Wired into our hearts

I realize that I haven’t posted very much in the past couple of weeks. The school year has begun in our district and while my children are off-track (we are at a year-round school so my children have been off for two weeks), there is a need for substitute teachers. This, of course, is great for us since we are already pinching pennies and especially in this economy, I am happy just to be working.

The helicopter crash in Afghanistan earlier this month has been a terrible blow to all of us as a country. While it certainly isn’t our intention to ignore or diminish all of the soldiers and civilians who have been killed or injured in these wars, the crash somehow made it more real to our country that these soldiers are not plastic figures or pawns in a child’s game. These soldiers are someone’s child. Someone’s spouse. Someone’s parent.

Someone’s SOMEONE.

It was a somber conversation between my husband and I when we realized the extent of the crash and who was on board. Though he did not know any of these soldiers or civilians personally, he worked in the same unit as one of them. And as one, their unit came together days later to honor the memory of him and the rest of the soldiers.

I worry about my husband and the issues he must face everyday. To worry about his friends overseas. To wonder if he’ll ever have the devastating task of notifying someone’s next of kin. To know that injuries and even deaths have increased substantially within his unit, his building, and everywhere in general. To carry this guilt that he should be out there with his friends. To feel like he could be doing more so that someone else could be doing less.

Then Irene came along and threatened the east coast with her huge diameter. My heart fell when I learned of the deaths across the coast and in other countries. R and I shared quiet conversations this week about how his friends offered him shelter at their more inland home and how some roads were impassable due to flooding.

The kids really miss their daddy and I miss my husband. Somehow the halfway point between when we last saw him and the next time we’ll see him is wired into our hearts. The last time he was out here was July and we won’t see him until November. We haven’t seen him in almost two months and we won’t see him for about another two. We’re a bit early but we were spoiled by his time at home earlier this year.

When I think about how much information I withhold from our kids, I get a bit angry at myself since my family used to do this all the time. I wouldn’t know about a family member’s illness or surgery until weeks after the fact. It was insulting for anyone to think I couldn’t handle bad news.

But now I can see why they did what they did.

One day I will tell our children everything we have been through. One day I will show them this blog and share more about conversations that Daddy and I have had. One day I will answer their questions with honesty, no holds barred. They deserve that. They have already proven their courage, determination, and strength this past year and a half; it’s been wired into their hearts.

MilSpouse Friday Fill-In #14

So over on Wife of a Sailor, Wife posts questions for other bloggers to answer on their own military spouse blogs. (Still with me so far?) And since the kids went to bed early, I thought this might be fun to fill out while I put off folding laundry for another night. At least the pile of clothes in my room is clean!

1. The first thing I think of when I get up in the morning is…

OH MY GOD DO I HAVE A SUB JOB THIS MORNING??? I am a substitute teacher with the district and now that the school year has started again, I’m starting to get booked with jobs. Still, it is nerve-wracking because I either have a job or I don’t; if I don’t, I still gotta get out of bed to: get the kids up/dressed/fed, remind kids to take care of pets, remind kids to empty dishwasher, and get ready for Zumba! Sometime in that mess, I have to get myself ready!

2.Lately, I’ve been craving RICE because…

I’ve been trying to cut out refined carbs and sometimes Spam/scrambled egg/mushroom/garlic fried rice really hits the spot!

3. Whenever anyone says the word SMURFS, it reminds me of my childhood because…

duh, they were so smurfy.

4. The happiest word I know is LEAVE, but…

only because it means something different to military families as in ON LEAVE. When we lived outside of Gate 5 at JEB Little Creek (yep, we were the lucky one on the corner of Juno Road next to the park and yes, I was the milspouse who ran after you with a plastic bag if I saw you letting your dog take a dump on the grass in front of our house and who ran around the area listening to Shakira and Nine Inch Nails on my cell), it was so hard on all of us. When my husband wasn’t deployed six (but we really know it’s seven) months of the year, he was away at out-of-state trainings for weeks at a time. The only time we spent together then and now is when he’s ON LEAVE. Thanksgiving cannot come soon enough.

