Love Your Body Day?

According to the NOW Foundation (The National Organization for Women…really?  I didn’t know we had our own nation wide organization) yesterday was Love Your Body Day.  Hmmm…that’s funny, I missed it.  It’s kind of ironic, actually, since I have been pondering my relationship with my body just recently, and whether or not I do actually love it.  I’ve gone back and forth with it, but I’m still not sure.

I had a crisis a number of months back when I realized just how skinny I had gotten (from a bigger than 10 to a smaller than 4 in about 6 months).  It was more from stress than anything else.  I had just started working out and got my first glimpses of myself in those 360-floor-to-ceiling gym mirrors.  After a couple months getting up at 430am and going to the gym to lift with Mr. W, I began to get used to the skinny girl in the mirrors, and I noticed a few things about her:  She was growing muscles!  She was getting stronger!  She had energy!  She was feeling better!  It was great!  But, alas, I say was, because I haven’t been to the gym in over 2 months.  With Mr. W leaving, we kind of skipped over our mornings in lieu of spending more awake time together at night, and with his traveling up until he did leave, he wasn’t home much to go to the gym with anyway.  I know, I know, it’s no excuse.  I could still drag my ass out of bed and go, but seriously, I need a partner, a spotter, a cheerleader.

After 2 months, I feel like crap.  I’ve been semi-sick for about 1 1/2 months out of the 2.  My metabolism has slowed back to a crawl.  My clothes are becoming more and more snug.  I’m tired all the time.  I’m back in the vicious circle of insomnia.  And I just generally feel like crap.  Not to mention the little muscle tone I had aquired and was oh-so proud of has disappeared.  So just when I was beginning to love my body again after so many years of hard times and a rocky relationship, we are back to square one.  *ugh* 

The plan is (here I go with a plan, a goal, a disappointment waiting to happen) to pull myself out of this physical funk I am in and do some sort of exercising activity every day for the next two weeks (while the babes are gone).  Be it running or going to the gym or yoga or working out at home or just simply walking, I AM GOING TO DO SOMETHING!  Really, I am.  NO REEAALLY!  I want to love my body.  I really do.  I don’t want to be super skinny.  I don’t want six-pack abs.  I don’t want bigger boobs.  (Ok, I do want bigger boobs, but I was learning to like myself in spite of their laking) I just want a little muscle tone.  I want to have clear skin.  I want to fit in the clothes I have so I don’t have to buy more of the staples and can concentrate on things like shoes and accessories.  I want to feel good.  I want to sleep.  I want to be healthy. 

Dear Body,

If you can give me all the things I’ve listed above, I will love you always.  I promise not to abuse you.  I promise not to neglect you.  I promise not to feed you endless amounts of junk, although the occasional treat would definitely be deserved.  I will put all our problems and hang-ups behind us.  I will love you.

Please??

–me

And a plea to all of you out there reading this:  BUG ME!!  NAG ME!!  Especially those of you who know me outside the blogosphere.  I need a little prodding to get me going, and while I may be whiny at first, I will love you for it!

My 100th post…

So this is my 100th post. I understand for you veteran bloggers, # 100 is small peanuts, but for me…it’s big. 6 months and 100 posts means I may actually have found a niche somewhere, I may actually stick with this, this thing that seems to be such a valuable outlet for me emotionally, creatively, and many other words ending with -ly, I’m sure. So after posting my last post and noticing that it was in fact # 99, I began pondering what in the world I would write about in my 100th post?? Obviously, I haven’t figured that out yet since it took me 2 days to get back at the keyboard (despite my regular, bordering on obsessive checking of my dashboard) and my now apparent rambling. Hmmm…

Do I write about the babies? How the girl is doing so much better with actually trying to make it to the potty, however, has also taken to dumping the contents of her panties on the floor in the bathroom when she doesn’t! Ewww! Will my life forever revolve around handling poop?? Or possibly about how the boy has decided he has the right, as the older brother, to take part in the disciplining of his sister. He mimics any lessons, scolding, or yellings that go on when they are directed at her, and in fact, this very morning I caught him spanking her for not listening to him while he was trying to help her with her shoes. Now, I realize this is probably a normal thing for a spanking household, but it has been a while since I spanked her (even longer for him) and even then, it was a moment of weakness on a particularly tough night. He spent the morning sulking in time-out as consequence…is that fair?

