Dancer's cackles leap
Flowers chanè toward the sun
Migraine blooms
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
To the Guy Who Actually BARKED at Me...
Hotter than a fantasy, lonely like a highway
She's living in a world and it's on fire
Filled with catastrophe, but she knows she can fly away
Ohhhh oh oh oh oh
She got both feet on the ground
And she's burning it down
Ohhhh oh oh oh oh
She got her head in the clouds
And she's not backing down
This girl is on fire...
This girl is on fire...
She's walking on fire...
This girl is on fire...
To the gentleman who actually barked, yes barked, at me from his car as he drove past me on my run today:
I could have been humiliated. I could have crumbled into a tiny ball of tears and limped home. I could have decided to never run again. Instead, you made me want to tell you about me and this body you were so quick to judge and then make a public display of your disgust. While you may disparage it, I am very proud of this body, as imperfect as it is, and all it has done for me.
First off, I know I'm fat, thank you very much. My cardiologist and my nutritionist, not to mention the dressing room mirrors in many a department store have also informed me. I'm working on it and am down 10lbs.
I also know that I run slower than a baby hippo. I'm okay with that because there was a time when I didn't know if I could ever run again. You see, five and half years ago my heart tried to reach and kill me. I survived an eight hour open heart surgery. Less than 48 hours later I was being thrown out of the ICU because I was up and talking and too lucid for the nurses. I was told this never happens. I spent five days in the hospital. Eight weeks later I was running again.
This soft, fluffy, belly carried two babies long enough for them come into this world healthy and whole even when doctors warned me that despite their (an my) best efforts they could come early and need intensive care. Neither did.
This body also created a brand new human being when nobody thought it would be possible. Two years of tears, refusing to give up and trusting in my body provided me with a beautiful baby girl.
These saggy boobs provided nourishment for my daughter when she fought feeding and growing for an entire year. She's now 11, beautiful and strong.
This fat ass has dragged itself across many 5Ks. I thought the first one was going to kill me, but now I run them for the sheer joy of it and my son runs them with me, providing us both with a great feeling of accomplishment and a bonding experience I wouldn't trade for the world.
These feet that are plodding along so slowly spent five months immobilized after foot surgery. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to walk around the mall with my daughter much less run again. Part of my physical therapy was ballet. Not only did I get up and running again, my turnout is fabulous and I can even do a grand plie.
So thank you, Mr. Barker. Instead of letting you make me feel bad, you reminded me of all the things I love and am so proud of in this body and the amazing things it has done and will continue to do. I hope that in the future you are able to look past what ever you saw in me that generated such a low response and instead see all the wonderful things that a woman's body, no matter its outward appearance, is capable of, because whoever she is, I'm sure she's on fire, even if you can't see it. Until then, "Woof, woof," right back atcha!
Friday, February 21, 2014
TGI FRIDAY!
I'm Trusting that this 10 day detox my nutritionist has me on will jump start my weight loss and level out my blood sugar!
I'm Grateful for my co-workers in this crazy work place. I'm grateful we can always make each other laugh, no matter how hard the day.
I'm Inspired by the smell and feel of Spring in the air, a time of rebirth and growth. I intend to make the most of it.
What are you TGIing right at this moment in time?
Thursday, February 20, 2014
I Am Not THAT Dance Mom
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others
When tiny dancer was about eight or nine we were in the car headed to yet another dance class when she stated, very matter-of-fact, "Mom, dance is my passion. I have a gift." She is so right. There is nothing she is more passionate about than dance, and there is nothing I love more that watching her grow as a dancer. I feel that is my moral obligation as a mother to provide a safe space for her to follow her passion. I cannot, for the life of me, conceive of doing anything that would squash her passion. Which is why, for the life of me, i cannot understand the show Dance Moms.
This show is full of women who fight, say ugly things, call each other (and each other's daughter's) nasty names, and in last weeks episode assault each other. I tell Tiny Dancer I don't care how good the teacher is, or what opportunities the dance studio would provide, I would not allow her within 100 feet of such foolishness. We've had our share of dance drama. When we switched studios last September and you would have thought that we sold secrets to the Russians! We put more thought, time and energy into that decision that where was going to go to college. When Zoe was treated shabbily for leaving I was in full on Mamma Bear mode. I cannot imagine my life as a dance mom where that sort of treatment is par for the course.
