Same blog- new take

I have never been athletic.  In shape? Sure!  Athletic? No.  I studied ballet through school.  As a self-proclaimed "bun head," I took ballet very seriously.  My long lessons and rehearsals left little to no time for much else... let alone sports.  The first organized athletic team I have ever been a part of- was a beer league kickball team.  Even there, I was looked at as non-athletic.  I earned my nickname, Twinkle toes, because of my very slow, bouncy run to first base.  Let's just say, my name and the word athletic are barley mentioned together.

Regardless of my non-athleticness, I have always been fascinated by runners.  I have never been good at running.  In high school I was too scared to run in front of my peers.  I made my mom write a note to my gym teacher to excuse me from running the mandatory mile.  In college, well, I smoked, and I barely woke up before noon.  Most of the time I was too hungover to even walk to the gym, let alone run.  Needless to say, it was really a surprise to friends and family when I started running around age 24. 

Charlottesville is a running town.  People around here spend their weekends outdoors... running, biking, fishing- you get the idea.  They even have a great annual race to support breast cancer, The Charlottesville Women's 4 miler.  You see, my work, Panera Bread, sponsors the race, and donates over 4000 bagels to the runners!  I, being the marketing gal, felt it was not only important to be present at the race, but take it a step further an run in it.  So I began to train.  Little distances at first- run .25 miles, walk .25, run, walk... you get the idea.  I will never forget the first time I ran a mile straight... I was on a trail and I crossed the chalked "1 Mile" marker and I instantly began to cheer and applaud myself...fellow runners looked at me, and were like, "Wow- how far did you run??"  You should have seen their faces when I responded "1 MILE!!"  Yes, not impressive to many, but to me- it was like I had completed a marathon.

Well I finished my first race, the 4 miler.  I even signed up for the next few years... and well I am running it for my 4th time this September.  Ever since I had the twins, running has become more to me than just a way to stay in shape...  It has become my therapy, my meditation, my goal, my alone time,  my release, my way to turn my brain off and just be.  When I first started running, my favorite part was when I was finished, in my car driving home, now I just love running... so much that I have decided to compete in my first half marathon in November.

What the hell does half marathon training have to do with things I've learned- well, that is the thing... A LOT.  I learn so much when I am on a trail.  I learn about myself, my physical and mental limits, my tendencies.  I think about ways to improve, and ways to push myself.  And you know what?  all of these lessons can be applied to my life...


I have begun the rigorous half marathon training. Equipped with a GPS watch (courtesy of the supporting husband), and a strap on water bottle, I took to the trail this past weekend with two fellow running fiends. I ran 7 miles, they ran 8 . I ran about a 10 minute pace, they ran 8 minute pace. I wanted to take a stretch break one mile in, they wanted to keep going... the most important part was we started and finished together. During one of the first few miles, as we were heading uphill, I decided to let the other two runners go ahead because I could not keep their pace. J (his nickname for the sake of this blog), said, "Why make such a rash decision on the uphill climb? Why not wait until the downhill after you recover, then decide?"

Uh... interesting way to put it, J... why do I tend to make rash decisions on an uphill climb? You know the same could be said for life- metaphorically... Why do I tend to make rash decisions on uphill climbs. For example- we have started to explore with potty training. We are not actually potty training yet, just talking about it... A LOT. Well the other day lil monkey, A, sat on the potty for 20 minutes, then got up and peed all over the floor, and cried when he realized he had made a mistake. It was then that I decided, we are not ready for potty training. Rash decision, things were tough, uphill climb. Instead of deciding that they weren't ready in that moment, I should have waited until the recovery (after things were cleaned up, and calmed down) to decide. Note to self- wait until the recovery to decide. Where there is an uphill, there is usually a downhill lurking right around the corner... wait until things are evened out before making any decisions. Well despite my decision to stop potty training, my kids can't wear diapers for the rest of their lives, so we will start again. This time, I will remember to stick with it... where there is an uphill- there will be a downhill.

From one soul to another:)

Momma said there be days like these...

This week started off with a lemon... I lost my wallet.   For anyone who has ever lost their wallet they know it is a pain.  Not a tragedy, just a pain... but like a lot of lemons in life- it can be a bit overwhelming.  You don't even realize how many important things you hold in your wallet until it is gone.  After spending hours on the phone with my bank, credit card companies, health insurance companies, DMV, etc, etc, etc... I finally accepted the reality that I will be up and running again in 7-10 business days. The silver lining is,  I was issued a temporary, printed-off drivers license-so I am not driving illegally. Oh joy. 