5. My spouse may hate it, but I absolutely love…

sugar binges. I honestly hope I don’t love them now since changing the way I eat but how many times did I hear him tell me that it would be easier for me to lose weight if I cut out Starbucks and sugar? Dammit, I hate it when he’s right.

Update on my diet/exercise: Zumba 2-4 times a week. Fluctuation in number of days because I’ve started to get more sub jobs so I’m hoping to accept sub jobs on non-Zumba days and fill up the week from there. Right now we really need the money so I’m trying to make up for it by eating way way way less. I eat about 1800 calories a day which I know is still too high for my shortness petite frame but trust me, it’s WAY less than before and the calories are better quality as in protein for snacks, less starch/refined carbs, way less sugar (notice I didn’t say NO SUGAR; let’s not have unrealistic expectations here), no SB OR SB-meal-replacement-plan (I know it’s sooo bad for me but hey, not getting the petite vanilla scones!) and smaller meals in general.

I brought the spicy Cup-O-Noodles for the past couple of days to work because it’s cheap and easy. Surprisingly pretty tasty too. More surprisingly that I’ve paired it with a protein bar or cheese and am actually satisfied.

Of course, don’t ask me what I had for dinner because it was a chicken bowl from Chipotle, no rice, hee hee! Added a couple of mini cookies from Panera next door and I’m good.

Thinking of the east coast as they prepare for the hurricane, especially military families who have to do this without their spouses.

Have a great weekend!

Wired

I noticed something very disturbing this morning. The kids were sitting in front of the TV.

Mesmerized.

Then I heard the same annoying episode of whatever they were watching. They DVR’d their favorite show and were watching it. Again.

I didn’t care what show it was. I didn’t care that they were on break from school. I did care about the fact that they couldn’t hear me unless I turned off the TV or unless someone PAUSED the show.

PAUSING THE SHOW? That is insane!

Brace yourself, here comes an old-timer rant.

Back in the 70s we didn’t have cable. It was a waste of money, according to my Filipino immigrant parents, so I like many of the neighborhood kids had to wait until Saturday morning cartoons.

Saturday morning cartoons. Just that phrase gives me the chills. The number of boxes of cereal I ate in front of the TV. Snorks. Thundercats. Gobots. Voltron. Rainbow Brite. Jem was truly truly truly outrageous.

Don’t even get me started on the Smurfs. Gargamel was a crazy bastard, let me tell you. Talking to that ratty old red cat named Israel and hunting blue creatures only three apples tall. Why did he hunt them anyway? Did he want to smoke their mushroom houses? Was he jealous of their socialist society?

And then Zack Morris and AC Slater and Kids Incorporated came along and I felt OLD because I wanted to watch LIVE TV with cute boys who were as hot as… duh, Kirk Cameron! That was the real birth of the tween age right there. Screw Hanny Montanny.

There was a collective groan in the air when our cartoons were preempted for sports. That was the worst. I was like, “What?! Why would I want to watch jocks play baseball or basketball?”

Of course, that thinking would change as I got older. Of course.

My kids have so many channels, so many TV shows, so many to choose from. We have movies on DVD. We haven’t even gotten to the electronica!

My point is… Where does it all end? When do we say no? Do we ever say no? Is this the new norm?

Surely, it mustn’t be. I have friends who don’t have cable. I have friends who never take their kids to eat at fast food joints for whatever reasons. I have friends who restrict their kids’ consumption of sugar and soda as in none at all. I even have a cousin who downsized her Blackberry to strictly texts and phone calls.

On the other end where most people are, every kid has a TV in their room. Every kid has their own cell phone, designer shoes, the latest video game as in bought “brand-new” not two months later “used” at Game Stop. Every kid has an organized activity every day of the week. Soccer, baseball, basketball, catechism, bible school, playdates, piano lessons, no time to breathe. No time. Period.