Or perhaps I could write about his Wonderfulness himself, Mr. W?? How two weeks ago he asked me to move in with him when my lease is up in October. How he had been thinking about it for weeks before that and had even discussed it with his first wife, mother of his two children, and she was supportive of the idea. How I accepted, after about a week of intense deliberation with myself about the pros (Mr. W, bigger house, kids have own rooms, obviously financial, Mr. W) and cons (kids dealing with change, again, Mr. W having to deal with the kids on a daily, hourly, minute-ly basis), and am now very excited in all the planning for the big move and making his house our home. I do have creeping bad thoughts every now and again. Nothing about whether or not we will be ok, despite our track record…described here, here, and here, I actually have no worry about that (er…isn’t that usually when poop hits the fan…kidding, Mr. W!) ..but, mostly about my kids. I worry about how he is going to take to having two small children thrown into his world so abruptly and constantly. I worry about how they are going to take it too, although not as much since they adore him. I worry about their dads more than anything. Not so much the STBX. He could care less at this point. He makes that quite clear. He already said he wants to meet Mr. W after the divorce is final (16 days and counting!!) but only because he is obviously a part of the girl’s life. Normal dad stuff…I get it. But then there is Ex-#1. He will find any excuse to drag me into court and try to paint me in a bad light. BUT, Mr. W’s house is a 3 bedroom, so the kids will have their own rooms…something that Ex-#1 has been hemming and hawing about for awhile now. Mr. W is a GREAT guy, so there are no legs to stand on in trying to say anything bad about him. And, oh yeah, I’m not his wife anymore…haven’t been for 5 years now…so he can suck it if he thinks he has any right to regulate my life and choices therein! Hrmph! Nuff said! But I am looking forward to living with Mr. W. He’s sweet and considerate and caring. He’s neat, can cook, and is great with my kids. He has good design taste (you know, paint and stuff) and he’s very accommodating and open for suggestions on colors, layout, furniture keeping/selling/placement. And best part yet…HE’S LETTING ME DECORATE FROM IKEA!! Have I mentioned my LOVE for Ikea?? Just in case I haven’t…I LOVE IKEA!! Ok, I’ll stop.

I could write about the 5-freakin-MILE RUN that Mr. W convinced me to sign up for…even though I’ve only run a total of 2 miles since our last 5K in what…mid-June? (I have not yet reached running goddess status…I’m not even at lowly running-handmaiden or even a running-mortal-peasant! (Ok, maybe I took that analogy a little far…) but seriously! How can I possibly run 5-freakin-MILES next month?? Ah well, what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, and I seriously doubt I will actually die from running 5-freakin-MILES, although I will probably be in a fair amount of pain….

I could write about work…but nah…too boring. Same old shit, same old co-workers/stupid people, same every day.

And what else is there in my life? Not much…but it’s kind of nice that way. Not much excitement usually coincides with not much stress, and that is just fine with me!

Weekend review…albeit a backwards one (I miss my babies!!)

I have a migraine, I didn’t sleep well last night, and my allergies are kicking my butt.  Soon the soreness from this morning’s trip to the gym (chest day, yea!) and two mile run will kick in and I will be totallyuseless.  Oh, and my homework is two days late.  Hmmm…

I’m not sure why I couldn’t sleep last night.  I’ve been sleeping really well lately, but last night when the lights finally went out and I curled up next to Mr. W all warm and cozy-like, I suddenly felt like I had just downed a cup of very strong coffee.  (Oh yeah, that’s that insomnia thing…I’d almost forgot…)  I tried to creep out of bed for a cigarette and he woke, thinking something was wrong.  (That was the first time we didn’t go to bed/sleep together.)  I had to reassure him, several times, that nothing was wrong and headed downstairs with my book for some Tazo Calm tea.  Too late for any of my little white friends to help me sleep if I actually wanted to get out of bed in the morning…430am comes early, even more so when you take sleep-aids at 11pm.  45 minutes later I was back in bed and managed to fall asleep, but it was not a restful sleep.  No bad dreams (thank goodness) but just not restful.

