BB #8

"H" shared an affirmation today with us in class.

"You are in irreplaceable character in the most amazing story."

Jodie challenged us to be positive. To look at the positive. To be the positive. To see the glass half full...

Friends, have you noticed I'm a half almost empty - like only a few drops left in the glass - kind of girl?

More like, I'm a glass half full, all about the positivity, pumping full of sunshine - for everyone around me - but kind of dark clouds for me.

Kind of annoying.

No one wants to be around that - around me - when I'm so negative.

When I am in the line above the clouds, surrounded by Angels, and I meet God - I don't want Him to hand me "The Story of Your Life" - the book about me - and read a page that says, "Then, she gave up."

I hope my novel of my past, today and tomorrow reads with some hilarity, some sadness, some challenges, but always, uplifiting.

I don't want to read my story and see that I was the character that gives up.

I have to remember that I am the heroine (the one that saves the day and the most important person...not the drug).

I've - we've - been blessed with the choice - because I believe one chooses to be negative and the other chooses to be positive.


Choice A-

I want to give up BB because my scale and I are in a fight (it refuses to go any lower no matter how much I will it to).

I want to give up BB because I am sore.

Choice B -

Be proud of my 2.5 lbs lost and remember I still have 4 weeks so I can still attain my weight goal if I really put my mind to it (and keep stuff out of my mouth.

Remember that Iz and Craig won't benefit from the number on the scale but from the strength I'm gaining every day - in my body, mind and soul.

Be thankful I have the ability to exercise. That I have breath in my lungs, a heart that beats strongly, and muscles that are sore because they are gaining strength.

I choose: C.

To remember that once upon a time I would have chosen "A" but now know I've grown into a person that realizes "B" is the person I want to be.

Oh - and class was ridiculous hard again. I cried during the "chair sit" but I don't think anyone noticed.

So friends, when you meet your Maker, and He hands you the "Story of Your Life" - how will your book read?

Make it a good one...it's the best story ever told.

BB #7

I want to give up.

I do.

I'm tired. And sore....

I'm not eating as well as I should even though I work out like I'm training for a cage match.

Stupid numbers.

I want to give up.

But, I'm not. Because I owe it to myself to finish.

Head, shoulders, knees and toes...knees and toes.

Head, shoulders, knees, and toes...knees and toes.

Those are the parts that hurt fo' sho's....

Head, shoulders, knees and toes...knees and toes...

We high fived!

Iz had her 15 month visit on Friday.

15 months...

Where did it go?

I watched Iz in the waiting area play with the toys. I watched her and my mind wandered back to her very first visit to her doctor.

I remember thinking how slooooow time was going. How tired I was. How utterly incapable I felt.

But we made it.

Iz is so much more than I could have every wished.

She's been every answered prayer - spoken and unspoken.

The nurse called her name and she walked into the room like a big girl.

She was weighed and measured.

Stats:
Weight: 20 lbs (10th percentile)
Height: 31 inches (75th percentile)

Her doctor walked in, looked at her chart, and exclaimed, "Yay! She's finally 20 lbs!"

And we high fived :-)

Iz has always been a little bitty bug and we we've been keeping an eye on her weight making sure she was on track.

It doesn't matter - breast fed or formula fed (I did both) - she grew exactly how she needed to.

She's my long, skinny baby bug.

She's a big, little girl.

I look at her and see her baby features still. I also look at her and see her turning into a kid.

She's the expert at testing her limits. Loves to tell me no. Eats like a champ. Loves to read books. Loves to be chased. Loves to play outside.

She says about 30 words. Kicks a ball. Pulls on dogs tails. She's almost grown up.

She is in love with her Daddy and asked "Daddy?" all day. She runs to the bedroom and yells, "Daddy?" Then runs to the front door and asks for "Daddy?" again.

The she looks at me, defeat on her face, and says in sad voice, "Daddy?"

But when she hears the garage door open at 4:30 pm - she runs to the back garage door - and yells with excitement "DAAAADDDY!!"