No, don’t get your panties in a bunch. Some of those apply to me and while you and your family may be content with your situation, I am not content with mine.

With the closing of Borders, we have picked up some board games and puzzles at a great price. The kids have been warned NOT to open any nor PLAY with any unless under my supervision. Sounds terrible, right? I just don’t want toys to get lost, tossed, broken, or missing. I want them to treat their things with care, not because they should identify with these things or define themselves with stuff but because they cost money, we need to treat them with care, and then pass them on to charity when we have played our last game.

They haven’t noticed but for the last five nights in a row, they only watched TV one of those nights. One night. They rented movies that night and wanted to make sure they got to watch them.

The rest of the nights we read. We put puzzles together. We drew in our journals. M played four Christmas carols on the piano that he learned by himself. He’s only got the melody down but it tells me that he’s learning to read music and he’s doing it on his own. One night M taught his sisters to make brownies. The only thing I did was take the brownies out of the oven. And taste test of course.

Last weekend we went to the museum because admission was free. The kids saw Monets, Indonesian headdresses, creepy head sculptures, and everything in between. We took the dogs for a walk to the park and played there for a while. We’ve packed ourselves sandwiches and brought them to the pool for a picnic several times. We’ve met with other families to just hang out. No organized sports. No planned activities at playdates. Just doing. Just being.

That is what I want. TV and the rest of the electronica has its time and place but I don’t want it to be every time, every place.

I’m preparing my children for what’s ahead. Cancelling the DVR services. Downgrading cable to basic, if any. I actually approached the topic a month ago and they were about to cry. M said, “I will give you my cell phone if we don’t get rid of our cable!” A said, “Why?” as if it were a necessity. It was a wake-up call for me that cancelling our cable package was the worst possible thing they could imagine happening to our household.

I can’t tell you the number of baby, infant, and toddler gadgets that were invented since our son was born ten years ago. There were several times after the birth of each daughter where my husband and I would see a commercial for a new toy or concept and our eyes would glaze over, thinking “Oooh! We need that!” Then one of us would come to our senses and say, “Look, if our grandparents didn’t need it, we don’t need it either!”

So join us in our journey. Or not and watch the trainwreck whining screaming adventure unfold.

Is it so wrong?

Like my middle child, A, I’ve always been a bit headstrong. I’ve always known what I wanted and rarely quit until I got it.

College. Grad school. Marriage. Family.

Check. Check. Check. Check.

I didn’t even change my last name to R’s to the dismay of others in our families.

That’s right. I kept my own damn last name.

How did R feel? Like any other spouse should. He didn’t care so long as the kids had his last name. In case you’re wondering, the kids’ MIDDLE names are MY LAST NAME.

I recently read a friend’s status on Facebook where she was frustrated because she was on the phone, spelling her last name, and the saleswoman asked if she could just call her Mrs. [Husband's Last Name]. I commented that she shouldn’t worry for I was changing the world one classroom at a time. Students curious about my kids’ names would wonder why our last names were different to which I’d reply, “Oh no, honey. You don’t have to change your name when you get married. It isn’t THE LAW.”

Somtimes R would come home, telling me what some of his friends say to their wives. Nothing horrendous, mind you. Comments ranged from sexist to slightly rude.

He’d always end with, “What would you do if I ever said that to you?”

My answers varied. “You know better than to say that to me.” “I’d leave your ass.” “You’d better have a new Coach purse in your hand.”

Once he asked me, “Would you really leave me?”

I replied, “Yes.”

He was shocked. “Really?”

“Actually,” I said. “I’ve only considered leaving you three times.”

“WHAT?!”

I raised my hands as if surrendering. “Wait,” I said. “Only every time I was pregnant and didn’t know. It was the hormones!”

That sent him in shellshock, of course. I can’t remember when we actually had this conversation but I’m remembering it tonight.

