I Give Up

There are days where I just give up. I’m not what everyone wants me to be. I’m not what I expected of myself. Becoming a mom changed my life so drastically, so quickly, so devastatingly that I’m still, now merely adjusting to the ever-changing pattern that is my new life.

I watch other parents enjoying their children. Talking about their routines and how their kid sleeps through the night at 5 months. I look at my kid, food splattered, fussy, squirming. They see the bags under my eyes. They see the trouble I have catching my breath. Behind these tired eyes is a brain that has not stopped calculating things since it was awoken from its bare minimum level of sleep.  It’s risk analyzing, compromising, and falling short.

There are so many different things to measure up to today. My baby eats foods I didn’t mash myself, non-organic veggies and formula. That makes me a bad mom, right? My kid has “screen time” and I don’t always “engage” with her. That makes me a bad mom, right? I lose my temper when she’s been screaming for 30 minutes and I can't figure out why. That makes me a bad mom, right? I never cook anymore, my laundry is in baskets and not folded and put away, my house is a minefield of toys and random baby things. That makes me a lazy mom, right? I choose some days to nap with my child (who only gave me 4 hours of sleep the night before) instead of cleaning my house or doing the dishes. That makes me a lazy mom, right?

I watch my non-children friends go to bars, events and they still invite me. I almost always back out unless it’s kid friendly. Why? We don’t have any family near by. We have no form of “free” babysitting. Whatever event you’re inviting me to it may only be $20 to attend but you need to tack on $50-$60 for babysitting.  This addition pretty much prices me out of being able to go to your event. Plus add on the guilt of leaving my child and add on that I’m still somewhat breastfeeding (what I can produce) so I won’t drink. 

Social media is a joke. It’s not Mother’s Day unless you post about it. It’s not your anniversary unless you announce it. I see people doing cleanses, special diets and posting recipes. Half the time I’m eating some reheated crap over the kitchen sink while my child throws food at me and you want me to switch to Paleo? You think I should try this diet that requires I spend money I don’t have on products or only organic foods or only meat free from hormones? I don’t have time to boil veggies and mash them down into palatable food for my child but you think I have time to make a smoothie for myself ? Or meal prep? Or cook and eat only free range chicken on a bed of organic roasted vegetables? Those that do have diets that they actually stick to I applaud you. Right now if I get any food in my gullet I see it as a win. 

My other mom friends are battling their own routine issues or are working moms equally exhausted at the end of the day or are stay at home moms doing outings while I’m at work and unavailable once I’m free. Some moms seem so much more settled in life than me. They have careers and make decent money while I’m still struggling in the dirt rubbing my two pennies together.  Their children seem to make sense and are almost rational human beings. They have a bedtime routine that works. They don’t have the panic behind their eyes that I do.

There is this insane amount of pressure and new mom guilt. An over abundance of  “do this not that.” A weird amount of comparing one mom to another. This mom is already working out and running marathons. Maybe you should get off the couch. This mom still cooks dinner every night. Maybe you should time manage better. This mom doesn’t leave the house without her hair washed. Maybe you should get up earlier to clean yourself up. Good for those mom. Here’s what I’ve figured out: It’s okay to give up on what is “expected” of you.  To give up on your home looking perfect. To give up on friends that don’t understand the new stress you’re under. To give up on being anywhere on time.  To give up on pristine outfits. To give up on seeing the new releases in the theaters. To give up on being the perfect mother. There is no such thing. 

It’s not okay to give up on your kid or your path as a mother. There is no one correct way to raise a kid and no two kids are exactly alike. You go into parenting with the absolute best intentions and you somehow, someway make exceptions. Give up on whatever you need to so you can adjust your focus to what truly matters now: that screaming rebel child that wants you to pick her up.