It just bothers me that these women don't seem to understand what they are doing.to their beautiful dancers. They are denying the light of their daughter's passion for dance to shine. I can only imagine how hurtful this would be to dancer. Dance is still my daughter's passion, and as her light shines, so does mine. Make it shine, Tiny Dancer!
When tiny dancer was about eight or nine we were in the car headed to yet another dance class when she stated, very matter-of-fact, "Mom, dance is my passion. I have a gift." She is so right. There is nothing she is more passionate about than dance, and there is nothing I love more that watching her grow as a dancer. I feel that is my moral obligation as a mother to provide a safe space for her to follow her passion. I cannot, for the life of me, conceive of doing anything that would squash her passion. Which is why, for the life of me, i cannot understand the show Dance Moms.
This show is full of women who fight, say ugly things, call each other (and each other's daughter's) nasty names, and in last weeks episode assault each other. I tell Tiny Dancer I don't care how good the teacher is, or what opportunities the dance studio would provide, I would not allow her within 100 feet of such foolishness. We've had our share of dance drama. When we switched studios last September and you would have thought that we sold secrets to the Russians! We put more thought, time and energy into that decision that where was going to go to college. When Zoe was treated shabbily for leaving I was in full on Mamma Bear mode. I cannot imagine my life as a dance mom where that sort of treatment is par for the course. It just bothers me that these women don't seem to understand what they are doing.to their beautiful dancers. They are denying the light of their daughter's passion for dance to shine. I can only imagine how hurtful this would be to dancer. Dance is still my daughter's passion, and as her light shines, so does mine. Make it shine, Tiny Dancer!
Friday, February 7, 2014
TGI Friday
Hello from wintry Houston.
It has been in the 30s and 40s all week, which I know is not much to those still digging out in the Midwest and Northeast, but here in Houston that is Tundra weather! I'm loving it though. I may be strange but I'd much rather complain about the cold than the heat!
On this cold Friday:
I'm Trusting in this positive flow of creative energy that has recently hit me. Just going to go with it. I'm Trusting it will bring about wonderful things.
I'm Grateful during this cold snap, for warm fireplaces, smore fixings and the fact the my kids have jackets (that they hate to wear) to keep them warm, when so many out there don't.
I'm Inspired by two of my fellow bloggers who I re-connected with this week! So nice to know I'm not alone!
Please share what you are trusting in, grateful for, and inspired by!
Have a good weekend and stay warm!
 |
| Maddie says, "brrrrrrrr" |
On this cold Friday:
I'm Trusting in this positive flow of creative energy that has recently hit me. Just going to go with it. I'm Trusting it will bring about wonderful things.
I'm Grateful during this cold snap, for warm fireplaces, smore fixings and the fact the my kids have jackets (that they hate to wear) to keep them warm, when so many out there don't.
I'm Inspired by two of my fellow bloggers who I re-connected with this week! So nice to know I'm not alone!
Please share what you are trusting in, grateful for, and inspired by!
Have a good weekend and stay warm!
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Progess Not Perfection
So I started this #1000 miles challenge, but I almost didn't. 1000 miles seems like such a daunting goal, and I was positive that I was never going to be able to meet it. If I couldn't be sure that I could make the goal I wasn't even going to try.
And it is not just this challenge. If I can't run five miles I sure as hell am not going to run/walk for 30 min or even 20 for that matter. If I can't meditate and obtain Dali Lama like enlightenment than what is five minutes focusing on my breath in my own backyard going to accomplish? If I can't design the perfect on line course (a dream of mine) then I'm not even going to put it out into the universe that it is something that I want.
If I can't do something perfectly than I'm not going to even try.
As all the things I was waiting to do until I could do them perfectly began to build up, I began to feel stuck, in a state of perpetual waiting- waiting to be perfect. Sadly, I realized that this perfectionism quirk of mine had held me back and kept me from living my life.
No, I can't run five miles, but if I had kept going, pushed on, not given up, I'd probably be running 1/2 marathons by now.
If I hadn't been so worried that people would laugh, that it would be stupid, that it wouldn't be good enough...perfect... that on line class would be up and running and would have give me the confidence and inspiration to come up with how many more?