Honestly, I think I really just miss my kids.  I picked up the girl yesterday late morning and had some bonding time with her: shoe shopping (side note:  we walked into Payless Shoes and she stopped, gasped, and exclaimed “Look at all the shoes!!”  So very cute!), pj shopping, and although we had planned a movie, we ended up with a nap instead.  A great nap.  I laid down with her planning just to get her to sleep and sneak away to work on some homework, and she promptly crawled on my stomach, head on my chest, and then we both passed out.  It was wonderful I must say.  We haven’t slept like that in a really long time and I hated that it had to end when it was time to take her back to her dad.  She wasn’t too thrilled either.  She cried all the way to our meeting place, sobbed when I put her in his car, and needed, needed several tight hugs before the tears stopped streaming and she agreed to go with him with the promise that I would pick her up again soon.  The whole thing was the epitome of bitter sweet. 

I did get to see the boy this weekend too.  Another visit to the counselor with him and ex #1.  Another wasted 3 hours on the road, each way, plus 2 hours with her, plus $75, plus gas and tolls.  *sigh*  A means to an end, I hope.  One bright note; she talked to the boy’s sitter about the discrepancies in the stories from ex-1 and I and is finally beginning to catch on to his trend of lying.  When confronted about the apparent “miscommunication,” (read: bold faced lie, you bastard.  Do you really think I wouldn’t find out??) he had no answer for her, and turned about 3 shades of red before trying to pin me in some other crock of bull…to which I had an answer at every turn!  Now I know I’m not supposed to revel in others’ anguish, nor am I supposed to take delight in others’ shortcomings and pain –however– I walked out of that appointment with a huge smile on my face.  He’s being discovered as the liar he is. *check*  He didn’t stump me with any of his conniving sneakiness. *check* The boy confirmed that I in fact do not spank him anymore. (Ex-1 apparently spoke to the counselor about this at length prior to our appointment, because of his “extreme concern with the situation,” only to be shot down by his own son in front of her) *check, check* And just before leaving, the boy again declared his desire to come home with me rather than return with his dad.  *check*  (more of that bitter sweetness).

But I do miss them.  I miss the hugs and the kisses and the little exclamations and squeals of delight over the littlest things.  I even miss the fighting and yelling because when it comes down to it, they are still with me.  It’s been a really long road, especially with the boy, but (I’m almost afraid to say it)I’m beginning to see a faint glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.  (Either that or that bastard ex husband of mine has a flashlight down there just to f*** with me!)

..well, this post was totally backwards, but, hey, what do you expect on 4 broken hours of sleep? 

Day one…oh yeah, and cavemen suck

Day one of my attempt at attaining the independence I always thought I had and already I think I’m doing it wrong.  Mr. W and I work together, as I’ve mentioned before, and while trying to just be at work, rather than be at work with him, I feel like I’m coming off strange, maybe even bitchy.  Of course I can’t ask if that’s the case, because then I am being strange.  It’s one thing to realize you are being bitchy when you actually are bitchy (usually doesn’t happen), but to realize that you might be percieved as bitchy when that is the total opposite of your intent is a little discerning.  Are those my only two options: bitchy or needy?  Neither of which I actually am, of course!  But seriously, I don’t feel  like I fit in either category, but I’m pretty sure I am percieved  as one or the other, or both depending on the circumstances.  I guess a subset to my goal will have to be figuring out how to act like a normal f—ing human being.  (Sorry…a slip.  I just got filled in on one of the box-dwelling cavemen I work with.)

My plans for today were as follows (I should have known there is no point making plans in my world):  I got some much needed overtime work, which I was working with my friend Y, so all good there.  After, I planned to go home in my good mood from an hour or so of laughter and merriment to finish up what I left in my bedroom, and possibly the kids room; left purposefully so I would have something to do this evening other than want to see a certain someone, or anyone for that matter.  (Originally I had planned to pick up the girl for the evening, but as my sitter is out of town, I would have to drop her back off at 5ish in the morning…not good for anyone involved or within a 20 mile radius of me, her, or my STBX).  Of course, first thing this morning, my overtime got cancelled.  No problem, more time for me, right.  Then I got another project going late, so yea!  Then I found out it was with the caveman I mentioned above, not so yea, but still alright…until…I find out he has put up a strong protest about me working with him.   Grrrrr…