Tonight is one of those nights where I feel a little off. Maybe it’s hunger and my body is sadly accepting that I’m taking in less calories. Maybe it’s because I skipped my mid-afternoon nap. After all, aren’t the hours from 2 pm to 4 pm strictly for siesta, for stay-at-home-moms-waiting-for-sub-jobs in particular? No?

I remember this wonderful blog called “They Call Me Dependent” written by a military spouse who is examines her identity in the military world of being SOMEONE’S dependent. She is sarcastic, hilarious, and if I could remember the exact address, I would put up the link.

But alas. I’m tired. Too tired to read. I’m lazy. Too lazy to Google the phrase “They Call Me Dependent” even though I just typed the phrase not once but twice. You can Google it later.

Tonight I am wishing I could be DEPENDENT for once in my life. I wish I didn’t have a geobachelor husband and that we actually lived in the same house, for consecutive days at a time. I’m not even asking for months or years. Weeks would be nice.

I wish I could be dependent and ask him pitifully to hold me until I went to sleep and if he could please ignore my drool if it ran onto his arm.

I wish I could be dependent and ask him for his opinion on what we should read to the kids for a bedtime story or what we should have for dinner tomorrow.

I wish I could be dependent and ask him if he wanted me to turn off the light because I can’t put this vampire novel down but I could definitely go downstairs and finish the chapter if the light was too bright.

I wish I had the option of being dependent for once.

If R were laying next to me, reading over my shoulder which he never does but it’s cute to picture it right now, he would ask if I wanted some cheese with this whine.

Then I’d punch him. And tell him that I wasn’t tired yet so could he please talk about history or black holes or something equally boring?

Yes, the option of being dependent would be quite nice right about now.

***EDIT***
I have been notified by several fabulous readers that the website address is They Call Me Dependent. Thank you! Rock on!

Mommy Maestra

Back in 1999 life was great.

I was back in my hometown after spending six years in the Bay Area. I made new friends and was dating a sailor who was studying at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey.

I remember the first farmer's market we ever went to, R bought me a caramel apple. We had to have another one for old time's sake.

I was in my third year of teaching and so excited to be with six year olds again. Yes, I was teaching first grade again.

After thirteen years, I still remember the question that I was asked by parents the most that year: “So… do you have any kids of your own?”

I have to admit that I was mistakenly offended whenever someone asked this question because I got the impression that parents couldn’t believe that I could adequately teach their children if I wasn’t a parent already. Maybe some parents deep down believed (and still believe) that notion but I think that many were questioning my fabulosity youth.

While I don’t think you need to be a parent to be a good teacher and vice versa, I know that both roles complement each other… and I exploit them ruthlessly.

What I Learned Being a TEACHER:

1. The moment you engage in an argument with a child, you lose. Mommy won’t argue with you. Period.

2. Diffuse the situation with silence. Quiet is MUCH scarier than yelling.

3. Routines work. Bedtime and alarms are the same and vary only by an hour on weekends and on vacation.

4. Lists work. To-Do Lists put the responsibility on the kids.

5. Use bribes sparingly. “What? We’re gonna go to McDonalds? We haven’t been there in a long time! Let’s hurry up and clean our rooms!”

6. Find allies quickly. Team up with teacher/parent and agree on an objective whether it’s reading independently or remembering to study. Constantly reenforce objective until kid knows it like the back of his hand. Like when your older daughter refuses to put her sweater on during a Disney On Ice show. Simply turn to the woman next to you and whisper, “Would you mind telling my daughter to put her sweater on?” and a knowing gleam appears in her eye. Problem solved.

7. Let learning be its own reward. I don’t do raffle tickets or anything too complicated or I’ll get too lazy. I do simple but special things like table/group points for Lunch Bunch (bringing lunch back to the classroom and eating with moi). I have been known to do something special such as letting the kid choose the once-a-week (TRYING to keep it at once a week) foray to the drive-thru of choice for a great report card or note.