First Mother's Day

I wasn't sure how this day was going to hit me. Would I be overcome with emotions? Would I be sad? Would I be happy? It was hard to tell. Mother's Day is a loaded phrase for me. Last year, when I was 5 months pregnant my husband tired to make it special for me. I was wracked with fear. I didn't believe I would get to meet this baby growing inside of me. I was certain this thing that I wanted so badly was going to be ripped away from me. I thought about my mother and tried in vain to remember what I did for her the last Mother's Day she was breathing.

On September 27th, 2015 at 22 minutes before midnight, Naneki came screaming out of me. I was so very happy I got to meet this little version of Tim and I. When I lost my mother at 13 to a slow leak brain aneurysm, I told myself if I ever had a girl I'd name her after my mom, Nancy who went by Naneki. Tim and I were told we couldn't have kids and after a year of attempting just that feat we were starting to believe our doctors.

Naneki's due date was September 26th. At first I didn't think much of this date. Then my older sister said "How great would if be if she was born on mom's birthday?" It took me a minute to register, to remember. My mom's birthday was September 27th, 1947. The day I went into labor, my father, who flew in from Hawaii, was actually in Seattle attending my uncle's memorial. My best friend, Francie was in Sacramento for a wedding and my Mother-in-Law was certain I'd be late and wasn't able to get out of work early to leave Boston. I knew. I knew she was going to come on my mother's birthday. It was just so cosmically obvious. I also knew it would be while everyone was out of town.

Here I sit, holding my 7.5 month old daughter, who has my mother's name, who was born on my mother's birthday and I can't help but feel grateful. Nene has not been an easy child. Not by a long shot. While perfectly and beautifully healthy, she has had a laundry list of issues. She fights sleep like she's some kind of opponent in a Rocky Balboa film. In the early months, her gas and acid reflux made her scream for hours on end. I was very scared to leave my house with her. Things have mellowed out a bit in the last month or so. She's developing like crazy crawling, pulling herself up to standing, experimenting with free standing and relying on balance. She talks, she mimics, she fake sneezes and coughs. She actually smiles and laughs these days. Something we didn't see much of in the few breaks from the screaming when she was a newborn.

My husband is in the kitchen making me breakfast. My dogs are nestled beside me. I hold my daughter tightly and all I feel is thankful. Life could be so much worse. While I don't have my mother physically with me anymore, I can look back on how she handled us 4 girls. I can pull from those memories and carry on those odd songs, those silly responses to questions and that loving attitude. I don't know if every Mother's Day I will feel this appreciative. I'm pleased that this year, my first year, I'm able to reflect and enjoy my trials and tribulations as a mom. Maybe next year I will be sad and remember my mom or I will be stressed out and missing the point. This year. This year, though. I am happy that I have had the opportunity to be mom to this squealing, screaming, laughing ball of me.

Happy Mother's Day to all you veteran moms, first time moms, short lived moms and grandmas. You're more important to someone than I think you'll ever realize.

Allow Me to Explain

It was becoming my life’s motto. Allow me to explain why I don’t follow the career I want. Allow me to explain why I can’t afford to travel. Allow me to explain why I can’t go out with you to dinner. Allow me to explain why my shoes have holes and my pantry is empty and my bills are overdue. Sometimes there isn’t really an explanation it’s just a stall tactic to buy me some thinking time before the pity wave washed over me like warm piss. Often times, no one is judging me at all. In my mind, though, I read things that don’t exist. Every mouth twitch, every time someone looks away. I read into it what I secretly fear.

In truth, I shouldn’t have to explain any part of my life to anyone, including myself. I shouldn’t need to defend that I work sometimes 60 hours a week and still can’t pay my bills. I shouldn’t have to explain that while my life is not what I expected it doesn’t mean it’s not fulfilling. I don’t make a career with writing, like I always dreamed I would. I can’t afford the high quality products I want and in some cases need for health reasons. I work two jobs that are not fulfilling. My body is not physically where I’d like to see it. My diet is on occasion an oral exam on chemical warfare. My husband and I will probably not be able to have children. My home is in an almost constant state of half-done chores. There’s always dishes in the sink, piles of laundry, dirty carpeting, cobwebs, pet hair tumbleweeds, a ring around the tub. I mean really, I can continue.