Well since the wallet debacle, things really seem to be piling up... little things- nothing extreme- a little annoyance here, and there... but it was enough to take the wind out of my sails, and make me snap.  (Why is it that things always seem to to happen in a series- one thing goes wrong, then another, and another?)  Unfortunately the men in my life they happened to be in my line of fire.  I yelled, stomped, and scared Ty to the point where I swear he wouldn't look at me for a while.  I try not to yell often in front of my monkeys- so I think it took him by surprise.   Then- the guilt set in... and the guilt trip... "I'm a bad mom, I can't manage things, I have too much on my plate, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to overreact, etc, etc."  I called my husband to apologize.  I apologized to my mom and sister who happened to witness my freak out.  I apologized to my little men- who graciously forgave me after a few fruit snacks.  I apologized, and apologized.  

After my rounds of apologies, I was still feeling guilty for my behavior... to which I ask myself- why?  Why do I feel so guilty?  I had a bad day.  It is okay.  People have bad days...I had a bad day, and I needed to yell.  It is okay.  I know it wasn't the best most mature way to deal with the stress, but you know what- IT IS OKAY TO YELL EVERY NOW AND THEN!!!!

People need to vent.  They call it venting for a reason- you are letting off some steam- so you don't blow.  Yelling and stomping was my vent, and guess what... I felt better.  So- the lesson I learned is that every now and then, it is okay to yell, stomp, and blow off steam.  We are human, and by accepting that we are not perfect, and we lose our tempers every now and then, it just may help it happen less.

From One Soul to Another:)
HAAAAAAAAH

Be kind to yourself...

I apologize I haven't posted in a while.  It is not because I am not learning, but rather life got in the way.  I have been really busy going to weddings, baby showers, and being a mom to my two lil monkeys.  I often lay in bed and think, gosh, I should have written about this or that, but I have not found the time to sit down and write.  Naturally, I have beaten myself up for my lack of entries, and in doing so I learned that my negative self talk is unhealthy, and not necessary... all which leads me to me lesson of the day, "Be kind to yourself."

When I was pregnant, I started practicing yoga.  I found it to be a peaceful and harmonious way to strengthen and stretch my growing body.  After I gave birth, I decided that yoga was healthy for not only my physically being but my mental being as well.  It made sense- yoga was a place where I could turn my mind off and focus on my breath.  However, in the beginning of my yoga practice, I found it really hard to turn off my mind and be present.  I would lay in shavasana (rest position- where you lay on your back with your palms to the sky, eyes closed, resting) thinking about my to-do list.  Although I would pretend to be zen, each pose I would self critique and push my body further.   I let the perfectionist side get the best of me.  It wasn't until about 6 months into my yoga practice that I learned the fundamental philosophy behind yoga is non-violence.  Non violence- a practical philosophy, it makes sense... little did I realize that my self critiques were violence to myself- and because I wasn't practicing the basic law of yoga, I wasn't practicing yoga at all.  After that day, I had to let it go.  I had to let go of my negative self talk, and just be- focus on my breath.

Let's face it... we live in a tough world.  A world where the cover of Time Magazine is "Are you mom enough?" and the only way to be "beautiful" is to fit into a size 2.  A world where we feel the need to constantly prove ourselves.  Just the other day, I caught myself boasting about how I had "breastfed my twins for a year."  Yes- that is a great accomplishment, but why do I feel the need to share it?  I was looking for a pat on the back, reformation that I am a good mom... well if I didn't breastfeed for a year, would I not be a good mom?  Absolutely not.  Society puts these hard standards on all of us, and you know what... screw it.  We need to love ourselves.  We need to reassure ourselves that we are good at what we do- whether it be being a mom, or a wife, a friend, whatever...  We need to be nicer to ourselves.  Embrace our flaws, learn from our mistakes, and love ourselves.   We need to be patient, and learn, and grow, and not hold ourselves to society standards, but rather our own personal best.  Why is that so hard to do?

From One Soul to Another:) 

Silence can say so much...

