Fitness Reboot

In January of 2007 I decided I needed to be a better example for my kids as far as exercise went, and started walking at the mall every morning with Ellie (she was in her stroller, of course!). In March of that year I joined the Wellness Center. Over the next year and a half, I got more and more into it - did the LiveFit class, where I experienced my first personal training lessons, kept the trainer after the group was done, did the Wellness Center Biggest Loser challenge and came in 3rd (from lots of exercise, didn't really lose weight)... and then, slowly, I've lost it.

The personal trainer with whom I was working and whom I loved dearly left to take another job. Our summer schedule last year made it harder to get to the gym. This year Eleanor's preschool schedule threw me for a loop. I stopped training with my second trainer (whom I liked) for mostly financial reasons, but also because I could tell I wasn't as into it.

So, slowly, embarrassingly, all that progress has been lost. And the shame of that, coupled with the fact that, in truth, as the preschool teacher said about my daughter, I, too, am "not prone to movement," has kept me from doing much about it. I'd much prefer to sit on my butt and talk for hours than move. Even though I enjoy walking and even weight lifting and yoga and aerobics classes, the inertia (and comfort in motionlessness) that precedes them seems to overpower that. It's frustrating and embarrassing and disappointing to realize I'm pretty much back to the same flabby fitness level I was at before I began it all 3 years ago.

How do I dig myself out of this hole and get the oompfh back? I know, I know - as Nike says, "Just Do It!" And that's what I need to do - commit to it and just do it. It takes 21 days to form a new habit, so I need to commit for that long.

The good news is, the Wellness Center is hosting their Stepping Out Challenge next week - the goal is to get 10,000 steps in every day for 7 days. Ironically, that was my original fitness goal before I even added in training and weights and classes and elliptical machines. I just wanted to move more, and thought the 10,000 steps thing was a good idea. Brett and I are both participating in the Challenge, and I want it to be the kick in the butt I need to get back to the 10,000 step mantra. If I end up adding in the other stuff and get extra fit again, great! If I don't, O.K. - let GO of the guilt about it, Anne! But do move. Move often. Get to those 10,000 steps. It's for my health, but it's also for my kids.

So wish me luck! I'll post my total steps once the challenge is done. And watch out for my husband around town - he won this thing last time and is determined to win it again, so he'll be walking pretty much everywhere.

Can You Hear Me Now?

Some time ago my son Jefferson was downstairs with his friend Sammy, playing Wii - which is quite typical on a weekend around here. What amused me was the following conversation:

Sammy: "Hey Jeff, do you want a cellphone?"
Jeff: *grunts as he focuses on game*
Sammy: "Jeff, don't you wanna cellphone? 'Cause I do, it would be cool!"
Jeff: *grunt*
Sammy: "I want a Blackberry. What kind of phone do you want?"
Jeff: "I want a Blueberry."

Sammy just said "There's no such thing as a Blueberry." Meanwhile, I was upstairs cracking up.

Oh Jeff... phone for you... it's your muffins calling!

A Prisoner In His Own House...

We have two cats. As one of them is particularly vociferous, we have taken to shutting them down in the basement at night (they're happy down there - it's finished, and it's where their food and litter are) so that we can all get some sleep.

I have one husband. He is a night owl. He usually does not go to bed until midnight or later, and spends most of the evenings hours in the basement on his computer. 

I have one son. Evidently he heard the loud cat upstairs last night at some point; she must have woken him up. Because he got up, found her, put her down in the basement, and locked the basement door, as we also always do every night. 

Guess what? Yes, you're right - my son accidentally locked his dad down in the basement. Bwah ha ha! Apparently when Brett tried to come up to go to bed, he couldn't. Imagine my surprise when we opened the door for the cats this morning and who should come trudging up the stairs, too, but a very tired, somewhat aggravated-looking husband. He did sleep in the guest bedroom, so it's not like he was in terrible discomfort, but still...

Once I heard what happened, I couldn't help but laugh. Yes, I felt sorry for him - but it was so darn funny!

That'll teach him to stay up late. And not carry his keys in his pocket. 