At the end of the day, I’m still happy. Despite my bitching, my “first world problems,” my  menial complaints. I’m happy because I suck breath in and out. I have a loving husband. I have my ridiculous pets. I have my exercise keeping me sane. I have a house to go home to. I have friends who check in on me. I have a car almost fully paid off. I have a family.

If you are living the life you’ve always wanted, congratulations not everyone works hard enough to do so. I know I didn’t. I am scared of risks. I am scared of no safety nets. I am terrified of life a bit I suppose. I’m a person with an irrational fear of birds and doorknobs. I’m a person who builds ants to monsters in her mind. I’m a mad scientist with fears. Yes, I could abandon my ship and work hard to live the life I think I’m destined. Life is what you make of it. I’m happy where I am. I will always strive to be better. I will perpetually make excuses that never need to be uttered. Perhaps someday I will look at my successful, smart friends without envy but as equals. People work hard for their lives. They do all they can for what they have etched out in hard work, risks, dreams and love.

Let me explain why I’m okay. Let me explain why I love to laugh. Let me explain how much I love the sun. Let me explain why I’m great.

So Be It

Thank you all for the love, encouragement and support with my “The Smaller Version of Me” post. However, the bottom line is it doesn't matter how you see me; it matters how I see me. That post was not intended to show me sitting on the end of a dock, with a bucket of worms and throwing a lure into the waters of the Internet. It was me, being honest with me.

I've accepted I will probably not get below 185. I’m okay with it. I've given up hope on it. In the grand scheme of life that is not the number that matters. It doesn't mean I’m going to diminish my physical activities. It doesn't mean I’ll stop my work out routine. It doesn't mean I won’t try new things in the future.  

I am no longer looking for ways to “lose weight” or “trick my body” or become someone I’m not. This is what my body wants this is what my body gets. I have far too many other things stressing me out than the number on the scale. I’m going to throw out the scale. Screw the scale. That being said I’m not accepting advice on products or what might work. I don’t care if it does work. I've accepted myself; given me some much needed TLC and mirror pep talks. I've accepted my little beer belly, my cellulite thighs, my somewhat jiggly arms and in fact admire them. They’re me. A part of me that I may never change and that is okay. I’m done trying. I've been this weight and this shape for a year. It’s done. I’m moving past it.

All that being said I follow several blogs/women on ye olde Facebook – “This is Not a Diet - it's your life.” She lost 124 pounds – no pills, rules, plans, shots, surgery or supplements and has kept the weight off for 3 years. “Go Kaleo” She lost 80 pounds and is now a personal trainer and a nutrition and weight management coach. “Fit Mama Training” She lost a total of 90 pounds and grew with her body to love and nourish it. These ladies are great and inspirational and honest. However they all have weight loss stories.  Not everyone (read: ME) has a happy weight loss story that has catalyzed their healthy life and body acceptance. So what about the rest of us? I know I’m not as famous as these women but I've toyed with the idea of creating a Facebook page for the rest of us.

What that means is there are a lot of frustrated women who can’t lose weight for whatever various reasons. While the women above offer great advice about loving and accepting your body, their bodies have gone through massive changes. It’s hard for some of us to take that advice when the scale hasn't budged in a year. I want to create a safe haven where people can vent about whatever their health issues or weight issues or food issues are and vent to someone who’s stuck like them versus someone who has lost basically their unborn twin that was living inside of them. I have a special diet for medical reasons it would be a place for anyone to share recipes for their particular special diets, share motivational images or ideas or just to say “hey, I walked a mile today, haven’t done that in a while.” I love following those 3 women but I have no weight loss story and yet I’m inspired by myself. I think I’ll take a poll on whether you think I should do this or if it will just be another page lost in the hogwash of Facebook.  If you've made it this far, respond via comments on here or Facebook or even MFP. Once again thank all of you for the support, love and advice but I've accepted myself you should too. 