The first thing I do when I wake up is talk... to whomever; my husband, the cat, the coffee maker, myself- I chat.  I talk when I get nervous, anxious, mad, sad, scared... I chat.  I feel the need to fill the air with words.  My chatter is so frequent it often becomes diluted.  I've had the pleasure of meeting people who say so much by saying not much at all.  It is a very powerful feeling to be in the company of someone who does not have the need to fill the air with chatter, but when they decide to talk- their words have such meaning, such purpose.  I am inspired by people like this, and although I cannot relate to how they communicate, I sure can learn something from them.
When I was a teenager, I managed to get myself in to my fair share of trouble.  I will never forget the night my dad picked me up from one of my troublesome situations... I was ready to hear him scream.  I braced myself for his wrath, and held my breath thinking about what I would say to retaliate.  To my surprise, he said nothing at all.  He barely even looked at me.  His disappointment in my actions was so palpable- I could taste it, but he didn't utter a word at all.  I begged him to say something, I even tried to start an argument, but he didn't participate... silence.  It said so much.  I was so disappointed in myself for disappointing him, I wised up very quickly. 

Recently, I found myself in a predicament where I didn't know the right thing to say.  I tried to fill the void- the dead air, with chatter, but realized that my nonsense talk didn't add anything to the situation.  I wanted to support, I wanted to say something to make it all better, but realized that more than anything else- my physical presence was more support than anything I could say.  So I sat in silence.  Although I was uncomfortable, I realized my silence said so much and my physical presence was support enough.  I said what needed to be said without opening my mouth.

From one soul to another-

One foot in front of the other...

Just recently, I was emailing with a co-worker who had just successfully completely his first half marathon. I asked how it went, in which he replied, "you know- there were a lot of hills, but after a while you just put one foot in front of another and eventually you know the finish line will come." I don't why, but his phrase struck a cord with me. Maybe because it is so basic, so logical, but somehow so profound.

Yesterday was a tough day- I'm not going to lie. Both my monkeys were sick, and moody. By seven o'clock , Austin had screamed successfully for an hour straight-- through dinner, bath time, bottle time, and books... By the time Joey finally got home, I was ready to flip my lid. I was actually so flustered at his never ending screaming, I had to take a moment to recompose myself outside. No it wasn't pretty.  If only then- in the heat of the moment- I would have remembered to pace myself. I forgot to put "one foot in front of the other"...rather I stumbled, and the stumbling got worse and worse with each scream. After my moment to myself, I felt remorse. I was sorry I had let him get to me. I was sorry, I, being the adult wasn't capable to take control of the situation and calm him down. I was sorry I let it escalate. Mommy guilt is a pretty shitty thing...  Instead of focusing on the moment, I let the past hour of crying really jade my present attitude. 


You know, after last night I really started thinking about the phrase, "one foot in front of the other,"and it struck me that I need to change my approach to life. So often do I go into new chapters, or events of my life and think of it in its entirety. Rather than breaking it down into manageable steps, I get overwhelmed with the big picture.

For example, just the other day I agreed to go running with a co-worker. We had committed to running a 4 mile trail. At the start of our run, I started feeling anxious about whether or not I would be able to keep up. My heart rate elevated, and instead of finding my rhythm in the present moment, I let the thought of the overall mileage bog me down. Unlike the situation with Austin, it was not the past events (screaming for hours) that bogged me down, it was the future- the miles I had committed to running.  That's when I realized I needed to stop obsessing over what lies behind, and what lies ahead, but be present.  I need to learn to focus on the task at hand. Running at this very moment... Parenting in this breath... putting forth my best effort right now... And knowing that eventually I see the finish line.  Some days the finish line is at the end of a four mile trail, and some days it is 2 sleeping monkeys and a bottle of wine... but I need to rest assure that the finish line will come. 

From One Soul to Another,
Be Present

Everyone has a Battle to Fight...

 I often look at other people, and think "man- if only I could run as fast as her" or "have her hair" or "drive that car" or "live in that house" or "have her confidence" or "have his intelligence" my life would be so much better. 

You know, I think it is human nature to judge one another.  We are constantly trying to put our "best foot forward" to impress one another.  I see it often.  I do it myself.  I will see a mom with kids similar in age to my two monkeys, just breeze into our music class, make-up perfect, wearing a cardigan and pearls... and I think, gosh- she is amazing, how the hell does she look so calm, so relaxed, and able to get dressed and out the door to a music class at 9:15am.  There are some days I sit in the same class, and wonder if I even remembered to brush my teeth!  My instant reaction is to judge.  I judge without even knowing I am judging.  I think, "well she must have a live in nanny, or a stay-at home husband to help her in the morning." I instantly get jealous, and insecure with my own choice of clothes (which rarely includes a cardigan).  I think, gosh she must think I am a mess.  Then I begin to judge her judging me- without even speaking to her.  It is awful to admit.   I watch as my lil monkeys play...so innocent, so non-judgemental, so pure... and I am jolted back into reality, and reminded of what is important.