***GUILTY SIDE NOTE***
Last trimester my son got STRAIGHT A’s in third grade for the FIRST TIME EVER. We decided to go big and get him a huge Nerf foam dart machine gun. He was so happy and excited that as he was lugging it out to the car, he said, “This feels really good!”

I said, “What? Getting a huge present?”

“No,” he said. “Getting good grades does!”

YESSSSS! We’ll see if he gets those grades again and remembers what he said…

What I Learned Being a PARENT:

1. Every student is someone’s child. I don’t get too grossed out if a kid has a runny nose. I just get the kid a tissue. No biggie.

2. Every kid walking or biking or skateboarding on the street is going to be treated like it’s MY KID out there so honk if you must but I’m still not going to speed up. Jerk.

3. Every kid has a backstory. It may be something as simple as getting reprimanded for something minor or worrying about whether or not he packed his homework. It may be something life-altering like dad getting in a car accident. Whatever “it” is, it’s important to the kid so it’s important to you.

4. Kids can’t hear ANYTHING. “What? Clean my room? Huh? What did you say?”

5. Kids hear EVERYTHING. My daughter was upstairs in her room playing but she heard my husband and I talk about where we might go for lunch. Apparently the phrase “BEAN BURRITO” registers in her superhearing.

6. Kids don’t remember anything. My son forgot his homework for an entire two weeks in a row until…

7. Kids remember EVERYTHING. My son quotes his new fourth grade teacher verbatim and has a newfound responsibility that kinda freaks me out a little. Also, they never forget when I forget to pay them for cleaning up the dog doo in the backyard or the promise of going to the movies every season.

WHAT ALL PARENTS AND TEACHERS HAVE IN COMMON:

1. They check their egos at the door and let the kids be right at their own goofy expense.

2. They are compassionate, caring individuals who contribute to our society in the highest roles possible as parents and/or teachers.

3. THEY ROCK!

MilSpouse Friday Fill-In #13

So over on Wife of a Sailor, Wife posts questions for other bloggers to answer on their own military spouse blogs. (Still with me so far?) And since the kids are watching a movie with my brother, I thought this might be fun to fill out while the kids try and talk my brother into “camping” with them in the living room.

1. My spouse and I rarely agree on…

quantum physics (he’s forever trying to sell me this “theory” but I don’t buy it because (1) just because you can’t disprove it doesn’t mean it’s true, (2) I haven’t seen evidence with MY OWN EYES or felt it with MY OWN HANDS, and (3) it’s really funny to be devil’s advocate around him (like he gets SO FRUSTRATED with me, he can’t stand it; but hey, I keep him on his toes. Keeps his arguments stronger if he were to ever talk to Stephen Hawking in person, ya know?).

but always agree on…

parenting issues (discipline, manners, not spoiling them, etc.), how cute our kids are (we’re biased, okay?), and when I need a coffee break (I probably look like a crazy mess).

2. If I could use one word to sum up the way I feel right now, it would be…

ALRIGHT.

Really. I’m sitting here, listening to the kids’ movie in the background, tired from the day but not tired at all. Today was my first sub job of the school year and I am happy to just be working. This morning the kids, two dogs, and I went for a walk and spent some time in the park. After work I drove the kids to gymnastics. My husband is NOT deployed and in fact, doing the exact opposite: going home to visit his family for a reunion, many of whom haven’t seen him since WAY before the accident. We weren’t able to afford plane tickets for all of us to fly out to his home state but very excited for my husband to see his family.

Our children are healthy. We have wonderful friends. Sure, we are tightening our bootstraps or shining our belts or whatever the phrase is for penny-pinching and sticking to a tight budget but hey, who isn’t? I have ended my relationships with Juicy Couture, Kate Spade, Uggs, IKEA, and Coach: This isn’t good-bye but rather, see you later.

