Thief {the weight loss journey}

"Comparison is the thief of joy." Theodore Roosevelt
This has to be one of my favorite quotes.  I had seen it on Pinterest, but it brought me more meaning at the Elevate Conference last May, when Ashley talked about blogging truths.  She used the quote to reiterate: This [blogging] is not a competition.  She was so right, but the quote has stuck with me and has popped up in other areas of my life.  Financially, emotionally, and as of late physically.
A year ago, I had just run Color Me Rad.  A huge feat for someone who swore on her iPhone that she hated running.  Training for Color Me Rad taught me that if I started slow, I could fall in love with running.  I may have been running at a snails pace, but I still ran that whole thing, which took me about 30 minutes.  The fact that I ran for 30 minutes was cause for celebration, but so was the size of my thighs.  The ability to fit in a smaller sized pant.  A body that I really liked.

That's pretty much my routine.
source

But like most things in my life, I fell off the wagon.  I got busy.  The rest of my life got in the way, and since there was nothing to "train" for, I let it go.  I ran occasionally when I had the chance, but never with the same intensity.  Sadly I didn't change my eating habits but, given that I already eat pretty clean, I eat a lot.  I can sit down and eat a large piece of chicken, salad, an apple, half an avocado... I could go on, but even writing that here makes me feel pretty gross.  It's just I've never been able to control portions.  I'm sure this is nothing new to any of you who have fought the weight loss battle before.
So fast forward to June.  After a few months sitting at a desk for a part time stint at my seasonal job.  Late nights, super early mornings, and the obsession that I had to drop 10 pounds, only to gain 5 instead.  I made excuses to avoid exercise, and even when I did, I complained.  I let Jillian kick my ass for 2 full weeks before I gave up, promising myself I would get out there and run.  I think I ran twice the entire month.

Every morning, every night.
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Even when I was prepping for Vegas, I ignored the creeping scale.  I ignored the tightness in my shorts.  I blamed it on my almost 40 metabolism.  I blamed it on not having the time to cook.  The hot Fresno summer being too hot to run, or walk or do anything.  I blamed everything and everyone except myself.
Hello self.  Get your shit together.
My friend Julie started the 10 pounds by 10/10 program on her blog, just about 4 weeks ago. It was a way to motivate us bloggers that were looking for a reason to get moving.  For those of us who felt like we needed to drop some pounds.  I joined in thinking this was just what I needed.  Thinking I would push myself to lose those last 10 pounds that are threatening to ruin fall and jeans weather for me.  As of now, I only have one pair that fit.  One pair.  And it's not the pair that still has the tags on them!  So 10 by 10/10 was going to work for me.
But here I am.  No obvious changes.  I have been working out for 40 minutes 4 mornings a week.  I've kind of changed my eating habits by cutting out things like nuts and raisins.  I've cut back on the avocados.  Added in some more eggs whites and taken out some egg yolks.  

I mean really.  How awesome would this be??
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Friends, the scale has not budged.  My jeans don't fit any better than they did 4 weeks ago. I'm still hungry when I go to bed.  And I've been so frustrated.
Then last week I went for my annual exam (blog post to follow on that trip).  As I was ushered back to step on the scale, I whined, Do I have to?  And the nurse, so sweet and polite, said "If I looked like you, I'd weight myself every day".  Perspective can punch you straight in the nose people.  
For the stranger that sees me, I'm sure they see a skinny bitch with nothing to complain about.  That would be true.  However no one knows how tight my jeans and shorts are.  No one knows how different my body looks behind closed doors.  No one knows how it feels to know, you have let yourself down.  But I needed every bit of that comment from my nurse that day.  I needed to be reminded that it's not about being skinny, it's about being healthy.  It's about feeling good, and moving.  Even if you move at a snails pace.  It's about acknowledging that bigger jeans aren't the end of the world, even though they feel that way.
That night after my annual, I went for a run.  I was surprised that I could run for long periods of time, with little walking breaks in between.  It felt great.  Just me and the pavement.  Music blasting in my ears.  And just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, Holy Grail came on. And I pushed myself.  Giving it all I had.  Because I was tired of comparing myself to a jean size.  A portion of food.  A picture of a person who is five inches taller than me and 10 years younger.
Comparison is a thief. And I can't let that bitch steal from me anymore.