I may not reach 1000 miles by July 4, but as I was putting in my piddly (to me) two miles and wondering how I was going to reach 1000 miles two measly miles at a time, it dawned on me that two miles becomes, five, becomes ten, becomes a half marathon. If I keep putting in the miles, I will make progress, and I will be running more than two miles in July. Now I'm excited thinking about how much further I will be in July and I can't wait to see the miles I'm running.
I can't wait to see how much progress I have made, not how perfect I will be!
And it is not just this challenge. If I can't run five miles I sure as hell am not going to run/walk for 30 min or even 20 for that matter. If I can't meditate and obtain Dali Lama like enlightenment than what is five minutes focusing on my breath in my own backyard going to accomplish? If I can't design the perfect on line course (a dream of mine) then I'm not even going to put it out into the universe that it is something that I want.
If I can't do something perfectly than I'm not going to even try.
As all the things I was waiting to do until I could do them perfectly began to build up, I began to feel stuck, in a state of perpetual waiting- waiting to be perfect. Sadly, I realized that this perfectionism quirk of mine had held me back and kept me from living my life.
No, I can't run five miles, but if I had kept going, pushed on, not given up, I'd probably be running 1/2 marathons by now.
If I hadn't been so worried that people would laugh, that it would be stupid, that it wouldn't be good enough...perfect... that on line class would be up and running and would have give me the confidence and inspiration to come up with how many more?
I may not reach 1000 miles by July 4, but as I was putting in my piddly (to me) two miles and wondering how I was going to reach 1000 miles two measly miles at a time, it dawned on me that two miles becomes, five, becomes ten, becomes a half marathon. If I keep putting in the miles, I will make progress, and I will be running more than two miles in July. Now I'm excited thinking about how much further I will be in July and I can't wait to see the miles I'm running.
I can't wait to see how much progress I have made, not how perfect I will be!
Monday, February 3, 2014
#1000 Miles... Getting BACK There
So, two and a half weeks ago I got a call from the school that Tiny Dancer was running a fever and I need t com an pick her up as soon as possible. My first thought was the flu. It has been a horrid flu season here. Every shift I work there is somebody admitted for the flu. Thankfully, it wasn't the flu. After three days of watching bad daytime TV and make mountains of rainbow loom bracelets, Tiny Dancer was on the mend and started screaming that she was bored and wanted a sleep over. I declare you HEALED in Jesus name, Amen.
That is when I started sniffling and hacking all over the place. Thanks TD for sharing your cold. "Sharing is caring" was her offhand reply. Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of lying around having Gatorade and ramen served to me on a silver platter. Being a grown-up I still had groceries to shop for, meals to cook. budding prima ballerinas to get to lessons. Not to mention 40 hours worth of shifts in the ED. FML.
I muddled through, in a haze of a perpetual cold medicine hangover (is there anything worse?) until yesterday when I was finally able to spend the day in my pajamas drinking tea and overdosing on Downton Abbey.
Of course during the epidemic of 2014, I was unable to work out and unable to get any more miles toward the challenge. I plan to start off this week with my 30 kettlebell workout since it is too cold to venture outside for my run (did I mention that true winter has arrived in Houston?) I'm shooting for three kettlebell workouts a week, three runs a week, and three yoga workouts a week. I'm not giving up.
Time to hoist that kettlebell and get more miles!
That is when I started sniffling and hacking all over the place. Thanks TD for sharing your cold. "Sharing is caring" was her offhand reply. Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of lying around having Gatorade and ramen served to me on a silver platter. Being a grown-up I still had groceries to shop for, meals to cook. budding prima ballerinas to get to lessons. Not to mention 40 hours worth of shifts in the ED. FML.
I muddled through, in a haze of a perpetual cold medicine hangover (is there anything worse?) until yesterday when I was finally able to spend the day in my pajamas drinking tea and overdosing on Downton Abbey.
Of course during the epidemic of 2014, I was unable to work out and unable to get any more miles toward the challenge. I plan to start off this week with my 30 kettlebell workout since it is too cold to venture outside for my run (did I mention that true winter has arrived in Houston?) I'm shooting for three kettlebell workouts a week, three runs a week, and three yoga workouts a week. I'm not giving up.
Time to hoist that kettlebell and get more miles!
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