And, then, I become non-existent. It's nothing but Daddy.

Craig is such a great Dad. He is so patient. He smooths her hair back when he reads her book (while she's cuddled up in his lap), gives her a kiss on the head, and says sadly "I can't believe you're going to be big one day and not want to do this."

He feels it too. Time moving exponentially. The inevitable approaching us. A day without kisses, a moment without squeals, a time when we're no longer her best buds.

We cherish it as much as two people can. We try to focus on today and enjoy every second of her - tantrums and all.

I totally understand now when I hear parents say their kids will always be their babies. Because I will always see Iz as my baby. Even when my baby has babies....

It's too fast...

BB #6

Thursday was a rough day for me.

No specifics - just a rough day. One of those days as a Mom that you wish you lived where the green grass grows...you know the other side of the fence. The side where there is no responsibility for a tiny human, no dirty house to return to, consecutive nights of at least 7-8 hours of sleep.

Anyways, enough about the work outs. You guys get the toughness of the sessions.
And even I'm getting tired of talking about my weight...and I obsess about it.

Let's turn our attention to rainbows and puppies, shall we?

A little bit of positivity to start our day.

Enter in: Body Back Thoughts of the Week.

It's one of the things I love about BB are the thoughts Jodie shares with us. I don't know if she gets them from a book or a guru or in visions from Gabriel - but they are good ones.

So friends, think - and I mean - really think about the couple I'm about to share with you in the next couple of blogs. Let it marinate, sink into your pores and get down into your soul.

First thought:

"Talk to yourself as you would talk to your children when you are trying to raise their self-esteem."

- Ouch, right? Talk about a low blow. How many times as women, mothers, fathers (thanks men for reading this estrogen filled blog), friends...are we self deprecating? We attack our appearance, give ourselves a swift kick in the tuckus for not getting a project done, criticize our parenting skills (when really - there is no manual, no book, no nothin' that can give us the tools to raise our kids). How many times do you catch yourself looking in the mirror and giving yourself a once over and see sadness in your eyes because of the extra fluff in the tummy or the extra jiggle in a few - oh alright - lots of spots? And then, you look over, or more like over and down, and you see a little someone looking at you and gazing at you - because YOU are their mirror...you are who they want to be - want to emulate?

And never in a million, bagillion years would you say to your little one "You're fat! You look awful in that dress! You're so stupid for making that mistake! You're just not good enough!"

Stop, friends. Stop it. Let's make a pact now to speak to ourselves how we speak to our children.

Positive, encouraging, proud.

We deserve it, too.

And like we've done so many times before on my little blog, let's make our pact and stick with it friends!

"Ya Ya!"

BB #5

Confession:

I lied to all of you.

I really really wanted to believe in my heart that I want to make myself a whole person, love me for the person I want to be and NOT pay attention to the numbers on the scale...blah, blah, blah.

But, at yesterday's weekly weigh in for BB, I knew that I would either:

A - gain back the weight I lost because of my binge from last week

B - stay completely the same

And I was really hoping for an option "C" - that I lost a pound or two even after I ate fried rice at midnight, quiche til I popped and wings with beer...

Luckily, my weight stayed exactly the same.

Whew.

But, I kind of was dreading the work out. I hadn't really given my all the week before. I wasn't pushing myself. My body didn't feel the soreness that is also goodness.

So, I opened my big fat mouth and told Jodie that I didn't feel sore the week before.

And that unleashed the Beast.

The Beast of all workouts.

My partner for the workout was L. She has an amazing back story and her reasons for doing BB is so inspiring. Her husband and kids have a bone disease and she wants to be stronger for them so when she needs to be their hero and carry them, pick them up from a fall (that happens all too often) - she wouldn't hurt herself. I swear I saw a cape under her tank. That's a hero people...

I could feel the bad food and the crap work out in my body as we began to run, lunge, wall sit, plank, jumping jack...

