little bites of elephant

mission...... in progress.
and if you read this blog you know that this is an improvement. for once i feel like im getting shit done. for realz. the little things are starting to snowball into actual accomplishments. things ive been meaning to do are actually getting done. case in point: i finished k's quiet book*. this may not seem like the greatest accomplishment- but this is huge, people. the quiet book is the craft that i wanted to do... i sketched it out, bought the felt and fabric, scoured pinterest for inspiration, and even started cutting out felt pieces. and then i put it in a box and didnt touch it for 10 months. part of me was wrestling with 'omg this would take forever to sew' and 'omg i hate sewing' and finally i said, 'fuck it, im just going to hot glue the damn thing.' AND IT GOT DONE. its beautiful! its stupendous! its creative! mom thinks i should sell them! k loves it! i want to show everyone how awesome it is. i am proud of it! it is something that I made. but the real point here is that i followed through on something. this is probably the first unnecessary (as in, not bound to finances or moving or whatever) thing that i have started and finished in i have no idea how long. and i feel good.

i think the quiet book is the first tangible accomplishment among a few things i have cookin these days. another big thing is that im training for a 10k. i started my 8 week- printed-off-the-internet-schedule back in december and im still rolling with it. technically i should be at week 6 or 7 but christmas obligations and a week of killer pms kinda got in the way, but im back at it- restarted on week 3 and plowing ahead. i really enjoy running on the treadmill- i bust out 2 or 3 miles as fast as i can and i feel as though i could take over the world afterwards! plus its 45 minutes of alone time with my music, thoughts and sweat. another related thing i am working on is not smoking. i hit a wall with running (since i was smoking the same before the christmas/pms break) and i was dying after 3 miles. so i figured, hmm if i stop smoking so much then maybe i can run harder/farther. i bought one of those electric cigarettes and honestly i dont even use it that much. i still smoke here and there but havent bought a pack in over a week. and thats major for me. so im starting off 2013 in wayyyyyyyyy better shape both financially, physically, and mentally than i ever imagined.

2013 will be the year of following through getting shit done. my resolution in one word is 'smarter.' that covers all my bases- smarter about my health, smarter about finances and being frugal, smarter about planning my day/week, smarter about how i live and how it affects others. smarter about my limits. i always set huge goals for myself and feel frustrated when i cant reach them. i read this: 'you cant eat an elephant whole, you have to cut it up first.' or something like that. little bites of my delicious elephant -overall awareness of the big picture when im stuck in the moment- will get me farther than trying to eat that shit all at once.

btw the picture is from pinterest (where else!?) and if its your pic im sorry, it was too cute not to use

fat.

ive really let myself go. really really really. according to my BMI i am overweight. 25 more pounds and im obese. thats some scary shit. i need to detox my life. step one in recovering from a three year symposium of lazies is to STOP EATING SO MUCH SHIT. but because i have the self-control of a cat in heat, that is my biggest hurdle. oh not the fact that im completely grossed out when i look in the mirror... one would think that would be my biggest motivation. or the fact that i wear nothing but my grey hoodie because it hides my shame. OR the fact that its been on my resolution list for the past 3 years. or the irony that im shoveling fruit loops in my mouth as i type. or my 6-months-pregnant-looking belly that i have when im definitely NOT preggers.
step one is major detox. oh wait step one is stop eating shit. step TWO is detox. step two is based on a mostly plant-based diet that i am stealing from http://www.irocksowhat.com/ because we have the same before pictures. well mine is not before, its now. but soon it will be my before. she has this amazing detox that she did and lost some serious weight. step three then would be toning up by exercising. step four would be basking in the glow of my awesomeness.  when will then be now?  SOON.

am i doing this right?

pinterest can suck it.

wait, i take that back. it is awesome because now i have more ideas on what to do with k during the day (yay fun art projects, montessori-esque fine motor work and diy everything). problem is that gave me a whole new level of parental anxiety. AM I BLOWING IT? my precious, precious time home with my daughter before she goes to either preschool next year or kindergarten in two years and all these assholes on pinterest via more asshole bloggers who are constantly doing these amazing things with their children. i have one child, my house is a perpetual disaster, i can barely shower during the day (STILL!).... but are these bitches for real? or do they put up this perfect front like they have it together when the day to day bullshit is just like mine?

