, too many factors come in to play

I know many people who are addicts.  They are some of the most loving, caring, “nice” people…with a problem.  But, this post isn’t really about the addict, it’s about the people who love them.  I had a conversation with my cousin the other night about how from addiction, an absolute, all-consuming selfishness grows.  It’s not an “I’m a spoiled brat selfishness,” or an “I’m entitled selfishness.” It’s a feeling or desire that no one or thing can come between the addict and getting their needs fulfilled.  It’s not done out of hate, anger, or malice.  It controls the addict and leaves everyone in it’s wake destroyed.  It clouds the addict’s ability to see themselves how others see them. It distorts reality and their feelings of love and anger and support.  It tricks them into thinking that they aren’t the one with the problem, and that anyone who thinks otherwise is betraying them.

So what is one to do when this overwhelming selfishness starts to break down families and relationships? When this isn’t happening to you, it’s easy to simply say, “just walk away.” But for those of us who have experienced the gut-wrenching pain, the pain that makes you want to throw up, cry, hit a wall, and hide all at the same time, you know it’s not that easy.  So, you have offered acceptance, forgiveness, support, and love, and still the addiction and the selfishness continues.  Is walking away an act of defeat or abandonment?

I wholeheartedly believe the answer to this is NO!  It’s an act of survival.  If people spend their entire life trying to convince an addict that they are in fact addicted and require help, what kind of life will they have had?  You don’t stop loving or supporting, but you have to start living and growing.  And to be able to do that type of “living,” without an intolerable amount of guilt, is nearly impossible, but it needs to be attempted.

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So, be supportive, be calm, set limits, and be loving, and be brave.

And live!

Encouragement, A Little Push, And Letting Go

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My soon-to-be 6 year old son is slowly driving my husband and myself to the brink. He wanted to learn karate. We took him to karate 2 nights a week for about a year and a half. He liked it, he hated it, he refused to go, he willingly jumped in the truck some nights with a huge smile. Then he wanted to quit. We were hesitant, but baseball was starting and he mentioned wanting to play. So, sayonara Sensei and hello little league. (By the way, he was quite good at karate.)

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First time up at bat and my little slugger walloped the ball. He ran around the bases with this huge smile on his face. He liked it, he hated it, he refused to go, he willingly jumped in the truck some days with a huge smile on his face. Then he wanted to quit. We didn’t let him. He was good, and baseball is a quick season.

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Then he begged to play football. Our city doesn’t have a pop warner league, so we had to sign him up in another town. He loved it until he had to wear a helmet and pads. My son has a big head, so the helmet was quite large. He’s also a “sturdy little fella” so his pads were big in some areas to accommodate room in other places. I should also add that pop warner thinks it’s absolutely necessary and acceptable to run mini camps for 5 yearold kids. My son went to football in the dead of August almost every week night for hours at a time. That’s not fun. That’s no way to introduce a sport to a fun-loving little boy. The battles to go to practices and games became epic. My son would cry and yell and make himself sick. My husband would plead, yell, and make himself sick. I would scream and cry and wonder how to fix everything. We finally decided that before we completely ruin football for him, ( by the way, this kid was made to play football) we would let him ‘quit.’ We had him speak with his coach and explain why he wouldn’t be back. It went against everything we wanted to for him, but the poor little guy was miserable. (Plus, the main coach was a wicked tool, and when my husband attempted to help coach, my son saw it as way to further complain. It was not a very positive experience.)

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However, we didn’t want him sitting at home watching T.V. all day. We signed him up for fall ball, because he asked if he could. This time around, there were definitely more smiles than tears. His coach was awesome and he finished the very short season happy.

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Then winter hit….he wanted to learn to ski. We are lucky to live about 3 minutes from a cute little mountain known for teaching kids how to ski. We signed him up. His first time out, he came down the hill and turned all on his own. The instructor was stunned. He did great. The last two lessons began with his “I don’t want to go tantrums.” But, he did complete his scheduled lessons.

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Of course, he has always stated that he wants to be a hockey player when he grows up! I think we’ll put skating off until next year, since I’m not sure how much more our hearts and patience can take.

So, how much is too much pushing? Is it a “waste of money,” when you’re trying to help your son find what he loves to do? If he’s going to be really good, shouldn’t he have started at (insert whatever sport here) already? How do you learn to force your own wants and dreams for your child aside, so they can choose for themselves?

I love watching him have fun, but why does it always turn to “not fun” so damn quickly? Why does he never feel like he’s “good enough?” Where did his confidence go, who stole it? We have always fostered it and supported him. My mom told me that I learned to read in kindergarten because “I needed to.” She also told me that I came home one day and was sad because my dinosaur didn’t look as good as the teacher’s. I locked myself in my room and perfected my drawing until my dinosaur was better than the teacher’s. I don’t want my son to give up just because he’s initially not “good’ at something,but I also don’t want him to be a neurotic perfectionist either.

PARENTING is HARD!!!!!!

I know that he’ll find what he loves, and I’ll be his biggest fan, as always!

and currently, I think he wants to be a DJ, who can play the guitar, and has a severe slap shot! IMG_5677

Said Woman Take It Slow, & It’ll Work Itself Out Fine…All We Need Is Just A Little Patience (and maybe a lil’ xanax)

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I had all intentions of writing a blog about baldness, but that will be a different story for a different day.