You know, I am the type of person who puts myself out there.  I wear my heart on my sleeve at all times.  I have no filter.  I am very honest with myself about my insecurities, my vulnerabilities, hell- I even publish it for you all to read.  But I know not everyone is like me.  People are strong.  They walk around with problems- problems I can't even imagine or understand.  I said it before, and I will say it again, people inspire me.  Just recently I was told that a friend of mine, who appears to be like one of those momma's who has it all together, is currently battling something.  Something that I cannot explain in this forum, but it is going to take a lot to beat.  I was shocked.  Unbeknownst to the world around her was preparing for a battle.  In fact she was preparing for her battle rather quietly and bravely as to not disrupt her sweet lil girl's life.  She is strong, and inspiring.

When she shared her secret with me, I was shocked.  It made me  realize I need to stop being so judgemental, and start being grateful.  Grateful for what I do have which is so much.  I need to stop thinking that things are always what they seem, and start realizing what Plato so eloquently said, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is is fighting a hard battle."

From one Soul to Another,
Be Kind

Learning how to make lemonade...

You know that age old adage, "when life hands you lemons, make lemonade"?  Well I need to work on my lemonade making skills. 

 I think we, as humans are pretty amazing. We can accomplish so much. We handle tragedy gracefully, with dignity, and pride.   One of the reasons I started this blog, and I wrote in my first blog entry is, "people inspire me." It's true. I am inspired daily by peoples courage, determination, strong beliefs and values, and optimism... People are amazing able to handle so much... But why is it the little things, "the lemons" that taste so sour?

A few days ago, I missed a flight to Florida where I was going for a much needed girls weekend. It was my stupid fault, I showed up at the airport a mere 15 minutes before my plane was scheduled to take off.  I woke up late, couldn't find my husbands car keys, took longer than expected to get to the airport... you know the whole stream of events that makes you late. The gate agent took pity on me, and gladly booked me for another flight at no additional cost. I returned home, spent a few hours with the boys, and headed back to the airport... Only to realize my debit card was missing. Several phone calls to the bank, husband, and every place I shopped at the day before, I concluded my card was gone. By this time, I was in full on anxiety/stress mode; high blood pressure, heart racing, shortness of breath, stressed out! I was so annoyed with my own stupidity and crappy luck I could have lost it!

You know, I am not always the best under pressure, but I do consider myself pretty resilient... I mean I bounced back after birthing twins with much less stress and anxiety than my current situation.

I don't think I'm alone either... I have watched my husband stay even keeled and steady through multiple million dollar negotiations with work, but freak out over traffic... I have seen grown men cry over losing a football game, I have seen people  yell at complete strangers at a movie theater for butting in line.  It just amazes me... I mean if it is just lemons-small, insignificant, things,  why is it to hard to swallow? It just amazes me how when it's the big things in life we deal so well, so gracefully, so dignified, but the little things cause us to crack. 

So while my day was still filled with stress and anxiety, I made it to Florida and had an awesome time.  In the end, I was able to look back at the days events and realize they were just lemons.  However in the heat of the moment, I learned lemons are really hard to swallow. 

From one soul to another

Change is Inevitable...

When I was in college, I would describe myself as a "fly by the seat of her pants" kind of girl.  I was free spirited, inspired, ready for the world... Any Bob Marley song was my anthem, and as long as I had my close friends near, and Bob on the radio, we could do anything (or at least we thought we could).  Ha!  Well like everything, things change.  I did not get over the whole college life easily... rather I went kicking and screaming into young adulthood trying to hold on to any college memory I could.  My friends and I still get together in Pittsburgh, and re-visit our old stomping grounds- as if nothing has changed...  We probably look like over served old ladies to the current college kids, but hey- for one night, I'll drink enough to put me back.
Now, that I am older I realize- I am not so free spirited.  Actually, not really at all.  I like order, schedules, and organization (to a degree).  I don't want to fly by the seat of my pants, rather I want to control every aspect of my life... and I lay awake at night thinking of ways I can.  I hate change.  There I said it.  I do.  Like any laboring mother will tell you, transition is hard, but for me it is excruciating, scary, and just flat out dreadful. 