And it made me regret my food choices.

Eating poorly feels good in the moment but you totally regret it the moment after.

Kind of like when you have too much to drink and you're dancing with the hot guy (or hot enough guy from the beer goggles you have on) and you start snogging him and it's like kissing a lizard...(this is NOT from experience but a story from a friend of a friend...)

Anyhoo...both cases you have an "Ah ha" moment and think to yourself, "What in the he!! was I thinking!"

Sorry...I digress.

But, the Beast workout was aggravated from the Vinasaya Yoga class I took the night before. The yoga class where I was sweating buckets within 5 minutes. The yoga class where I suddenly found myself doing moves only "Twister" could think of but they name them peaceful things like "Crow" and "Tree" and "Warrior" - so they are suddenly very empowering.


Yoga from Monday + BB from Tuesday = Pain

Good pain.

Good sore.

Good God I am sore.

Today is a new day.

Oops

Body Back.

It's about exercise.

And diet.

Exercise part I have down. Sorta.

The diet part I did really well with the first week.

You could say I "fell off the wagon" this week.

I can't lie because when I blog on Tuesday after weigh in there is a great - almost 100% chance I gained back the 2 lbs I lost.

Because I ate:

1 - Sushi rolls, special fried rice and tofu stir-fry - at MIDNIGHT on Thursday.

2 - Fuzzy's salad...with chips and queso... on Friday

3 - Enough shower food - oh how I love shower food - to celebrate the birth of 10 babies, 6 brides and an engagement or 2 - quiche, cheese, chips with dip, cake, mimosa(s), candy, quiche, quiche, quiche

4 - Game day food - wings (baked but still wings) with carrots and hummus (those were to shake off the guilt)

5 - Today - a plate of Filipino food - rice, chicken and a vege omelet - but the plate was the size of a hub cap

I love food.

Too much...

Body Back #4

For her..

For her...

For her...

For Iz...

That's what I kept on thinking to myself during Thursday's workout for BB.

It was one of those mornings. I had a big event for my awesome cake ball company - Zen Baking Company - and I was stressed.

And Iz hadn't been feeling well the past couple of days and woke up around 3:30 AM and wanted to be held.

So, my day on Thursday started super early....at 3:30AM.

Not what I was hoping for but kids don't understand calendars..

Thank God for the hubs who took a half day from work to help me out that morning.

But it took everything in me to not skip BB. I even wrote out a text for Jodie and was about to send it - it had the whole sob story of having to work late the night before, Iz getting up early, me have a full day of work and then the event that night - and I was about to send it...

Then I deleted it.

packed up my sh!t and headed out the door and was dreading class.

I was emotional, physically and mentally exhausted, and the last thing I wanted to do was to work out - never mind the fact we were working out outside - in Texas - in the heat.

But, I put on my fake smile and told myself this hour was for me. Screw it...I wanted to sit around do nothing for myself NOT sweat my a$$ off.

The Jodie busted out the big guns.

She said at the beginning of class, "Today's class is dedicated to your kids. Because I know as mom's things we may not do for ourselves, we will do for our kids. So think about that as you work out."

She probably didn't see me bite my lip to hold back my tears. Because I was so stressed and anxious at that point because of work, I knew that thinking about doing this for Iz was the only way I would get through the work out. The hard, grueling work out.

But I did.

I ran - I would see Iz's smiling face.

I did arm work outs - I would see me holding her.

I did lunges - I would see me chasing her and hearing her laugh.

My body that day - was for her. For the memories I have, the memories I'll make, and the moments that play like a movie in my mind.

Me - getting stronger for her - because today it wasn't for me - I needed to give this workout to something - someone - I loved more than me - and today - it was for Iz.

And I finished the work out. It felt great and I felt better.

For Iz..

Body Back #3

We had another session yesterday of BB.

It was weigh in day. And to all my blog peeps, I was excited about weigh in day.

"My name is Czarina and I am an weigh-in-aholic."