As we all know, I have PCOS. On my journey to motherhood, there were billions of tears spilled, numerous sleepless nights, an abundance of self-doubt and self- hatred, too many invasive tests, a great deal of physical pain, and of course a multitude of prayers. Then my babies came. I have never once since my son has been born, questioned my ability to be a mom. Even when postpartum depression hit, and believe me, it hit hard, I never questioned myself. Yesterday that all changed. I actually told my husband that I think God may have made a mistake in answering my prayers.

I am not patient with my children or my husband for that matter. I am not patient with myself. I know that my PCOS is in overdrive right now. I know that I have to take better care of myself. I realized last night that I need to start taking some time for myself, and doing things for me. Lately, I can’t wait for my two amazing, funny, loving children to go to bed. I just want to sit on the couch and watch some mind numbing TV show, so I can for 30-60 minutes, lose myself in an alternate reality, or aimlessly scroll through apps on my phone until my vision blurs.

I am a member of a PCOS support group. I read daily posts from women struggling to either become pregnant or stay pregnant. Women and their partners who have been trying for up to 15 years to be parents. I read as they break down, give up, and refuse to stop fighting. I read and I cry. How did I become so lucky? Why was I chosen to be a mommy?

It’s so easy for me to say, “Life is full of stress, stupid shit is always going to happen, money comes and money goes, don’t sweat the small stuff, they’re only kids…” Believe me, I tell myself these things all of the time. I truly want to accept these words as truths, but some dark, unhappy voice inside of me won’t allow it. I’m assuming it’s the same voice that drove me to questioning whether or not I should be a mom.

So, back to yesterday. As I sat, tears welling up, my son grabbed a tissue and put one arm around me while blotting my tears. My daughter put down her mac and cheese and climbed onto my lap and kissed my tear-stained cheeks. They had no idea that those tears were for them; that I was angry with myself and heartbroken over how I have been interacting with them. All they knew was that their mommy was sad and needed a hug. That’s the moment when my babies made me realize that I was made to be their mommy.

I am going to start to take some time for myself and not feel guilty about it. I am also going to : allow for more time (start tasks a little earlier), “be all there” (no more multitasking,) take mommy time-outs when I’m overwhelmed, remind myself how small my kids really are and how much I truly love and cherish them, yell less, lower my expectations for myself, my husband, and my kids, and lastly smile more.

a great reminder to slow down and enjoy the blessing of your children... quotes, mom quotes, being a mom

*I didn’t write this post in attempts to acquire a bunch of reassuring, supportive comments about what a great mom I am. I know that I’m an “OK” mom, who tries her best, and just gets overwhelmed a bit too frequently. I wrote this because I needed to say it. I started this blog when I decided it was time to overhaul myself. I didn’t mean only my physical appearance. I have a shitload of work to do people!!! Thanks for listening.

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How Do I Keep Life From Getting In The Way? And Do I Want To?

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I cannot begin to tell you how many times a week, I utter the words, “I hate my life right now!” I don’t really hate my life, I hate what’s happening at a particular moment in time.  I seriously need to get another catch phrase. I work with kids who have the absolute right to say, “I hate my fucking life.” I do not have that right.  I LOVE my life.  I just have poor coping skills sometimes.

For instance…there’s a blizzard a coming our way. My mind immediately went to: power outages, potential car accidents, and all sorts of unhappy thoughts. And for a nano-second, I caught a glimpse of the wonder spread across my kids’ faces as my daughter realizes that the snow will most likely engulf her entire body, and as my son’s imagination runs a muck as he envisions snow battles with my husband,complete with forts, tunnels, and copious amounts of flying snowballs! But then the dread crept back in, forcing all of the happy images out.  WHY?!?!?!? I understand that as an adult, I have certain responsibilities and with those responsibilities come certain worries/concerns.  How do other people keep those concerns at bay and enjoy life?

The other night, my husband hugged me and said, “I’m sorry there’s so much going on in your life right now.” I had to think about that for a minute.  Work is stressful at times.  It will always be. It’s work! My family has some stuff happening, but all families have their issues, and we’ll get through ours with some yelling, some crying, and a shitload of love and support.  I have PCOS, I will always have it. I need to control it better so it stops controlling me.  My kids are kids.  I need to let them be and worry about cleaning, laundry, and other crap when they’re asleep! I need to enjoy my children’s childhoods.  I’m not minimizing the stressors in my life, however, they could be so much worse!

Life is hard sometimes.  Some days it literally sucks huge balls. But isn’t that part of life? In case you’re pondering that question, STOP!!!! The answer is, OF COURSE!!

But not these big!   : )

    Unfortunately, I have allowed stress to interfere with my weight loss.  I haven’t gained anything, (except period weight, which always leaves when that angry bitch vacates my uterus!) but I haven’t lost any lb’s lately either.  Time to re-focus! And here’s just a reminder to all of you who are supposed to be yelling at me when you see me stuffing my face hole with unhealthy goodies; your silence is helping no one!!

Stay warm, and enjoy the blizzard!