You see, this is hard because I want to push myself out of my comfort zone, I want to think I am a constant learner, but the truth of the matter is- things outside of my comfort zone intimidate me.  Being a mom, every new stage is out of my comfort zone, and like I did when I left college, I go kicking and screaming into each new stage of my boys life (well not literally- most days).  It is like I have just mastered one thing, and then the whole sha-bang changes on me. 

Just the other day, my lil monkey did something pretty awesome.  We were walking down our stairs, and I started counting (a very normal activity), and he started counting with me...all the way to 7.  YES- 7, my baby is a genius!!  I instantly called my husband, and demanded to know who had taught him how to count-I was sure it wasn't me.  After my initial shock, we got in the car and went about our day.  Something funny happened, I realized I was crying... sobbing, rather.  And not happy tears because of his accomplishment, but sad tears.  Sad, selfish tears- I realized, my baby is not a genius, he just isn't a baby anymore.  YUCK.  There it is... change.  New stage, new things, new skills, different life. 

So I have accepted that I hate change... and I have accepted that despite my fear and hatred of change, change is going to happen.  So how do I deal?  Well- it may involve some kicking and screaming... but that won't change a thing...      

From one soul to another,
Embrace change

I actually really like my husband...

So I just re-read the title of this post, and I had to laugh because it just sounds so incredibly wrong... I mean my knee jerk reaction is, "Oh course you really like your husband, you idiot, why else would you have married him?"  Yes- I married my husband because I am in love with him... but I have learned that being in love with someone and liking someone are two very different things.  For instance, I love my sisters.  We have been together through so much.  They are a backbone for me in so many ways.  They support me, love me, and help me through anything.  However, (if you have sisters you can relate) I do not always like my sisters.  My sisters are some of the only people in my life that will tell me like it is... no sugar coating, no being politically correct-they will flat out tell me, and put me in my place if I step out of line.  It is at times like that when I don't really "like" my sisters.

Husbands are the same way.  When you get married, you take an oath to love each other unconditionally.  You pledge that through "sickness or health, for richer or poorer" you will love your spouse... but you do not pledge to like them. Love and like are so different.  Love in many ways is easy, it is emotional, it is nonsensical, it is hard to control.   It is hard to like someone unconditionally.  It takes time, patience, understanding, and most importantly, respect.  I must admit through the chaos of life, I forgot about that.  I admit it, I took my husband for granted... we took each other for granted. I always say at the end of the day when I am tired, and worn down, he gets the worst of me.  And while in the spirit of admitting to my poor behavior, I will admit there are days when I can be more friendly to the drive-thru pharmacist at CVS than to my own husband- the man who promised to "put up" with me for the rest of his life.

So, what made me realize I really like my husband?  A much needed mini-vacation to a ski resort.  We spent two days doing something we love together; skiing.  It was just the two of us, which is a first since before we had the boys.  We chatted like best friends on the lifts, and we supported each other on the slopes down...  He helped me with my form, and I helped him realize he is no longer an 18 year old that can do 360s off jumps.  We had beers at the bottom of the slopes, and told stories, and we laughed- A LOT.  We talked about how lucky we are to have each other, and about how lucky we are to have our lil monkeys who at the time were 150 miles away (thank god:)).   Somehow when we were away from the chaos and stress how everyday life, we were able to take a breathe and realize, damn we are lucky.  We love each other, but more importantly we like each other.  There was no one else in the world I wanted to be with in the middle of the West Virginia mountains, but him.  It was a gentle reminder that we do really make a good match, and I need to remember to take a moment to have a moment together- and like him.

From one soul to another,
Liking is as important as Loving

Trying to "Fit In" Doesn't End in High-school

 I look back on my time in high-school fondly.  I made really great friends. Friends that I have grown up with, friends who I still consider to be some of my closest friends.  We were lucky, when everyone was trying to "find their place" and "fit in," we found each other.  We formed a pact.  A pact that is strong, and still exists through the years.  Unfortunately for us, we have all spread out. There are a few gals still in Pennsylvania, one in Florida, one soon to be in Australia, and me, here in lovely Virginia.  Our bond is still strong despite the miles between us.