Yup. I’m alright. ***tear***

3. One of the things my spouse does that grosses me out is…

reusing his socks. They are soooooo disgusting! I mean, really, would it be too hard to de-wrinkle them so they’re not dirty stinky grenades in the closet or under the bed AND toss them directly into the washing machine? STOP REUSING THEM ALREADY! YOU ALREADY HAVE A BAZILLION PAIRS OF SOCKS SINCE YOU BUY A NEW BATCH EVERY TIME WE MOVE, FORGET TO PACK THEM, AND/OR LOSE THEM! WHY DO I NEED TO MAKE YOU THROW THEM AWAY WHEN THEY HAVE GAPING HOLES??? GROSS!

And that, my friends, was ten years and eleven months of griping in one paragraph.

4. My readers may think I’m crazy for doing this, but I really love to…

go dancing with my friends! It’s so nice NOT worry about a babysitter (since it’s been either my husband or my brother; the latter costing a case of Rockstar each time, sheesh!) or spending money on alcohol. Sam’s Club sells margaritas in a bottle and you can’t even tell I’m carrying alcohol in my water bottle!

5. Frankly, my dear, I don’t…

believe parents when they say that they don’t understand why their child/children do or say the things they do. They learned it from somewhere!

I have no one to blame when my four-year old says, “WHERE’S MY FUCKING TWINKIES?” in the middle of the grocery store. I have no one to blame when my first grader calls your child a dumbass unless of course he really is a dumbass. I have no one to blame when my son draws the internal view of the human body as seen from a zombie’s point of view in the middle of Starbucks.

No one. Not even my husband. We both swear but those words were from me or my permission to watch that classic movie Zombieland.

Fuuuuuck, give me a break already!

LMAO! Your turn!

Lies I Told Myself Today

1. It’s okay to spill accidentally cat food on the floor and not pick it up right away or at all. Cats will eat off of any surface and dogs will eat anything, right?

2. Mark Ruffalo is cute in every movie. Watching “The Kids Are Alright” and he’s kind of goofy in a dorky way, not in a cute way as in “13 Going On 30″. It’s still early in the movie though…

3. It’s okay to be naive and say, “Really? I have to pay for parking at a baseball game?” Was going to try to use that excuse at the next game in a couple of weeks but then I’d be lying. In front of the kids.

4. It’s okay to have ice cream and two brownies a brownie on the same day because I didn’t have them at the same time and also I am going to Zumba tomorrow to repent in the House of Vanessa-Who-Kicks-My-Ass.

5. It’s okay to slightly push our kids. In our case, gymnastics. ALL THREE are on Preteam, meaning as soon as they are ready and/or seven years old, they will be going to gymnastics meets and competing.

I put the kids in gymnastics as a distraction. After R’s accident I wanted the kids to be in something they could enjoy together, especially after everything they/we were going through. And what do you know… they were good at it.

So good that within the first couple of months both the girls were asked to join preteam (though L would wait until she turned four this past July) and after the boys’ coach turnover, M was asked to join as well.

While M had reservations about competing (nerves, didn’t want to wear a leotard, etc.), A keeps asking me “When am I going to win medals already?!” The other boys’ moms said they were in the same boat but we all agreed we’d put up a united front because

(1) our sons should try it for one year just so the boys can say they’ve done it and

(2) we already paid the club fee.

Alas, the boys’ coach came through: CASH PRIZES. Ahhh… now he’s speaking their language.

Slap me when I start to sound like one of those Dance Moms on TLC. Well, maybe you should offer me a brownie first and then break it to me gently.

MilSpouse Friday Fill-In #12

So over on Wife of a Sailor, Wife posts questions for other bloggers to answer on their own military spouse blogs. (Still with me so far?) And since I spent most of my evening talking to a fab teacher and a DOCTOR OF EDUCATION pondering my future as an educator, I thought this might be fun to fill out while wondering if I could actually teach preschool.