toddlers are tornados of mess and giggles with the attention span of 5-10 minutes, tops. they are awake for around 12 hours, and because i am horrible with math, lets just say that life with a toddler is perpetual motion, in every direction, all at once. some days are chill, some are busy, some are trying, some days are sweet and perfect, some are good for me, some better for her, and some days she hangs out with her grandparents so i get a break. every day is different at home- its structured.. loosely. every trip has an exit strategy, every grocery run has 3 bags of opened something at the check out (cheese, goldfish, blueberries are the usual), but every day is magical. i try to teach her kindness with smiles, how ya doins and thank yous to strangers. we count things, we spell letters, we recognize signs and places, we sing and i talk about everything we see. at home she helps me stir anything im cooking, we do puzzles and she goes off (sometimes) to use her imagination with her toys. we see friends now and then, we visit family and i desperately try to get her to take a nap. i make her toys if i am really inspired by a skill she needs to work on, but just as happy if she zips my hoodie up and down over and over while my quiet book materials sit quietly in the spare room waiting to be sewn together. we read, we watch tv, we dance to music, we color and we snuggle. we go outside, we jump in puddles, we get dirty, we sort laundry. we count flowers, smell everything, listen to birds, watch airplanes go by and lay in the grass- and it feels like i only have a few more of these magical days left before school starts.

some moms make it look easy, like they appear have it together. or do we all think that? does anyone actually say to themselves in the mirror, "you are the shit. keep doing what youre doing, you know you are an amazing mother." i know i havent that often. i look to others for validation, to make myself feel better, but i know what im doing is right because it is out of love. why is it so hard to accept? and why is it so easy to feel like should be doing a better job?

i need to start telling myself im doing it right. because i am the shit. and so are you.

torture

torture is a track on the wu tang masterpiece album 36 chambers, but this might be worse. im currently being tortured through the ear holes by a magic bullet of guilt that made a few left turns and is making my heart twist up into a knot of sads. k is crying. and not just crying, its crying from bed and saying, "i want my mommy!!!!!" apparently daddy is not worthy of putting her to bed anymore and so the guilt is bubbling up because i am not a fan of cry it out. totally dont judge the people that do, but damn its hard- how do you do it? its against all my motherly instincts to sit here and blog about how i feel about all this, but at the same time i am tortured by the fact that im allowing this to be an option. and so the internal dialog starts spinning- if i keep giving in and "rescuing" her, am i holding her back from independence? if i dont, am i doing something worse? she is full-out into the irrational fear stage (bugs and the talking moose at bugaboo creek top the list of scary things) so should i just let her take a step back so she feels better by my reassurance or do i hold firm so she can build from within, given that im there for her all day, every day?

well shit, she stopped crying.

nevermind.

p.s. wu tang forever

on a lighter note...

so youre not calling the psych ward to say im on my way back in, things arent as awful as my previous post made them out to be. why, you may ask?? because its march 1 and its sunny and daffodils are blooming!!! so onward and downward into the abyss of f words and the latest things going on in my life!

my daughter is obsessed with the disney princesses. obbbsesssedddd wtf. shes never even SEEN a princess movie (confession: cinderella is en route from amazon) yet shes is thoroughly memorized with anything that features those whores. it all started with the princess pull-ups that her grandmother bought and has steadly built up to a fever pitch with needing EVERYTHING princess. not just regular old princesses- DISNEY princesses. ugh shes not even three but the mouse got her already.

im still fat. the few pounds i lost found some friends and came back. so im saying fuck you to my fatness and am going to work out. for real this time. im so serious about it i bought the 'brazil butt-lift' from the makers of p90x. the commercial had me hooked the moment i saw my ass in all the before pictures and what my ass could be in all the after pictures. im going to be hot again, dammit.

i bought some satin pjs. in my continuing effort to feel sexy again i went to fredericks.com and found some super cute (and cheap! yay!) satin pajamas to sleep in. not sexy ones, but satin ones so i feel a bit more pretty. because waking up in the same sweatpants i went to bed in and then wearing them all day is sad beyond sad and im tired of it!!!!! when they arrive im putting them away where my excessive amount of spanx and shapers are stored. because when my ass is brazilalicious, i wont need them!!!