Everyone say, "Hello Czarina!"

Since I started BB, the hubs decided to hide my scale. I would weigh myself everyday. Sometimes twice a day.

It's a compulsion. And it's ridiculous.

But the hubs knew I would go crazy if I didn't see the "numbers" (feels like the allusive "numbers from 'Lost') go down on the scale or totally cheat and eat crap and skip workouts if I saw that I was losing weight.

I know - I'm crazy.

After growing up overweight - 170 lbs and 5 ft tall until the 7th grade, and after being teased and made fun of, I've developed some scars (and stretch marks) from those days.

Kids are mean.

But boys are great....that's why I lost weight. For a boy called Paul that I desperately was in "like" with and I really wanted him to be "in like" with me back.

But now, I'm getting into shape for me - me first. And for Iz. And for Craig. And my family. And my friends. So that I'm here for many more sunrises.

The other girls in BB were weighing in and I was baffled that they kept their clothes on. Since the scale is in a public area, I had to make the difficult decision to keep my clothes on. But, I did take off my tank. Because we all know that clothes can add about 15 lbs.... (I told you - I'm crazy).

I peed - because water weight counts, took a deep breath, and got on the scale.

I moved the weights to the number I was at last week and saw that it was too much.

I moved it down 1 number...and the scale didn't move...then one more number..and the scale equalized!

Wow - 2 lbs!

And I ate everything I wanted the past week. I worked out like normal - nothing unusual - the week before.

It was working.

We walked into class and Jodie (aka Drill Master Sargent) made the comment that we shouldn't be focusing so much on the numbers. That we should use it only as a guide and not our goal to track our progress. It's still about being healthy and seeing change - whether it's inches or strength or endurance - or confidence in ourselves.

Our work out was bad for my digestion....because it was so hard I almost puked...more than once. We worked with a glorified verions of a Pogo ball called a "Bosu," used bands, weights, ran stairs, did wall sits, did planks...it was never ending...but it did end.

As I sit here and type, my entire body is aching. I had to sit in the tub after a 10 hour work day (I went straight from BB to work and was on my feet from 11am - 9pm) for 30 minutes to get convince my muscles that I still loved them and what I wasn't doing wasn't torture.

"Dear tricep, glute and back muscles....I am truly sorry...but you'll thank me later..."

I have to admit. As a compulsive weigher and president of "Weigh - in-aholics Anonymous" - I'm more excited about seeing change in my body and my attitude about myself.

I want to be healthy, make better choices, just be the best version of me I know is possible.

But dang...getting there hurts like a son of witch.

Body Back - session #2

BB is not just about the 8 week, 16 work out sessions (from hell...)...but it's everyday -for the next 8 weeks...and hopefully the rest of my life.

I think it's about making good choices.

Like - not eating the whole cake ball and only taking a bite.

Or eating one fig newton instead of the whole bag.

And about using my mind.

Like making thoughtful choices when it comes to eating.

Or using my creativity to rationalize that the Lay's Baked Potato chips have a mother...and not just a mother...but parent's (see below)...so it's ok to eat them.


Seriously, though, it's been a tough couple of days - mentally and physically.

On Wednesday, I decided to do one of the 20 minute videos that are part of the BB session. I popped in the DVD and got ready to "work out." Ha. Yeah right. Twenty minutes - come on ladies - I wasn't even going to break a sweat.

W.h.a.t.e.v.e.r.

I found myself panting and sweat dribbling down my back after about 10 minutes into the thing.

I caught my reflection in the picture on the wall. Here's what I looked like:
Oops. Guess I was wrong.

After 20 minutes - I decided to take a 1 minute breather and do an ab video. Because, it is my life long dream to have abs like "The Situation" but more feminine.

I was already sore from Tuesday's 15 minute assessment. So I knew I was in trouble for the actual group workout on Thursday.

I walked into the gym ready for an hour of butt kicking. I have sick dreams of getting my yelled at "Biggest Loser" style. I am kind of a lazy bumpkin, so sometimes I need someone up in my grill yelling at me to keep going.