1. The best thing my parents taught me to do when I was a child was…

… be close to my cousins. I have dozens of cousins from both sides of the family ranging from forty to sixty-five years old! My brother and I (both of us are in our mid-thirties) are the youngest so we’ve got second cousins (or “nieces” and “nephews” as our family calls second cousins) who are just a month younger than my brother and that generation has started to have children of their own. Needless to say, I can’t remember everyone’s names all the time because then you grow up with your cousins’ cousins but family parties are always loud and will fill you up with lots of food and spirits!

2.However, one thing I wish they did differently was…

… make me stick with piano lessons. Junior high happened and I wanted to quit. They basically said okay. Later after high school did I realize that had I continued I probably would have been able to attend college on a music scholarship. On a related note, also when I was in junior high, I was offered a full-ride scholarship by our church to go to the city’s Catholic high school for girls but my parents said no because of transportation. It was on the other side of town but most of my family lived there and I could have been dropped off. Coulda shoulda woulda, right?

So now I’m in a dilemma with our oldest who I just found out today has been selected to register with the official USA gymnastics league or whatever it is so he can start competing! Like I just found out tonight and it is so late I haven’t called R to let him know because he’s asleep so after the two teachers I talked to, y’all are the first to know! He DOES NOT want to compete and I don’t want to make him do it if he doesn’t want to; on the other hand, I don’t want him to have any regrets like I kinda do about how some things could have turned out differently, ya know? I don’t know. I need to hear your opinions. Be nice though. Thanks.

3.One thing I’ve always wanted to try but haven’t is…

… scuba diving. I’ve always wanted to learn, especially because my high school chemistry teacher was so expressive and content whenever he talked about his adventures in the Monterey Bay. My husband was talking about trying it out with a friend out in Virginia Beach but held back because of money issues. I told him he HAD to do it because when will he ever get the chance to scuba dive in the Chesapeake? Also, then I could learn and then we could go together.

4. One thing I never thought I’d try but I have is…

… trying to lose weight after weight gain. I’m happy that I’ve never given up on myself. Thomas Edison said, “I haven’t failed; I found 10,000 ways that don’t work.” I don’t know what it is about quotes lately but finding out that others have been in similar situations makes my dilemma a lot less stressful.

5. If I could give my 16-year-old self one piece of advice I’d tell myself…

… to quit being so self-conscious, especially when it comes to clothes. I’d say, “GIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRL, puh-leeze wear as many things as you can that you think MIGHT make you look fat because you’ll regret not dressing like a ho-bag while you had the chance and the body have fewer choices when you get older.”

A walked into the gym and declared, "I'm going to get on the balance beam first."

Your turn!

Deflated and a couple of disappointments

You know when you first start dating someone sometimes you gain a little weight. Too many restaurants. Too many visits to the bars and clubs. Too many after-hours Taco Bell runs because drinking and dancing really work up an appetite.

And then you see a picture of yourselves on one of your first vacations together and you think, “Who is this girl and why does she look like she slathered cottage cheese on her arms?” Eeeeek!

The weight for the both of us eventually came off. Of course, his came off faster and easier. We vowed not to let ourselves indulge so often.

Then married life kicks in and darn it if everything in Georgia is deep-fried. Everything’s bigger in Texas. Hello? THREE LITER SODA BOTTLES?

Don’t forget having some babies thrown into the mix.

Then the deployments started in Virginia. When R wasn’t deployed, he would go on out-of-state trainings for weeks at a time. Most times he’d come home late Friday night and then leave that Sunday.

There was very little time to do anything. Our kids were very disappointed when Daddy was home for literally thirty-six hours every other month. The only time that was left was for tense conversations about who had it worse and how much this duty station sucked ass.

That and entering WE’RE-ON-VACATION-SO-FUCK-IT mode. You know how when you go on vacation you want to do everything and try all the different food and not pay attention to portion size, fat, and/or calories? Well, that’s what we did.