Linking up

Encouraging the (im)possible

My daughter is a dreamer.  Much like her mother.  At six, she already has a plan mapped out for her life.  She wants to be a fashion designer, a hair dresser, a dancer, a rock star.  She wants to sing like Taylor Swift.  She wants to act like the kids on Jessie.  Recently she told me she wants to be in commercials.  I remember being six, and twelve, and eighteen, and twenty four.  Dreaming about my life.  What I wanted to be, what I wanted to do.  So as we have these conversations, Caitlin and I, I always agree that she can be whatever she dreams to be.
Deep down I know the truth.  The odds of being the next Taylor Swift are slim.  Becoming the next Michael Kors may never happen.  That no matter the level of her dramatics, becoming the next Disney star is almost nil.  Add to all of that the fact that she is tone deaf, much like her mother.  I don't mention any of it.  I've never said a word about her singing, her drawing, her choice in mixing prints (which is pretty good if you follow along on Instagram).  I will never deter her from believing she can be the next big (insert something epic here).  Because her life will be full of deterrents.  Many of them she will bestow upon herself.
I know because I battle myself every day.  I always have.  Am I smart enough?  Am I pretty enough?  Am I successful enough?  Am I a good enough mom?  Am I doing this right?  I look at Caitlin with dreams so fresh and sweet and long for that life.  The life before I knew "no".  The life before I knew failure.  I want to bottle that for her.  To capture her and her dreams in a bubble and keep them safe.  I want her to always have that.  
Caitlin is beautiful and tenacious.  She is stubborn and sensitive.  She is a dreamer, and a planner, and a list maker.  All shades of her mother.  All characteristics of a type A in the making.  As her mother, I'm trying my hardest to foster confidence.  To confirm that she can be all that she dreams.  All while worrying about that day when someone tells her she's tone deaf, or that she can't draw, or that she just can't.  I'm not looking forward to that, because I know, once the seed of doubt is planted, it grows from the inside out.
For now I take comfort in knowing that she is confident in herself.  In her fashion choices.  In her voice, and in her song.  I love how she sings even though she doesn't know the words.  I love that she makes up her own songs and scripts as she plays with dolls or ponies.  I love that she creates and dreams without fear or hesitation.
A few weeks ago, she discovered the "cups song".  It's been on repeat ever since.  She wants to practice and perform it in next years talent show.  I say a hesitant yes, as I know she will undoubtedly change her mind.  Like she does with most of her plans and dreams.  Like she does as the years go by.  She continues to change, and dream, and plan a grand and happy life.

view the video here

And who am I to stop her?

I'll be linking up with Amanda. How about you?

Regrets {I have a few}

source via Pinterest

I transferred all my iPhone pictures to my PC over the weekend.  For fun, I started shuffling threw a few that I had downloaded a few months ago.  It was then that I came across a few Instagram photos that I'm not proud of.  I'm even embarrassed by them.  It was from a time that I may not have handled myself in the most graceful way.  It got me thinking about regret. Sometimes when we are in the thick of "it", we are blind to see consequences.  We are blind to the second side of the story.  We are blinded by our own pain, our own anger, and by our own self importance.  Regret, can sometimes cut you to your core.
Then I started thinking about regrets in general.  The time I should have done "B" instead of "A".  The friendships I just let wither on the vine, without explanation.  The instances when I should have exercised caution or held my tongue.  All tinged with regret.
When I was at Elevate in May, I asked a more experienced blogger how I should deal with my first real blogging regret.  It's not that I think what I did was wrong, it's that I feel like I should have handled it better.  Of course when I approached her, she wanted some back story.  I was happy to oblige, but I was sincere and honest about my regret.  Do I got back now and handle it?  Do I send an apology for acting like a fool? Do I publicly handle it on my blog?  What she told me spoke volumes about the type of blogger she is.  She told me to let it go.  She said to rehash now would just open old wounds.
But she noticed that I was still holding out for an action.  Something I could do to be honest with myself.  She suggested that I write about it.  It's taken me this long to find the words.  To really understand that I was wrong in my actions, but not my feelings.  It's really hard to separate the two.  How many times to we regret something, but for the wrong reasons?  I've been thinking and thinking how I could have approached my pain and disappointment differently.  I've come to find that maybe there wasn't a way.  Maybe the way I handled myself was the best way I knew how at the time.
I think that's the issue with regrets.  When you look back on any regret after a year, don't you see that regret in a different light?  A year changes a lot of things.  Maybe we are wiser, maybe we are clearer, maybe we have less pain or more confidence in a situation.  Whatever the reason, regrets pop up because we now realize a flip side to the situation.
I'm working on identifying my regrets.  There are a million and one quotes on Pinterest about how we should never have regret, how we should live, take chances, even speak up, loudly if necessary.  Yet, those quotes are there to pin, because sadly we may always have a regret.  Big or little, hopeless, or hopeful; regret may just be what changes us as we go along.
Regrets, I have a few. And thankfully, they teach me something new every time.