Because, I was blessed with finding such great friends in high-school, I often forget about the bumps in the road before we formed our pact. You see, I was an awkward teen. I mean the kind of teenage girl who grew 5 inches in the 9th grade, had braces, and hit puberty really late.  I was so gawky, and skinny and just flat out weird looking. I was insecure and had a really hard time feeling good in my own skin. It wasn't until after our lil pact became a group that I started feeling confident in myself.  It was like I had found my place, found my backbone, and with those ladies behind me I felt like I could conquer the world. They are with me through thick and thin, and we never let things come between us. 

You know recently, I have been feeling like I am back in high-school... Early high-school before I found my friends. Being a new mom kind of makes you feel that way... You are insecure, and you don't really feel confident in what you are doing. I second guess myself on everything... What kind of milk they should be drinking, to what preschool we should attend... I feel as though I am trying to find my place all over again. What kind of mom am I? What kind of family are we? Am I an organic momma who grows all her own fruits and vegetables, and makes her own baby food? Or am I more practical in the sense that I am okay with buying pre-canned food? Cloth diapers or disposables? Public or private schooling? Where do we fit? And unlike high-school where you are making the decisions for yourself... This Is a big deal- my two lil men's lives depend on these choices... It is enough to keep one awake at night, and believe me it does.

Through all my second guessing, I guess what I've learned through all of this is; my main goal is to have a happy, well balanced family.  If i stay focused on that goal, i believe i will eventually find my place, find my groove, and "fit in."

From one soul to another,

BE TRUE

Hair changes things.

 You know that feeling after you just get a hair cut, and it is the first time you wash it yourself in the shower... The feeling that somehow by cutting off the dead ends you are all of a sudden refreshed, healthier, and hopefully a little more attractive?  Or the feeling when you get a bad haircut, or better yet -you decide it would be more cost efficient to dye it yourself because well- how hard an it be?  Only to find yourself staring in the mirror at an awful shade of ashy blue/blond and three boxes of used hair dye kicking yourself for not just paying a professional?  Or the feeling you get when you see a cancer patient who has lost there hair- it evokes an emotion. It is like a war wound meaning so much more than just hair... Or even more devastating when you see a child surviving cancer without hair... It makes your heart bleed.  And you you think, no child should have to endure that battle. It becomes more than hair.

Hair can tell us so much.  Think about it, when we are babies a lot of us start off bald, then it grows and it changes through you life.  I used to have perfectly straight hair, but when I hit puberty I got a frizzy curl thing going on, then when I was pregnant back to the straight... Now I am starting to spot grays...   It is constantly changing....

Well I guess it is obvious, this past week I have been thinking a lot about hair.  I took the boys to get their first haircut.  It was really long overdue.  They are 18 months old, and Austin's hair has been in his eyes for months.  The actual process of getting their hair cut is a story in itself which I will save for their blog, but the aftermath is what taught me that hair changes everything.  It is like all of a sudden I have boys... not babies, hardly toddlers, but real boys. They look mature and boyish, and well as a mom I think one of the hardest things is to let go.   Maybe that is why I have been holding off on getting their haircut for so long, I didn't want to let go of their babyhood.  When you have a baby you spend everyday thinking about their growth. When they are newborns you see a doctor almost weekly to make sure they are growing physically at an adequate rate, when they are a little older you worry if they are developmentally growing, and emotionally growing, and socially growing... All this worry about growth then to cut off something that is growing- well it just seems a bit counterproductive.

Yes, I know I am making a big deal about their hair, but it has changed things.  It has changed my perspective of my lil men... I think I realized that one day in the near future they are actually going to be lil men.

From one soul to another,
Snip snip

Self humility is all you need for a good laugh!

 This past Saturday I took a class at the gym, Athletic Conditioning.  It was my second week in a row taking it so I knew what to expect... Intense circuit training all lead by a crazy little man, Blaise.  Blaise is the kind of instructor who is loud, explosive, and not afraid to call you out when you don't give every exercise your best effort.  Oh and on top of it, I swear he drinks about 40 cups of coffee before coming to teach back to back classes every Saturday morning.  Last week as we were running up and down the gym stairs, the lady next me said she was going to throw up because it was so hard.  I was right there with her, choking back vomit, and trying to avoid Blaise's criticisms of how slowly I was climbing the stairs...  