Let’s hurry up and indulge while we can before Daddy leaves. Let’s hurry up and eat Cold Stone Creamery, Chick-Fil-A, Ruby Tuesday (OMG, their salads!), [fill in every calorific place you can think of]! We don’t have to work out or do anything active because Daddy’s only here for a little while!

So is the story of the yo-yo twenty-something pounds that have plagued me for the last decade or so. Every single time I whittle away at that yo-yo and I think the pounds are gone, a little blue line appears on a plastic stick.

Don’t get excited now. While I’m starting to whittle away once again, I AM NOT PREGNANT.

No. I’m not. Not even a little bit pregnant.

This morning I woke up pretty excited to have made some small changes in exercise and diet. I didn’t weigh myself; I go by how my pants are fitting.

Some of you have been blessed and/or have worked hard NOT to have a belly so you might not know what I’m talking about when you start to lose inches from your midsection. Do you know how when a playground ball starts to deflate, it gets wider at the bottom? Yep, it’s happening to me and it’s a bummer but remembering that analogy makes me feel a little better. I could sort of see that happening but nothing noticeable in my arms or legs.

I was disappointed that I wasn’t seeing more results. I know I must be patient and slower weight loss is optimal but come on, can’t I go down a pants size now? Surely I must have lost weight SOMEWHERE.

And then I put my bra on and the damn thing was too big in the cup size.

A couple of disappointments indeed.

Invincible

Yesterday was surreal. For the first time in a long time, I felt alive. I felt invincible.

Powerful.

I got up like I did every Saturday to meet my friend at the gym for our favorite Zumba instructor’s class so what was so different about yesterday?

Yesterday’s class was my fourth Zumba class this week. Crazy, right?

I’m telling you, this instructor is amazing. She used to be a dancer in Mexico and she likes her music loud. Really loud. She said she likes for it to feel like a club in her class except I don’t scream “OOHT OOHT!” randomly. Oh wait, I do.

Not to take away credit from Vanessa for she definitely is inspiring and encouraging, but this new and welcome feeling of being powerful went beyond Zumba. I ate better this past week, still feeling good about my recent decluttering week. Less refined carbs, less sugar, less diet soda, way less Starbucks. I was mindful about the way I worked out, doing more than what I usually could but also keeping my ego in check and knowing that a wrong landing could seriously reinjure my knee.

I was living life mindfully. No, I AM living life mindfully.

Life shouldn’t be like a view from the train, watching it fly by. I ran into roadblocks this week and felt so sad that conversations with my husband were quick and didn’t offer band-aids to my aching heart.

I cannot appreciate the good if there is no bad. There will be bad, bad enough to feel like it ran up to me out of nowhere and suckerpunch me in the gut. Perhaps even strong enough to knock me off of this endorphin-fueled, sugarless horse.

Then I heard about the helicopter crash in Afghanistan and last April’s feelings washed over me quicker than maple syrup over warm chocolate chip pancakes. I didn’t want to call my husband this morning; SEALs were killed and though he isn’t one, he works with and knows many.

That was a crummy feeling to feel the power, the light, the life just sucked out of you. I was afraid about how he was feeling knowing that being a geobachelor takes his toll on him, how truly helpless we all are in matters of war, and how I was fully aware of how much I wanted to hug him right then and there.

Then a warmth rejuvenated in me. This is my husband. Talk to him. Connect with him. Not just over the phone. Tap into the part of my brain that housed every memory of us and unlock it. Use it.

Eleanor Roosevelt said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” I think this rings true for everything else in life too. We all have the power within us; we just need to find our own keys to unlock it.

I derive strength from my marriage, my family, my sugarless and carb reduced diet, memories of everything I’ve ever accomplished in life, and the drive to do more. Those are my keys. Sure, I lose them every so often but it is an exhilarating feeling to try again after failure. Despite failure.

And life goes on.