Feel Good, Inc.

Now, *this* is how I remember feeling on my first couple of BFL challenges. I've got that natural high, and I have lots of energy. You wouldn't believe how much I got done this weekend. No need for caffeine.

However, this doesn't mean by 9 pm I am not ready to crash, b/c I totally am. 9 p.m.! But, I am sleeping very well these days. Better than a baby.

Also, I feel extremely positive. Life is always going to suck at times, but I find myself handling stress very well, and taking everything very lightly, esp the small stuff that annoys me, the stuff that *should* be taken lightly. When not in a healthy state of mind, I tend to blow the smallest things out of proportion. Now though, I'm feeling all sane and logical and stuff.

Just today, I had a test of the ol' temper. I went to get my flu shot. There was a long ass line. That alone did not bother me. I brought a book just in case there was such a situation. When I'm at my worst, I'd freak out (internally) and worry and fret about the long line. Today, I felt calm and just took it. Like a man. :)

But on to the better story. Long ass line, right? There's a lady behind me, b/c that's how lines work. As the line progresses, she ends up right beside me. And she walks beside me for several minutes.

Now I'm thinking, wtf is this lady doing? But I basically ignore her, although I think, "surely the heck she is not trying to cut??". She keeps looking around to the front of the line, as if she can somehow see exactly what is going on and as if this knowledge will somehow speed things along.

Next thing I know, she is next to the lady in *front* of me! Okay, so old me would have been furious and would have said something. New me, well, I did feel that little fire brew inside me, like, "it's not fair!!! This cannot happen!" But here's the thing: who fucking cares. If she needs a flu shot that fucking bad, let her cut all the way to the front. What difference does it really make to me?

However, I could not resist turning around and talking to the lady behind me about it. I calmly said pretty much what I said above, without the F bombs. Then the lady in front of me turned around and looked at me like "WTF?" regarding cutter lady beside her now. I look at her like "dunno", and I say in a normal voice: "I guess she *really* needs her flu shot", at which point cutter lady looks at me and gets back behind lady in front of me (but still cutting in front of me!).

I was annoyed, but remained calm, and decided, as I said, that this was too small of a battle to give my time, too. (this all is VERY unlike my usual, uptight, personality. Cutting was always a pet peeve of mind. I felt it a huge injustice, ha ha).

And lemme tell ya, there's a good ending to this story. Poetic justice. Before getting the shot, we had to fill out paperwork. I ended up getting my shot first. BWHAHAHAHA! So many moral lessons that could be quoted here. You get the drift. I truly believe that what comes around goes around. In my mind, I thought, "yeah baby. Take that beeyotch". But said nothing and reacted not at all. I didn't need to.

Now...we'll see if all this calmness will help my road rage. I'm really working on that, and it's 100% b/c of baby. Don't worry, I do not own a gun. But I am daily pushed by the really, really dumb drivers around here. I have to totally put my mind outside of my body and ignore all the "injustices" on the road, while at the same time paying attention to the actual vehicles around me as one needs to do when you are driving. It's a whole other dimension.

Got my workouts in today and yesterday, and eating squeaky clean. Man, I feel good.

My gosh, you work out?

Okay...I'm actually going to talk fitness. I really do work out and am interested in fitness, not just all the other crap I write about.



I'm in my fifth Body for Life challenge. It's just the first week, I tend to not like to talk about things when I first embark on them for fear of failure. Not because I think it will jinx it if I tell people, well, partly. But mostly b/c if I fail than it's like I was talking out my ass.



Since having baby, I've finished 2 challenges. The first one went pretty well. The second was sort of half-assed. I skipped workouts and ate what I wanted. It wasn't horrible eating, but far from good. Plus, I drank way too much booze.



Even the first challenge since baby was so-so b/c I was trying to figure stuff out, and I was only doing 3 sets of 12 in my weights. "Okay" results, but man, that BFL way really works for me.



In both challenges since baby, I didn't feel "it", you know? I was longing for the way I felt on my first challenge, that I Want To Do This Every Day, feeling. I'm glad to say I'm feeling it now. There are some concrete reasons for that, some of which I mention below. The point is, the feeling is there, and I'm feeling strong. Now to practice patience (on seeing results). I want to be presentable at the Arnold Expo.

I feel sooo good when I get all my water in, eat right, and exercise daily (duh - but the feeling is an amazing one). I have returned to the traditional 12, 10, 8, 6, 12, 12 lifting plan, which as I said, worked very well for me.

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The basic work out plan:

5 a.m. every day

Sunday: Rotate LBWO/UBWO
Monday: 20 minute Turbo Jam cardio
Tuesday: Rotate UBWO/LBWO
Wednesday: 20 minute Turbo Jam cardio
Thursday: Turbo Jam Body Sculpt (weight + cardio for 45 min)
Friday: 20 minute Turbo Jam cardio
Saturday: Free Day

Baby often has a different agenda, so I have created a Plan B so I am less likely to back out or screw this up:
PLAN B: 7 p.m. while hubby gives baby bath instead of 5 a.m. OR lunchtime if 20 min cardio.
Trading workout for different days depending on what events transpire that day.