im going to cook healthy now. well ok mostly healthy. ive come to the conclusion that although chris would eat ground beef (and wont accept anything besides 80/20) every day for his entire life if i let him, im the one suffering from a case of the chubbies from it. so im going to take my brazillian butt lifting menu and start making shit from it. if chris is upset, oh well, he can go get mcdonalds because im sick of eating like a fat man. and im tired of feeling guilty that im setting a terrible example for k in terms of what is acceptable to eat.

farts. k thinks that farts, fart sounds, and saying fart is the funniest thing ever. which is natural being that i too think anything fart related is hilarious. i feel bad for her future teachers. haha

tails. k also has a new thing about having a tail. this would involve her running around naked after getting her diaper changed/or im attempting to get her dressed. she watched a little too much winnie the pooh at her grandparents because she says shes eyeore as she jams a baby wipe up her ass and runs around with her new "tail."

i have a prescription for vicodin!!! yay!!!! its almost out, which im beyond sad about, and ill probably stash a few for the next time im in need of a mini vacay for the brain. and no i didnt find the awesomest doctor ever who knows what i need to get me by... i was in the hospital last weekend for a ruptured ovarian cyst. that shit was painful. lets just say i just about jumped off the hospital bed during my pelvic exam. and i cant even think about the ultrasounds i had- they were even worse. oh lets just put this gigantic dildo shaped microphone where it hurts and jab it around!!!! its usually my idea of fun, but in this case it was far from it. i did have a good time being fucked up on the good shit dilaudin... weeee!!! still kinda sore though. overall i give the experience a b-. it would be a d for the pain, but the painkillers and massive amount of sleeping i did brought the grade up a bit.

pinterest. the bestest thing ever for me. i have found so many awesome toddler crafts and fun ideas, i cant keep track of them all. so far everything ive tried with k, she loves. so i highly recommend it. as for my insatiable urge to go shopping or win the lottery to buy everything i love, well theres where i need some professional help.

that is the latest in my wonderful world of all things foxy and toddler management. besides the last post about being incredibly frustrated on doing all the shit work in the house, overall i suppose things could always be worse.

saddled with harmony

i was originally going to make the title of this post "the great divide" to talk about how marriage and your existential view of self is totally ass over teacups once you have a child (even more so for the masochists who have more than one). in a fit of frustration i wrote out what my household responsiblities are (everything) and what the hubby's are (earn paycheck, tell me im pretty). it really got me thinking. being the libra that i am i crave harmony and absolutely hate when things are out of balance and unfair. things are definitely not even stevens around here and its really getting to me.

then i started thinking- am i surprised at this imbalance of responsibility? is this what naturally happens when a woman stays home to tend to the house and child(ren) and the man goes off to work? i tend to take on more responsibility at home and excuse it by telling myself that he works all day and is tired, i dont want to nag him to do dishes/scrub the bathtub/etc. i justify it over and over again, oh im home, therefore its my job to do xyz since im so lucky to be able to be home in the first place. but this isnt 1958. i am a college-educated woman who is staying home for a few years with my child because it is what i want and what i think is important, but im slowly finding myself identifying with betty friedan a little too much. i totally get the feminine mystique now. i actually feel good about myself if my house is clean, im showered and looking cute and have a fab dinner ready. for approval from the husband (and yeah, a little for me too). ive had this fight with myself before- stop looking for validation from him. but its hard when i feel like im doing it all, all the time and not getting any thoughtful appreciation in return when i try my best to do nice things for him.

i keep reading articles on how couples who share parenting and household responsibilities are happier and have healthier marriages. but this doesnt just happen like, poof! its 2012! things are different, act accordingly!!! it involves a lot of love and concious effort. and unfortunately, i cant do it myself or expect him to do it just because i want him to. its ultimately his choice to make that concious effort. but probably not something he stews over, especially since it would mean more work for him. should i just lower my expectations, suck it up and keep things at the status quo?