Linking up with Amanda for Desire to Inspire

Elevate: The Message

Sometimes, when blogging takes over your life, when your laundry is piled higher than your five year old, and there is not a single clean fork available, you rethink this blogging thing.  You look at the hours you spend, when your children are awake, when your children are asleep, when your husband is waiting for you in bed, while you slave away at the keyboard, and your think... Is this worth it?  Is pushing myself to the limit time and again worth it?  I struggle with this sometimes as my blogging is a hobby.  It doesn't make me money.  And for a time I was trying to break into the blogging world for the money, but lately, it's more about writing and connecting with people.  With readers, who eventually become friends.  I think that's why Elevate was more to me than a blog conference.  It was more than meeting a few of my blogging idols in person.  It was the simple idea that these women felt very much the same way that I did...
I am doing this right?  And for the right reasons?
Sarah, from Little Penelope Lane had a story of bravery and perseverance.  She talked about raising a child with extras, and giving birth to a small business organically.  But she also talked about using your words for a greater good.  She talked about blogging your story, a story that's important to you, that may be important to someone else.  Trust me when I tell you that Sarah's blog saves lives.  Sarah told the story of a mother, who's baby had been diagnosed, inutero with Spina Bifida, and had wrote on the Baby Central message boards that she had made the decision to terminate.  Others on the site at the time, linked Sarah's blog and a list of others, so she could read that Spina Bifida was not the end of her journey.  Sarah said that she, and the cavalry of other blogging moms sent her IMs and messages.  Then Sarah said she got the message that meant everything, The mom had decided against termination thanks to the cavalry.  One life saved.
Today the story brings the same tears as it did that day.  No one knows how their story will affect another, until we try.  Until we write our story, share our story, and hopefully inspire others.  At the end of Sarah's session, her message was simple, "Use your words.  Tell your story.  Make a difference".
Erin's session was fun and inspiring.  You can't be around Erin without taking on some of her energy.  And even though she says she blogs about nothing, she does blog about something.  Happiness.  Erin encouraged us to blog with purpose.  To really know the Why.  Why do we blog?  Why do we take the time away from other things in our lives to do this?  What is important about this?  She asked some of us to share our "why". So of course I did, after writing it in my notebook.  Yes, I took notes, ok, I'm a nerd!  My "why" was simply, "To save mothers from themselves".  I stand by that.  I've had emails from mothers, thanking me for my honesty.  Mother's thanking me for telling my story, as rough as it may have been.  Thanking me for making them feel normal, or in fact a good mother.  That my friends is my "why".  It truly is the only reason I need.  If I can connect with one mom a day, to take away her guilt, to take away some pain, or just let her know that she is not alone, then this blog has been worth every sacrifice.
Kimmie, oh, Kimmie.  She started out with, "You are so much bigger than your blog".  Thank you Kimmie. Because don't we forget sometimes?  When our followers box stays and hovers at the same number?  When a few followers on Facebook drop off daily?  Why does any of this matter?  It really doesn't.  We are so much bigger than this.  I am really bigger than my blog.  My blog is only a piece of me, and while I'm always happy to over share, it's not all of me.  I have a life outside of this.  I have to remember that.  This message couldn't have been more appropriate since I had just announced a Hiatus.  

Kimmie's message.  Elise's artwork.