At work, there are “projects” of all shapes, sizes, and complexities.  There are three more senior people here, at least more senior than me, who are designated as “in training” on these sorts of projects.  I take what I can get for something to do, learning more about my job, overtime, whatever.  It’s not usually much, but it’s better than nothing.  So the caveman threw a fit because I am not one of those designated people for training, although the “project” this afternoon is a “no-brainer” easy thing that all the designated people have trained on, mastered, and worked alone.  So what the hell is the big deal if someone else gets a little knowledge and experience on the side?  And why the hell does it always seem to be me he bitches about getting work/overtime?  He’s working, he’s “training” if that’s what he wants to call it, he’s getting overtime.  WTF??  He even threatened to go to management if it happens again…WTF!!?? 

So now I get to spend four precious hours in a little dark room with the caveman, while he thinks I don’t know about what was said, and while he undoubtedly does everything,  teaching me nothing along the way.  Great.  There goes my mood and with it my productiveness after work.  So much for my plans.

Tomorrow is a new day.  The plan (he, he): It’s a no-gym day, so I plan  to keep my 430am wake up and head out for a run before work.  I plan to get those endorphines going enough to last me through my work day, and I plan to be percieved as a normal human being with normal amounts of sociability and quiet.  Nothing too complicated…let’s see if I can pull it off.

 

On a side note…this alone stuff is especially sucky when you know your birthday is fast approaching and you are going to visit a friend out of town for the last weekend (for awhile anyway) that you will have an opportunity to be a grown up with someone you like to be grown up with.  Yes, I realize it is just a day…and I for one don’t have any special intentions or expectations of celebration.  However…I hadn’t really intended to not-celebrate alone either.      *small pout*

If it’s not one thing, it’s another

Well, I successfully completed my first 5K(yes I said first, as in there will be more to follow) and I’m still alive.  Not only that, but I actually ran most of it and finished in 38+ minutes…only 5 minutes behind Mr. W.  (yea me!)  They said, they being my friends, that 38 minutes is good, but the visions of people pushing strollers past me at a pretty even pace makes me think otherwise.  Regardless, I have good friends for lying to me.    I felt really good after the run, and for the rest of the day.  Yesterday, however, the soreness kicked in, mostly in the torso area.  Who knew you work your abs and back while running??  Today my left foot still hurts from my ill-fitting shoes, and my right hip is being a little tricky, increasing my quotient of accident-prone-ness substantially, but all in all I feel good considering…

…considering I haven’t slept since LAST Sunday night.  (yea insomnia)←insert dripping sarcasm here.

I’m not sure what is going on.  I’ve been having a hard time just getting to sleep, but on top of that, I can’t stay asleep.  I thought it might have been a side effect from the nicotine patches, but since I fell off that wagon Thursday, I’m not sure what the deal is now.  My life has been fairly quiet and drama free as of late.  No kid stuff, no ex-men stuff, no financial stuff, no work stuff, no Mr. W stuff.  What gives?  I worked out Thursday, plus ran for 15minutes, plus went out drinking (lightly) that evening.  I did a 5K on Saturday, for *poop’s* sake!  Something is in my head, tormenting my sleep-makers to the point of striking, but I just can’t figure out what it is!

I’ve suffered from insomnia for most of my life, in spurts.  It used to be for (theoretically) no reason when I was younger, but a deep delve into my childhood psyche will probably tell you otherwise and point out the terrible marital condition of my parents when they were together, and the alcoholic spurts and lack of motherly presence my mom gave me once they split up.  I went through another bout of insomnia after my abortion, but I’m sure we can all figure that one out.  Another, for seemingly no reason while I was still a youngster in the military.  Of course the great military docs suggested clearing my room of all distractions, read: TV, computer, desk, etc.  I tried to calmly explain that I resided in a dorm room the size of a shoe box, so that wasn’t really an option, but like I said military doctors.  I discovered Valerian root and Tylenol PM shortly thereafter.  I didn’t sleep during either of my marriages, nor during either of my pregnancies, again, no need to explain.  But since getting out of those negative relationships and into a good place in my life I haven’t had problems like this, til now. 

Hmmm…something to ponder tonight as I lay there, staring at the ceiling not sleeping.