truth be told, i am capable of doing it all. im always seeking perfection and im far too hard on myself for not being as i feel i have it in me to be. i can cook, clean, grocery shop, record-keep, pay bills, budget, parent, etc etc because ive had to this whole time. but the question remains, should i have to do it all in this day and age? its the modern feminine mystique of sorts- i have everything i want but it sometimes it feels like its too much. im home with my daughter, check. i have a part-time job, check. ive got great friends and family, check. ive got a wonderful, good husband who lets me do whatever i want, check. but i still find myself frustrated with what i could be doing (running! crafts! reading! going out with my friends!), and what he could be doing to make it a bit more fair.

i read an incredible article about a woman who started asking her family, 'what could i do to love you more?' it lead to a more harmonious household because she was the one who made the concious change of intention.

since no one will ask me that question, i have to ask myself: what could i do to love myself more? expect less? somehow that doesn't seem fair.

going blonde: a retrospective

my sexy is returning. my mojo is brewing. and my groove has finally made a comeback. im feeling pretty again!!!!!! not just pretty- im feeling that im on the way to inner and outer hotness again. and its super exciting. a few dominoes have been falling lately and its all working its way to me feeling like myself again after a few years of what i can only describe as mommy blah boring. lets start with the big one- im losing weight. not a ton (i anyone have p90x i can borrow???) but its a start.. 7 lbs. clothes are starting to fit a little better and its giving me the momentum that i need to keep going. yay! here is the other big one- im working again. ill say for the record that it feels great to be out of the house and work at a hotel again, talking with adults, getting a paycheck, but lets get real. im a shameless attention whore. what i really like is that men flirt with me again. i feel like ive been invisible for a while, with feeling down on myself to feeling dumpy in too-big hoodies to hide myself, so its a much-needed boost to the ego. plus that and i get to see my kryptonite... men in uniform. which makes me very, very happy when they flirt with me, even though i melt into a puddle of blush and its totatally embarrassing. im also enjoying the fringe benefits of this with the hubby- he knows that guys are flirting with me so hes stepping up the game. or maybe hes just happy im bringing home a paycheck again. whatever- its win-win for me!

the second two awakenings to my mojo happened this week. first is that i found my old, lost mp3 player that i used to take to the gym. i havent been to the gym in oh i dont know, 3 1/2 years? but its my workout mix and wow i forgot how much i loved booty-bouncing sexy rap. like, dirty dirty rap that makes me want to grind up on something (the hubby, a lightpost, the refrigerator, etc) and shake it. i listened to it all day while i cleaned the kitchen and the kiddo was at her grandparents. when the hubby got home, i was dancing with him, by myself, all over the kitchen still and he said, 'wow, i havent seen you shake your ass like that in a really long time.' yes, eloquent words are not his strong point. so ive been shaking it everyday since. the next part of the inner bombshell renewal was today. i dusted off the external hard drive (not a euphemism i swear!) and found the pictures i took of myself for the hubby. yes, those kind of pictures. pictures from when i went blonde.

about 5 years ago i went on an antidepressant, which was amazing. i felt like myself again, and in trying to battle my depression i started working out at the gym. (i also smoked a pack a day and drank too many redbulls) i wasnt the healthiest, but i lost some weight, tightened up and looked GOOD. i dressed cute and wore 4 inch heels and dresses to work. then i went blonde. i wanted platinum blonde, but i didnt have enough time/money so i settled for golden. i was at an entirely different level of hot. skinny, blonde, flat stomach perfect boobs that looked perfectly awesome in cute bras...... and then my gorgeously long blonde hair started to crinkle and break off and i had to put some color back in and cut it before it became a full out mullet. and then i got pregnant and all hell broke lose.

my hair is growing back, but my boobs are all saggy and i cant fit into my cute bras anymore, my hips and stomach prevent me from wearing my cute jeans, i wear sweatpants every day at home and hoodies, im jiggy in the wrong places and i swear ive got batwings now for arms. ive got no tone to my muscles- which are now covered in a layer of flub, and i barely ever wear makeup let alone heels because they make my feet hurt for days. and they arent my sexy heels either- they dont fit me or fell victim to the great mildew attack of 2009 in the basement. its a sad state of affairs when i look into the mirror, but in the last week or so i feel it changing. i know my sexy me is in there. with a little hard work (ok make that a lot...) i can look like i used to- and feel good about myself in the process.

and then go back to blonde.