No, I refuse (to feel bad for my choices)

Fitness and health are still in the forefront of my mind, why? Because it’s EVERYWHERE. We are constantly being reminded (except for most restaurant commercials) that we are fat and lazy. Online it’s a series of “research results” and “motivational images” telling us what we SHOULD look like and that we can only ACHIEVE this body or our ideal weight by following their plan or tips or reading this research paper on how too much of this causes that.

The constant yammering of what our bodies should look like, what we should be eating and what we should be doing to maximize our weight loss has driven me quite mad. Especially because what we should be eating CHANGES almost daily and for those on a budget apparently we’re just shit out of luck. Just because we can’t afford organic or the high end “specialty stores.” 

I’m here to say “Nay.” What you put in your body is more important to me than exercise as far as being healthy goes. My reason for placing nutrition above exercise is because we have direct, sometimes immediate, reactions to food. For instance, my body doesn’t process red meat, doesn’t mean I don’t absolutely love London Broil, Teriyaki Beef and Kalbi ribs; however, if I don’t take Imodium before eating meat I have a 30 minute window to find a bathroom and lock myself in it for the next 3 hours. I wish I was exaggerating. Food is your most important ally in getting healthy with a side of losing weight. You could burn 1,000 calories a day but if you’re eating cake, cookies, milkshakes, chips, fried chicken and whatever else every day that spare tire probably won’t go anywhere and if it does I’d like to have your genes, please. 

What I eat tends to determine my mood. When I eat crap, I feel like crap. When I eat better, I feel better. I understand why most people say organics are the way to go; it doesn’t get any “healthier” than that. BUT, people have families (or sometimes just a husband who will say nay to double the grocery bill for less food), people are rubbing their pennies together these days, I know I am. Running out and spending even the same amount of a normal grocery bill on smaller organic fruits, veggies and meats, really isn’t an option. 

I shop at Wal-Mart. Yeah, I said it. I’m not afraid to say it. I’m a little embarrassed because Wal-Mart is like the black hole of ethics, but I shop there because I can afford it. I shop at the Commissary because it’s tax free and I shop at Albertsons or IGA when I forgot a small ingredient for dinner or ran out of baby carrots or desperately need bananas. I also shop at the Farmers Market, Trader Joes and Central Market. The later places are pricey and so end up being more of a treat or for specific items. One trip to Central Market we ended up dishing out $150 for beer, ahi tuna steaks, tortillas and a few snacks. It got real. Our Farmer’s Market features organic pork. I will dole out $25 for a pound of ground pork and a somewhat smaller-than-what-I’d-get-at-Wal-mart pork butt. That pork is absolutely delicious, the taste is amazing. But for the most part, yes I buy meat, veggies and fruit at Wal-Mart and guess what? I still lost weight, still feel better, still eat healthier and am full and happy. If you can afford the organics, good for you! For the rest of us, don’t feel guilty for buying what you can where you can. Read the labels of what you’re buying, compare and contrast different products, note the pros and cons, wash your veggies and fruit thoroughly. I clip coupons to be able to buy name brands and bring my costs down, but I also succumb to Wal-Mart’s Great Value brand. Their granola bars are cheaper and have less sodium and even carbs than Quaker. Yes, it makes shopping a longer process vs. walking into a specialty store or Farmers Market, knowing (hoping) that they did the research for you and just grabbing and going. But I cut costs where I can and I have managed to feed myself and my husband (and my dog) on a bi-monthly food budget without any negative effects to my digestive system, my health or my weight loss plans/goals.   

No one should go hungry for the sake of their health. No one should feel guilty that they can’t afford organics. No one should feel bad for getting healthy just because of where they can afford to shop. Do your research, make a budget and do what you can for yourself and your family to become and remain healthy, happy and fit. 