I was pleasantly surprised at myself. I didn't need the yelling. There was enough motivation as I saw my reflection and saw the problem spots in my body.

It also helped when I heard Jodie say something to us that stayed with me all through class.

"Think of how long you were in labor? You can do this for the next 30 minutes."

I was in labor and pushed for over 8 hours.

I could DO this. Sweat, grunt, push myself for 45 minutes.

So I did. I worked my tail off.

I might have teared up at the 2nd to last station but blew it off as sweat dripping in my eyes.

I was in pain but knew I could push past it.

And I did.

And today. I'm paying for it.

I hurt everywhere.

I went to work out this morning at SS and I thought my legs and arms were jello. But I finished the work out...even if I skipped the abs and just chatted.

I'm not gonna lie. I have a tendency to go full steam ahead when I start something new. I am doing it now with BB - eating well, working out to my limit. So I'm really worried I may taper off and slack the further along we get.

My body changed dramatically over the the 40 weeks I carried Iz. I have to keep that thought in my head as I work to get my Body Back...and hopefully see dramatic results in the next 8 weeks ahead.

God speed.

Get it, girl

get it!

Get that BODY BACK!

Today I started an 8 week program called "Body Back" - designed by the creators of Stroller Strides.

It's short for "Mama Get your Body Back."

And it's for mom's like me who've lost some part of who they were.

The main focus is to get your body back into shape after the ringer it was put through while carrying the kid.

But, it also forces me to find the part of my life that I've neglected for some time now...and that part of my life - is me.

I pay such close attention to what Iz eats, activities for her, getting enough rest and sleep.

I try to give my all at being wife.

But, I sorely lack giving me the same amount of attention and care.

So, I decided to do "Body Back." Of course I'm hoping for some kick as$ abs and less of tricep jiggle...but I'm really hoping to get back some of the strength (inner and physical) that I've lost along this journey of motherhood.

It's going to be tough. They expect me to eat well. Like good stuff. I was told that if "whatever you're eating doesn't have a mother or didn't come directly from the earth, probably not a good idea to eat it."

Meaning..try to cut out processed food and eat natural stuff. I desperately tried picturing an "Oreo" Plantation and really dug deep in the recesses of my brain to find the "mother" of the Nutella jar I love so much. But, alas, even my jacked up mind couldn't do it.

I'm not ashamed to say that I love Spam. The salty, greatness of the mystery conglomerate is one that was a part of my childhood and I still love today.

I love all things that crunch. Chips, popcorn, Nestle Crunch Bars, pretzels dipped in Nutella.

I love to sit around and watch documentaries on great love stories and geographical documentaries - such as "The Bachelor Pad" and "The Real Housewives of Wherever, USA."

I love being lazy and doing a whole lot of nothing when I get the chance to do it.

But, I've felt a bit "eh" as of late and needed a jolt in the work out department. My weight isn't the issue it's more of the fact that I have a lot more jiggle every time I wiggle. I also kind of need to refocus my mind on putting myself as a priority - even if it's for only 8 weeks.

So, today is the day that I am reclaiming a bit of me and getting my "Body Back."

If I get the courage, I'll post my "before" picture. But, I'm going to try and write after every session about how I ate, how the work out went, and how it's going.
I know some of you don't give a flying flip about this, but it holds me accountable - even it's to an audience on interwebz that may only stumble upon my humble blog.

Today we did the fitness assessment and I did ok. I am WEAK in the upper body department and did pretty well in the squats, jump rope and plank stations.

I weigh 3 lbs more than I thought -woot, woot! Just means more dramatic results :-)

I'm a rectangle and have no curves. My bust, waist and hips are pretty much the same distance around. Not too sexy...but I'm working on changing that.

So, blog friends, I'm excited to take you on this journey as I grunt, sweat, and eat (good stuff of course) to getting my "Body Back!"