Despite the intense torture, I returned today.  I was ready! Ready for it all... The yelling, the criticism, the feeling of my body shutting down as I desperately tried to keep going... Bring it on Blaise! I was armed with an extra cup of coffee,and a good nights rest.  Class was going really well.  Blaise even complimented my form during squats!  I was on a high! I was strong and plowed right through class feeling like the queen of the world- Blaise complimented my squats- hell ya!  It wasn't until he put on the slow cool down music (Michael Jackson- Man in the Mirror-great song) that I realized my humility.  I had a huge tear in the back of my yoga pants.  The kind of tear that you could clearly see my underwear.  I was so focused perfecting my squatting form, I didn't realize the draft.  Awesome.  At that point there was nothing left to do but laugh...  Laugh at my self for taking the class so seriously all while my underpants were showing!  Haha... Even now As I type this I can't help but to giggle.  It was a great reminder to stop taking life so seriously, and laugh- even if it is at yourself... Oh and it was also a reminder to buy new workout gear!

From one soul to another,

LAUGH

It's okay to cry...

 A few different stories have lead me to today's finding; "It's okay to cry.". However, the one that sticks with me the most happened this fall, when the boys and I joined a toddler music class.  The class was held weekly, every Friday.  It was the second week of class and the boys were running wild throughout the open auditorium the class was held in. Their was a woman there with her two small sons. The older out the two, who was about 3, was also running wild throughout the auditorium and managed to trip another unsuspicious toddler.   The woman, who was carrying her newborn son in a moby wrap on her chest, just crumbled into her hands and started to tear up.  I noticed her because I was tracking her son with my eyes who was running along with my two monkeys.  I,myself, had just choked down tears on the ride over to music class that morning when both boys decided to scream and cry the entire ride.  When I saw her put her face in her hand, it was my instant reaction to go and put my arms around her.  "I just don't know why he misbehaves," she said.  I, knowing exactly what she was feeling, replied, " you know I've thought the same thing and my two lil men, and it's okay to cry.". There it was out of my own mouth, an acceptance of my own vulnerability; tears.  You know what, she buried her head in my shoulder, even if only for a brief moment, and cried.  Good for her.

As women, we are so fearful to let ourselves cry.  We have to be everything to everyone: a mom, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend... it is hard and we are so hard on ourselves on top of it all... And we forget WE ARE STRONG... tears and all.   There are times in everyone's life where showing vulnerability and raw emotion are true sign of strength, and you know what... It's okay to cry. 

From one soul to another,

CRY

What this blog is about....

I just recently returned home from being away for business in Jonesboro, Arkansas.  While in the airport, I started to think about all the things I learned while I was away.  I instantly grabbed my phone and used the "notepad" application to start recording what I had learned.  After I read through my notes, I thought; "wouldn't it be great to start a journal to keep track of all this stuff?"  Ha- I have never been good about keeping a journal or a diary- but there is one thing I have grown to enjoy, and that is blogging.  Blogging is an online journal right?  So I thought- why not start a blog about things that I learn or discover on a day to day basis?  I have always thought of myself as extremely observant, and touched by my surroundings, and what better way to keep track of these observations than to write them down.  So that is what this blog is about- my recordings of the things I come across in daily life.  Some days I am sure I will have really profound things to say (ha- right) while other days might just be a ramble of my findings, failings, and experiences as an individual.  Either way- I think it will be therapeutic to get this stuff on paper- even if it is "virtual online paper."   I often have a hard time expressing myself verbally, but I seem to be able to express myself through writing... so for me I am using this blog as a forum to express my thoughts, feelings, opinions, and findings of everyday life.

Okay- so what did I learn while away in Jonesboro, AK?  Below is what I recorded on my notepad:

Things I've Learned in Jonesboro:
1- Happiness, hope, and passion are everywhere as long as I am willing to see it.
2- I miss my kids more than I have ever missed anything or anyone in my entire life- they are my home, and I am homesick.
3- Airports motivate me.  I feel like they are a place where people from all walks of life collide, and it is a great equalizer of all mankind.  Everyone has to go through security, everyone has to follow proper protocol no matter how wealthy, important, or arrogant one is... I often feel like I can do or be anyone when in an airport.  I feel like I can talk to anyone, even people I would usually be intimidated by- like the man in first class wearing a rolex...  
4- I can't control things when I am not there- let it go Lauren let it go...
5- Everyone has a story- all you gotta do is ask.
6- Stories inspire me.
7- People are a lot braver than one could imagine.

From One Soul to Another- PEACE!