Examples of my Low-Budget Healthy Meals:

Egg white, zucchini, yellow squash omelet, turkey bacon and roasted potatoes (Wal-Mart)

Trader Joe's Savory Popcorn, Strawberries and a Black Forest Turkey, Light Salami and Muenster cheese sandwhich on a Hawaiian Mini-sub roll (all bought at Wal-Mart)

96/4 Ground Beef Veggie Packed Meatloaf with roasted potatoes, brocollini and pineapple (Wal-Mart, Brocollini from Albertsons)

Honey Chicken Stir fry w/ brown & white rice (everything purchased from Wal-Mart)

Salad (everything including the chopped rotisserie chicken from Wal-Mart.)

Ricotta, Onion, Garlic and green bean stuffed Chicken with roasted potatoes and sauteed zucchini, yellow squash and green beans (Green beans were from a friend, Veggies were from Trader Joe's, meat and potatoes - Wal-Mart)

Brocolli sauteed pasta with Chicken Parmesan (brocolli came from Albertsons, everything else - Wal-mart)

Weight Loss & I

We are not two peas in a pod, we are not like-minded, we don’t even eat at the same restaurants. However, if weight loss & I were to have a relationship status on Facebook it’d be “It’s complicated.” I’ve always been the “big” girl in my family and among my friends. I lost weight once, 35 pounds totally gone I looked awesome but I gained it all back so now I’m on the road again.  

In January of this year, looking in the mirror I would comment Wow, look at that Buddha belly or Holy moon face, Batman! I also noticed I was rundown, burned out, tired and a glutton. I ate everything and anything because “why not?” That is the lamest excuse ever. That’s like saying well, all my friends jumped off the bridge “why not?” I was fed up with myself, my image, my lameness. All of it. All of it had to go.

Initially weight loss was the goal, the one and only goal and apparently there could only be one. As I started changing my diet and exercising more I kept having these little personal victories pop up like ethereal text messages. You just ran 3 miles. You have been able to sustain a nutritious 1,200 calorie-day and still be full. None of it was overnight it took me 3 months to watch what I put in my mouth and bring my calories down to 1,200. It took me the same amount of time to get up to a 3-mile continuous run. 

Healthy eating quickly became another goal. Making better food choices, paying attention to what I put in my mouth were very important. I wanted this because I figured out my body responds better when it’s got good food in it. Lean meats, veggies and a truckload of fruit make me smile physically and mentally way more than Jack-in-the-Box. Then came exercise. I got addicted to the rush. I love my runners high. I love feeling my strength grow. Now, weight loss is kind of in the backseat. It’s still trying to be a backseat driver but I’m more focused on how great eating and exercising makes me feel and I believe weight loss will come eventually and if it doesn’t hey, that’s okay.

However, that desire, that want to lose weight never fully goes away. I could be blissfully entertaining “eating healthy” and “exercising more” in my home when the doorbell rings and who’s there? Weight Loss with a box, trying to sell me stuff I don’t need. Trying to get me to pay more attention, to eat more or eat less, to do math equations, eat less carbs, bring in science, make a spreadsheet, measure things. It’s trying all the schemes. It’s bringing in all my friends. So-and-so lost weight this way however this person did it this way. Weight loss comes to your door backed with endorsements. It’s a pyramid scheme. Once you buy into it you’ll start enlisting your friends to how THEY should be losing weight. The next thing you know you’re the one with a box, knocking on your friend’s door, interrupting their healthy dinners telling them about all the fine things they should be doing to lose weight.

I’ve decided to put a stop to that for myself. I’ve lost 20 pounds. Would I like to lose more? Sure. It wasn’t easy to lose the 20 pounds I lost but in losing that weight it opened me up to much better things. Exercise and healthy eating those are things I will maintain for the rest of my life, not because I want to lose weight but because I WANT to feel good, I want to feel confident; I want to live a long life. Losing weight is not a forever mission. You can’t spend your entire life losing weight. What you can do is spend your life maintaining a healthy and exuberant lifestyle.