The picuture above was part 2 of Kimmie's message.  She said that someone can only call you the "c word" so many times before you break.  Let me just say that knowing that someone could think that of her makes me sick, and sad.  Kimmie, with her story and spirit, are inspiring.  She is right. My worth is not defined by what others think.  I've had my share of negative anonymous comments.  I'm sure there are lists of people and readers who do not like my brand of blogging, and that has to be ok.  I don't blog for them.  I blog for me, and sometimes for you.  So that we can connect on a deeper level.  Sounds lame, but it's really true.  We must not forget that we aren't defined by negative comments or a drop in followers.  We are define ourselves.  What's in our hearts.  And we can't allow others to take that from us!
Ashely's message to me, was simple and directly for me.  I am blogging for the right reason.  Her overlying theme: Ask why, set goals, define success.  How I define success, may be different from how you define success.  That's a good thing.  When I started this blog I just wanted a place to feature and practice my craft, writing.  I didn't set out to be the next Little Miss Momma, Sugar and Dots, or Living in Yellow.  I set out to share my opinions on motherhood with the world... Or so I thought.  Somewhere along the way, I felt like my writing wasn't enough.  I needed crafts, and recipes, sponsors, and giveaways.  And I got lost.  My writing took a backseat, and the blog began to feel like a job and not so much as a hobby.  So recently I took it all back.  I looked at what I really wanted, and what I really want is to write.  A book, a magazine feature, a newspaper article.  To have my work published in print is how I'm defining my success.  That's the path that I'm on.  
Ashley had so many great ideas and blogging truths to share.  Find your voice, and your niche.  Be consistent in your voice.  I liked that, because while your blog can always adapt to your life, your voice, who you are should never change.  She started her session with the quote, "That which is most personal is most universal".  Always be you on your blog, don't paint a picture of someone you want to be, or someone else entirely.  It's really true.  The times that I'm raw, honest, and sometimes letting you in on my horrible days, are the posts that get the most feedback.  So it's important to be personal (within your comfort zone) and be honest.  I can tell you that Ashley is 100% the person she is on her blog, which is really refreshing and kind of exciting. She also talked about setting boundaries with your time.  Knowing that you can do anything but not everything.  That is an important takeaway for every blogger.  Also she said that when you feel like you need to pull the plug, quit the blogging world, delete your blog, take a moment to think about why you feel that way.  Are you quitting for the right reasons?  Take a look at what is getting you at that moment and reevaluate your goals.  Wow, right?  This was seriously like blogging 101.
I had some major takeaways burned in my brain from Ashley's session.  The first:
Comparison is the thief of joy
This is not a competition.  We are not competing for readers.  Even if it seems that way.  We are not.  Readers come here for something entirely different than what they find other places.  That's good, in fact it's great.  Who wants to read similar content everywhere they go.  No one wants to read Pride and Prejudice written by me, or Stephanie Meyer.  They want to read it by Ms. Austen herself.  So why would we go to blog after blog to read the same content?  We wouldn't.  So we have to stop competing with each other.  Our blogs are ours.  If we blog it, they will come.
The 2nd takeaway is just personal to me.  Ashley was answering questions about comments.  It seems that comments are on the decline.  With a million ways to show love on Twitter and Facebook, comments on actual blog posts have been taking a back seat.  So Ashley was asking about comments, and talking about how they are the best feedback.  She also talked about anonymous comments.  Her tip for ANON comments, Kindness.  Yup, kindness.  I'm going to have to try that.  But at the end she said that SILENCE is the worst.  Not a single comment on a post.  And that shot me right in the heart.  As she said, "silence hurts too".  She is so right.  After putting my heart and soul into a post, to have it met with silence is killer.  I'm not saying that to invoke a commenting frenzy here, I'm just sharing, because as writers and blogger, your feedback means everything.  And as a blogger, this makes me want to take the time to comment more. To let the blogger know, hey, I love this!  Kindness people.  At every turn.
This post was way longer than expected, so I apologize.  If you haven't noticed Elevate did just what it said it would, Elevate me to the next level.  It confirmed that I'm doing this for all the right reasons.  It showed me that I can use my words and tell my story.  It proved that I am bigger than this blog, and sometimes that means stepping away for a moment.  It inspired me to never forget my why, to always remember my goals, and to always define success on my terms.  
Like I said last Friday, I'm Elevated and ready to rock!

The quest to be mom

I spend the majority of time in this place writing about my trials in motherhood.  I complain about whinny crying babies.  I complain about sleepless nights, early mornings, potty training, and poop.  I complain about not enough me time, not enough us time, not enough time period.  I spend lots of time complaining about being a mom.  
It never occurred to me that I'm blessed to have a complaint.
Before I became a mother, I didn't know that for some women, motherhood is a quest.  I was of the school of thought that you got pregnant, you had a baby, you became mom, end of story.  I didn't know anything about loss and infertility.  It took 9 months to conceive Caitlin, and I was getting worried.  I was told by my doctor that I had old eggs (at 28 no less).  I was told by my mother in law that time was wasting.  I was told by my mother that she wasn't getting any younger.  I was told a lot of things, but none of those were that conceiving was impossible.  Because that just didn't occur to me.
But today it does.  Today I know someone who is in the throws of infertility.  She is quite possibly on the last leg of her journey.  She's had heartbreak and disappointment.  She's had a struggle with her faith.  She's had to come to grips with the "impossible".  She's had to endure things that I know nothing about.
I have no words that will comfort her.  That is so hard for me.  What can I say?  I know that she reads my blog, and I wonder, does she want to choke me?  Tell me how lucky I am that I have mouths to feed, or butts to wipe?  Does she have to turn away some days because I'm so "overwhelmed" with being a mother?  What can I say to comfort her?  I know nothing of her struggle.  Quite frankly I can't even imagine.
Today I want to say to her that mothers are made from many cloths.  Sometimes they are made in unconventional ways.  There is no single journey to motherhood.  The roads are different for every one.  Some of us take one fork, some of us take another.  No matter the way, we all end up at the same place.  Motherhood.
Today I want to offer her an extra prayer.  I want to offer her my hand to hold.  I want to offer her words of inspiration.  I want her to know that in her quest for motherhood she is not alone.  She is not the last.  She is not at the finish line.  Because mothers never give up.  They will never take no for an answer.  They always trudge on, through the trenches.  There is no finish line, when you are a mom.
I want her to know, that in her quest to be a mom, she already is one.

Amanda has been writing in honor of NIAW,  be sure to check out her posts.
Also linking up here.