Everyone's getting younger

Surely that's it.

Because there's no WAY I'm getting older.

The whole family packed up the truck and headed to West Texas to experience the bright lights and big city of Lubbock, TX to watch my beloved Texas Tech Red Raiders in their first football-ball game of the season.

I prayed to the road trip gods for a safe trip...and drama free trip...since it would be Iz's first car ride that lasted longer than an hour.

She did marvelous.

With the help of tons of snacks, books, and a comfy car seat - we made it to Lubbock with minimal tears (her and me) and arrived safely.

We stayed with my sister and her family and she banished us - erm - had us stay in their basement. Now - their basement is nicer than my house. Their "basement" is about 1000 sq/ft of lush carpeting, air hockey table in their game room, an office which they kept locked (....I'm kinda nosy) and a home theater.

We put Iz's pack n play in the theater and Craig and I set up camp in the game room.
Iz has had the luxury of sleeping in her own crib for almost every nap and every bedtime. So, to put her in the pack and play and have her sleep was going to be a challenge.

But, she slept from about 9pm to 5am...so I can't complain (but I really, really want to).

And of course, since we had a big day ahead of us, she decided that a nap was not on her agenda.

So, we get ready to go to Red Raider land. Donned in our red and black, Guns up, and voices ready to sing the Fight Song...I prayed to the football-ball game gods for a drama free...well kid drama...free first football-ball game.

I must have used all up my prayers on the road trip and the night's sleep because Iz was in rare form.

She did well the 1st half but midway through the 2nd quarter the tantrums started. And having a fantastic husband, he let me stay and watch the 2nd quarter and he took her out of the seats to try and appease the little gremlin.

I felt bad and went up to relieve him.

We tagged team and I was up. As I tried to entertain her with food, songs, Iphone apps...anything....I got to people watch.

And I realized that everyone in college looks young.

Like really young....

Like Bieber fever young.

The girls were way to dressed up. Too much makeup, too little clothes...reeking of alcohol and perfume.

The boys were dressed down way too much...trying too hard to act like they weren't trying so hard with floppy messed up hair-dids, wrinkled T-shirts, and ratty baseball caps.

Surely these college kids weren't all prodigies...because I was sure they all had to be between the ages of 14-16. There's no way they were in their late teens and early 20s.

Or maybe I'm just old.

Maybe I was just a little jealous that the biggest worry on their mind was what fraternity mixer to hit up or if their buzz was going to go away before the half-time.

Maybe I was a little ticked because the girls had nicer purses and fancier jewelry than this 30 year old.

Maybe I was a bit envious as they talked about their plans for the night and how they were going to meet up at 10:30. Yes...10:30 PM...when I'm normally home by that time (or an hour before....)

As I watched my 14 month old fight her tired body and watched as her melt down became a catastrophic nightmare of enormous proportions....full on throwing her self down in the middle of the crowds...poor people just trying to mustard up their hot dog and they get to witness an absolute parenting fail...
I couldn't help but think..."wow...this is my life. I'm old with THAT child in public."

I got looks from the girls and guys...Iz did her public service and I bet my life those college kids who witnessed her melt down will be choosing to use "protection..." or abstain completely.

But, I also got looks from my peers. The other mothers - about my age - in that weird place between wanting to be grown up to be a mom but still young enough to want to hit keggers - they gave me sympathetic nods and smiles as their little ones were running around, making messes, and crying.

I got nostalgic thinking about the college days and really do miss those times. The late nights, the crying after I'd had too much to drink, the throwing up....

Then I realized...I still have some of those nights...the late ones...with the crying...and sometimes throw up.

So, I picked up my little hell raiser who was now thrashing and doing her best impersonation of "The Exorcist" and did another version of the "walk of shame." But this time to the car with the crying thing...

Then she stopped and fell asleep on her Daddy's shoulder and her little chubby face -tear stained and all - was the picture of perfection.

And I couldn't help but get nostalgic about my life today.

It's a good one.