What works for you might not work for me and vice versa if your main mission is to lose weight like mine was, then good luck but know that once you lose the weight it will come down to maintenance so you don’t gain it back. Are you going to measure out your foods for the rest of your life? Are you going to reject your child’s birthday cake in front of their smiling faces because it’s too many carbs? Are you going to abstain from enjoying in eating? If yes, then I wish you the best. If you envision a lifetime of limiting yourself or using math and science as your tools, good for you, go for what makes you happy and what gives you the results you want.

Personally, I’ve found my tastes have simply changed. Instead of chips I crave baby carrots, I turned my breads and pasta to whole grain and they’re so much more filling. My meats are lean, like my muscles. I understand my change will not be the same change for anyone else who started on a weight loss mission and found themselves smack dab in the middle of fitness-burbia or a nutrition wasteland. I will no longer start a sentence with “What I did to lose weight was …” or “what worked for me was…” instead unless you want my honest advice, I’ll just LISTEN. That’s what people who are struggling need. Someone to JUST listen.

There are a lot of paths, a lot of routes and A LOT of unsolicited advice (knock, knock) from EVERYONE you know. Here’s what you do – put on your headphones, tune everyone out and do what works best for you in regards to losing weight, eating better and exercising more. Find your own groove and revel in the fact that once you find it you’ll never have to worry about getting your groove back.

I’ll Never be THAT Person

******Warning I’m still (hopefully forever) on a health kick so this is a exercise post not a post about me realizing my dog obsession or my husband obsession makes me THAT person******

When I first started running, I always said I would never be THAT runner. You know the one. The one that runs in the pouring rain. The one that runs on a busy road for all the world to see. The one that runs up hills and blows a neck vein.

Can you see the fear?

These people were obsessed, crazy, stupid. Why, would you do that? I would watch them from my car as I drove by, poor schmucks. Hitting the pavement in the rain. I could almost see their neck veins straining up that hill. Idiots, all of them. I would watch. I would look at the ladies who needed better sports bras, the men who were taunt, I would study their form, pass judgment and say, “THAT will never be me.”

I am a self conscious runner. The reason I went from the treadmill to the trails is because I don’t like people SEEING me run. There are things moving and sometimes my form is off and let’s just say I am a nervous wrecking ball and I usually batter myself against myself until I fall down.  Running brought out a lot of insecurities about my body image, my looks, my facial expressions, my running form, everything.

This is why, when I ran my first 5K race, I bombed it. Everyone could see me. The woods are my time to be alone and carefree and people were all up in my personal bubble. However, I worked with myself and on myself and 2 weeks later I was able to run an entire 5-mile road race with an average pace of 10 and a half minutes per mile and I smiled almost the whole time.

Can you see the joy?

Last night, it was a typical Pacific Northwest evening full of gray clouds and falling rain.  As I laced up my running shoes and put on my windbreaker, I hoped the drizzle would remain a drizzle. I walked almost a mile down my hill. While stretching, I sighed, so much gray. I started running through downtown Kingston then out onto the highway then humped it up a gradient hill I kept trudging and huffing and puffing and slowing down and speeding up. I did loops and turns, hills and descents. At the end, I ran four miles in the rain on the side of busy roads, up hills. I had become THAT person and not just THAT person but a person who then walked almost a mile uphill to get home.

As I was running, my legs still store from my 5-mile race 3 days earlier, I thought about all the cars passing me. All the people that could see me. They could be criticizing my form, making fun of me, shaking their heads in disdain. They could be doing all the things I used to do when I saw someone running on the side of a busy road. Normal Leila would have let her crazy neurotic brain take over and make her turn around and go home. But Runner Leila, Runner Leila had an epiphany.

They can stare, they can honk, they can click their tongues, laugh and shake their heads. The bottom line is I am doing something to better myself. I am doing something either they can’t do, would like to do or wish they could do. Let them criticize. I may be wet, sore and tired after my run but I did it with only myself and my motivation fueling me up that hill or in that rain or where you can see me. Bottom line, I’m awesome and I know it.