It is not completely standard BFL, but I have to mix it up to keep it interesting. If the Turbo Jam stuff doesn't show good results, I will switch back to standard HIIT. I was just so bored with that. Turbo Jam does incorporate some HIIT though, but not exactly the same.

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Menu for this week:

M1 - Cream of wheat with protein powder and skim milk + a banana sometimes
M2 - Nutrition/Protein Shake
M3 - Baked potato with: low sod. chicken broth (2 tsp), lf cottage cheese, chicken breast, broccoli, & salsa
M4 - Slice of LF cheese + an apple
M5 - Dinner: either chicken noodle soup or mexipasta skillet (all efl approved, lf, low salt, ww pasta, etc.)
M6 - EFL pumpkin pie (contains protein powder)

Plus 80 oz of water a day; sometimes skim milk as a sub (at most 16-24 oz a day) but no other beverages (no soda, coffee, etc).

Alcohol rule: I love to drink. I just do. It's easier not to when I'm working out really hard. However, I like something to look forward to. I will still have my cocktail on Saturdays. Friday night, I get a glass of wine with dinner, IF I am perfect the rest of the week. Not a 100% clean plan, but it works for me. The alternative is drinking every day.

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There you go....I've written out my exercise and M1-M6 - BORING. Ha ha. It's interesting to me if I'm actually doing it.

I'm not posting any pics until after my challenge is complete, unless my team requires it. I don't like looking at my week 0 pic for 12 weeks. It does not motivate me.

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It's day 4, and I've been perfect in every sense of the word. I feel I will continue to be, unless I get hit by a Mack truck.

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On a side note: My husband I recently tried another in vitro round, which sadly, did not work. I never thought it was possible to mourn a period. It's just so sad to see it all come out.

Sorry that's gross, I know. But it does pain me, and not physically. Normally, one doesn't give a second thought to it other than it being a nuisance. Now I consider it the life force behind the lives that didn't happen - gone, drained.

I keep worrying that I really was pregnant, that they were wrong, and now I screwed up by stopping the meds. But I'm sure that's not the case. There was only a 10% chance it would work this time.

I really appreciate the blessing I do have. There are many.

Full Circle

I was starting to re-read my previous entry b/c I haven't been back here in a while. Geesh...I can't believe I had the nerve to write some of that crap. Oh well. Gotta accept who I am.

But it's funny, as I am writing something, I think it's the greatest thing ever (sometimes). I re-read it a month later, and I think, gawd, what a freaking dumb ass. It's like hearing your voice on a tape recorder; it makes you flinch a little. ( Do they still make tape recorders btw? Or cassette tapes for that matter?) Anyway, that's why I delete my blogs from time to time. Part of the reason.

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Back to the topic at hand. I had an interesting, "first". A first for a mother, something I'm thinking most moms experience. At least I hope so for the sake of my sanity (explained more at the end of this).

My dad likes to rehash old stories into the ground. What dad doesn't do that? Many of his stories involve me, being that I'm an only child. Some of them are downright humiliating, like the story of how when I was six, I lost control of my hippee flower-laden banana-seat bicycle (a hand-me-down) going down a steep hill and a curve, and totally wiped out. My dad was behind me on his bike. He laughs about it to this day. It's not funny! :)

Another story involves making me feel guilty for something I did to my dad when I was 3 or 4 years old. My grandma babysat me daily while Mom worked and Dad was in school. I was really close to this grandma, all the way until when she died when I was 16 years old. [She was only 56 (breast cancer).]

Dad came to pick me up one day, and I did not want to go with him. I started crying. I was basically a good kid, so I did not throw an all out hissy fit, I don't think. But I did cry, and I probably whined that I wanted to stay with Grandma.

Well, I hurt my dad's feelings. He clammed up, seemed mad, and went storming back to his car. Actually, I was in my grandma's room on the bed crying, so I didn't see him leave. My grandma, who by all accounts was genuinely a good person through and through, came to me and said, "I think you hurt your daddy's feelings, Karla. He just left. You better go and chase him down before he leaves." (btw, my dad at the time was all of 25 years old.)

I immediately felt bad and guilty (as a 3 year old!) , and didn't like the idea of my dad abandoning me there after all, and so I ran after my dad. I caught him in time, but he would not talk to me all the way home.

He eventually forgave me, probably that day, I don't really remember, but he brings it up all the damn time ever since then. I felt guilty and sad about it for years. It was only VERY recently after some self-discovery that I can forgive myself for this atrocity because I was ONLY THREE (OR MAYBE FOUR) YEARS OLD!!!! I KNEW NOT WHAT I DID! C'MON!

