Tag: weightloss

Encouragement, A Little Push, And Letting Go

6 Comments

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.)

IMG_0866

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.

IMG_2883

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.)

IMG_3662

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.

IMG_3941

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.

IMG_5103

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)

6 Comments

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.

IMG_0655 IMG_56612 copy

???????????????????????????

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

1 Comment

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!

Do Gingers Have Souls????

1 Comment

This post is so far off of the topics of weight loss, getting healthy, being a better mom, and PCOS.  This is going to be a semi pissy rant. You may want to stop reading if foul language insults you in any way.

I was born a redhead.  When my paternal aunt visited in the hospital she whispered to my mom, “Don’t worry, we can always dye her hair.”  Thus began my life as a “ginger.  I did a little research into where the term ginger originated. There is a lot of bullshit floating around Google and Wikipedia surrounding the topic.

The following are a few examples of what I found:

Contrary to most people’s experience, ginger root (Zingiber officinale) is not the only ginger plant in existence. The ginger plant of Malaysia, Alpinia purpurata, is a brilliant red. In the late 18th century and the 19th century the British occupied parts of Malaysia (among other countries), and started coming into regular contact with the Red Ginger. This is the same period during which “ginger” came to mean “red-haired” or “red-plumed.” Brits were not fond of the Gaelic Celts, many of whom had red hair.  The term “ginger or ginga” took on a derogatory tone. “

Alpinia-purpurata-2

“Those whose hair is red, of a certain peculiar shade, are unmistakably vampires. It is significant that in ancient Egypt, as Manetho tells us, human sacrifices were offered at the grave of Osiris, and the victims were red-haired men who were burned, their ashes being scattered far and wide by winnowing-fans. It is held by some authorities that this was done to fertilize the fields and produce a bounteous harvest, red-hair symbolizing the golden wealth of the corn. But these men were called Typhonians, and were representatives not of Osiris but of his evil rival Typhon, whose hair was red.”

“Describing a redhead as a ‘ginger’ is actually a very old tradition (unfortunately). In ancient times, people believed that red hair was a sign that you had ‘stolen the fires of hell’, and were a witch. Since witches were rumored to use a lot of ginger in their potions and whatnot, they called any and all redheads ‘gingers’. It went out of style for a very long time but has somehow found it’s way back to present times. So maybe people should rethink their use of that word, since calling someone a ginger could have killed them centuries ago, whether you were joking or not.”

To be honest, I don’t really care where the term came from.  I’m almost positive that I don’t like it though.  The word itself is actually cute.  However, I’m beginning to hate it.  And this is probably why:

ginger1

ginger3

ginger2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And my all time favorite!

 

SERIOUSLY??????????????????????? What the hell? If someone ever kicked me because I had red hair, I’d punch them in the throat! This isn’t funny. I find no humor in it what-so-ever.

Ok Wonka, let’s discuss the theories that women with red hair have fiery tempers and are over-sexualized. I am a bit on the bitchy side and quick to get pissed off.  I don’t know if that’s because my hair is orange, I have a hormonal imbalance, or if I was just born that way.  I’d lean towards that last reason, but who the fuck knows. As for being over-sexualized… I don’t kiss and tell.

and um, her hair is not naturally that color! The drapes do not match the carpet if you know what I’m saying!

All kidding aside, Martin Luther King Day is coming up and I hope that everyone can put their political, cultural, sexual and any other type of biases aside and be nice to each other.  Because if you don’t, I may come for you in the dead of night and eat your soul!

For those of you who truly know me, you know that this post was written with a bit of sarcasm.  The term ginger doesn’t really bother me, except for the kicking part.  Redheaded step child on the other hand……

ginger4

Resolutions, shmezolutions…who needs em’

2 Comments

Who loses 3 1/2 pounds over the Christmas holiday????? This girl!!  Now, I can chalk this up to two main factors.  ONE- I don’t like ham and I have to be in the mood for chili and meatballs.  This is what my amazing mom made for Christmas Eve.  I picked at the chips and onion dip (my favorite since as long as I can remember.) Five years ago, I started hosting Christmas day lunch/dinner.  I made prime rib the first year, YUM!!! Every year since then, my husband and brothers have requested chicken and eggplant parm.  Apparently this wee little redhead lass cooks bomb Italian food.  I just don’t like to eat it.  So, you guessed it, I picked at chips and dip again.  I stayed away from the deserts, and other snackies, and I didn’t even drink.  There are 2 unopened bottles of Moscato in my fridge. At least I’m all set for New Year’s Eve!

TWO- We, like most well-meaning parents went a tad bit overboard assisting Santa financially.  Therefore, I have no food in this house, except left over Italian, and no funds to buy any more!!! (I’m kidding, I’m pretty sure we have enough money to go food shopping, so don’t worry about us Mom!)

Let’s talk New Year’s Eve.  Referring  back to the “I hate most people” statement I made in a previous blog, it should not surprise you when I say, “I hate going out on New Year’s Eve, there are too many people, making jackasses out of themselves.  I would much rather stay at home, watch my husband and son make pizza, snuggle on the couch, fight to stay awake until midnight,and ultimately pass out around 11:20PM anyway.”

I am also not a big resolution person.  Let’s face it, most resolutions are forgotten about by February 20th, give or take a week or so.

HOWEVER,this year,I am making two promises to my husband and children.  I promise to be less of a crazy person, (no offense to any actual crazy people out there who may be reading my blog.) I also promise to make healthier choices.  I don’t want to be the mom who cannot run and play with her kids, or who doesn’t get in any pictures because she’s embarrassed by how she looks. I also don’t want to be the mom who has a freaking breakdown when we cannot find a hat, the popcorn spills all over the floor, or a stain won’t come out.  (And wouldn’t you know it, while I was typing this, my sweet little girl smushed gum into our living room carpet.) I have managed to stop stressing over the debt we have accumulated.  It is what it is, and we have to deal with it. When I pay the bills, I no longer cry and worry till I make myself puke.  This is a huge accomplishment.  But, I cannot figure out how to stop buggin’ over the little things.

And yes, my children are now yelling at our pets, this insanity needs to stop!         stock photo : Mom yelling at Girl with Speech Balloons-- child-like illustration

I thought that as the little things pile up, I eventually can no longer cope and I lose it.  My darling husband pointed out to me that I cannot deal with ANYTHING anymore.  So, now the entire “Internets” (see funny resolution cartoon above!) knows what my promises are.  I encourage all of you, no, I demand that if any of you see me doing something unhealthy (stuffing my face with something greasy and yummy, or sitting around when I should be moving) or you witness me at the early stages of a flip-out over something trivial, smack me, punch me in the throat, shriek at me…for the love of God, do something!!! They say it takes a village to raise a child, but in my case it’s going to take a mob to help me calm the fuck down and lose weight!

   Luv, Col