Besides, I think my dad only brings it up all the time b/c he still must need reassurance that I love him. Mind you, he doesn't bring it up in a hateful tone. It's just a "remember that one time..." story. In fact, I think *he* might feel bad for reacting to me the way he did when I was 3. HE was the adult.

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WHICH BRINGS ME FULL CIRCLE:

My 14 mo. old son is pretty attached to me, although I would not describe him as overly attached. He doesn't cling to me all the time. He is generally happy to see me. He is very lovable and likes to hug and cuddle and kiss, IF he feels like it. If he's busy playing or whatnot, he's not going to hug for very long. And that is perfectly okay.

Particularly, if he hasn't seen me for a while, he will run up to me, jump up and down intermittently on each foot (running in place sort of), and raise his arms for me to pick him up. If I were to try to leave without him in that situation, he'd be very upset. I don't want him to be too attached, and he rarely gets that crazy about me picking him up. Only the first time after not seeing me all day will he *sometimes* do that. And I must admit, it tugs at my heartstrings just a bit that he is so happy to see me.

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My husband usually picks him up from daycare. The other day, I picked him from daycare.

So I go inside to get him....and....

He doesn't want to leave with me. Not at all.

He just clings to the caregiver like I'm the devil or something. When I finally pulled him off of her, he was crying a lot in his "NO! I don't want that" way, and he was putting his arms out for her to take him back from me. He was not screaming bloody murder or anything, and once we were walking out to the car, he seemed fine. But I gotta tell ya, I was a little heartbroken.

I did not react like my dad when he was 25 (had I been 25, I may have done the same thing; as it is, I'm 37). I acted completely normal on the outside. I didn't force myself on him, other than having to carry him to my car. I mean, I didn't smother him in hugs or kisses. I simply talked to him in normal tones and pointed things out to him and sang to him as we drove. The usual as far as outside appearances. But inside, I was hurting.

It's not HIS fault. Of course not. And it's not personal. I know all this. It hurt me just the same. Or rather, I felt sad. I know it's not logical or right to feel this way, but I felt it nonetheless.

I know kids do this and their moods change daily, hourly, by the minute. I just did NOT expect it. It was so all of a sudden! He was so happy to see me just the day before!

I dwell on things...and I started to wonder later if I was a bad mom. I wondered if when I went to get him out of his crib the next morning, he would start screaming and not want me.

Of course, he didn't. And since then, things have been back to normal, although I have not had to pick him up lately. I pick him up today though, so we'll see how it goes.

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Now I know exactly how my dad felt. It's a little stab in the heart. A little betrayal. It's not the little guy's fault. But man, if your baby doesn't want you, at least the first time, it's a bit of a shock. I do feel a sort of closure with regards to that story with my dad though, and closer to my dad because of it. An "Ah! So *that's* what he meant" feeling, as happens so often to us as we grow up and re-live our parents' lives.

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You know, now a few days later, I learned something from this. And that is, I cannot place all my value on any one person, not even my darling son.

I've overcome most of my demons from the past, all my fucked up ways of thinking. One of my bad habits though was totally relying on someone to love me. If that person didn't love me, I was not a complete person. I couldn't function.

First it was my parents. And then my husband. Ah...my poor husband and the burden I put on him. No one can make someone else completely happy. That person really has to be happy with himself/herself first. It took me years to realize this. And I think I finally did/do get it with regards to my husband.

I think the demon resurfaced though with my son. Unknowingly, I think I was a little too in love with the little guy and I was putting ALL my love and self-worth into him. I knew, or thought, his love for now was unconditional. I knew I could always rely on him to love me and that I would always be a good mom. Not like a husband (sorry husband)...who argues with you and criticizes you and is emotional or emotionally unavailable from time to time (Read: they are HUMAN).

The pain I felt that day made me realize that I was wrong. I should NOT feel betrayed. I SHOULD be more logical about it. Just b/c baby is having an off day does not mean he doesn't love me. And so what...if he has days he doesn't love me...(or thinks he doesn't), it does not mean I am a bad person or a bad mom. And I am still loved. Why is it so hard for people to accept this, people that are like me? I want to say, "ME? No, I'm not really loved. Couldn't be.", but I totally am. :)

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This was every reaction to how I was feeling that day. I've written it all. I kept 95% of it inside me. It wasn't like I went berserk that day.

I did try to share with hubby. He does not understand, and was getting sort of mad at me. He kept saying pretty harshly: "That's just not LOGICAL! How do you think baby feels??? You cannot react this way!" (again, I was very calm when I told him this and not hysterical, although a bit hurt and sad). When I said all I wanted was empathy, he replied in a very, again harsh, and sarcastic tone: "Well, now you know how *I* feel all the time. How's THAT for your empathy?". [I love him, but sometimes he is not very nice. I cannot talk to him about how I am feeling sometimes, which makes me sad in a way.]

So...here I am. A new lesson in motherhood. Not a huge deal in the grand scheme of things, but definitely an interesting and very new feeling.