Significantly Insignificant

Every once in a while my mind wanders down this odd path, the one where I try to really comprehend how many people there are, the one where it boggles my mind to realize there are all sorts of people all over the world doing things RIGHT NOW, even as I'm sitting in my living room typing on my laptop. There are people I know personally who are doing stuff, like the neighbors next door (whom I can hear and see, so I know what they're up to), like my mom (who I know is currently in Staunton and probably in her store), my sister (who's probably teaching in Kansas City), my husband (who I think is at his office)... These are people I know and love, who are very important to me - and yet really most of the time I have no clue what they're doing, feeling, thinking, at any given moment... And there are, of course, millions, or, actually, billions of people out there right now living their own lives and doing stuff I'll never know about and never experience... the people living in South Central LA, the people living in the Ukraine, the people living in South Africa... I don't know them. I don't know what their lives are like. And most likely never will. And yet they all exist. Just like Robert Pattinson will never know anything about me (sad, but true) - and yet right now he's out there doing something. And so am I.

Sometimes it amazes me that anyone can ever get along with anyone else; after all, our worlds, our realities are shaped by our experiences, our locations, our abilities, our expectations. What my life as a middle-aged, middle class white woman in non-urban Virginia is like is vastly different than what life is like for a young gang member in New York. At least I presume it is. But it's also different from my friends' lives, even if they are also by and large middle-aged middle class white women living in non-urban Virginia.  And then when I think not only of all the people who are alive and living right now, but of all the people who have come before us (not to mention those still to come), the difference in their lives versus ours today - well, my brain starts to go fuzzy. It's just mind boggling to me, the reality of how many people there are.

Of course with differences, there are similarities, too, I guess. Most of us have feelings in common - most of us can relate to feeling lonely, angry, in love, tired, etc... Is that what binds us? Common feelings, if not common beliefs? Because certainly many of my close friends have beliefs that differ from mine on any number of topics, but I still feel drawn to them. Some of us have similar experiences - being married, having children, etc. That helps bind us to each other, as well. I can relate to experiences people wrote about 200 years ago, even though the societies we each lived in would be so different from each other. I can relate to feelings people talk about, even if the rest of their lives differ greatly from mine.

I'm never quite sure where my mind will end up when it wanders down this path, just as I'm not sure where this blog post is going... I was mostly thinking the other day that in the grand scheme of things, I truly *am* insignificant. I don't mean that in a bad way; I merely mean that my life is one of BILLIONS going on right now, and if you were to look down on all the people from space (or maybe Google Maps), well, I'd pretty much blend in with everyone else. Maybe that's a good reminder for me when my own stuff looms so large, when I start to obsess over Jefferson's tics or Ellie's size or whether or not my husband still likes me. I'm not saying those things aren't important, I'm saying they're not the most important things ever, and that life is much bigger than whatever I, or anyone, happens to be experiencing at that very moment. (Take note, celebrities. Oh wait, you don't know and will never know I exist. Never mind.)

Except that of course regardless of how many people we are sharing space with (on the planet or in the house), we each DO have our own unique life. There may be billions of us, but NONE of us has the same life as anyone else. And that is significant. I don't know what goes on in the minds of my husband or my kids, and they're the people to whom I am the closest. They don't know my innermost thoughts. But for whatever reason, we were given the power to think and feel and believe and experience. So I guess while I need to be reminded sometimes my stuff is not the center of the universe, it's O.K. to say it's significant to me.

There's no neat resolution to this rambling, because I don't know what point I am trying to make, if any. But this idea of how vast and huge the world is has been on my mind more and more lately, so I just wanted to scribble about it to see if I could figure out why. We each are significant and insignificant, at the same time. For me, that's worth thinking about.

Why Are People So Mean?

We are walking out of a lovely Easter service at church today, Ellie is front of me walking with her daddy and holding her Easter candy. Two tweenage girls walk by us heading the other direction, both looking at Ellie and smiling in what I thought was a kind fashion until I heard one say to the other, "She's fat!" in a snide tone of voice. The other girl burst out laughing, and the first one said, "I'm just saying..."

Luckily Ellie didn't hear them. Even if she had, I don't think at age 3 she would have known what they meant or that they were referring to her. Blessings for that. But what is the freaking point of making a comment like that, anyway? Had I been quicker to respond, I might have said something to the girls. As it was, I was just stunned and kept walking. No one else heard them except me. I'm still angry.

I'm angry for all the times I heard that growing up as a child (and never managed to come up with a response, either). I'm angry at the apparent need to tear people down that I witness daily - in children, in some adults, even, I admit, in my own head occasionally. What is the point of that? The only purpose of those words is to hurt someone else. So why say them?

To everyone out there who interacts with young girls, be kind. If you interact with young boys, be kind. If you interact with anyone at all, be kind. If you talk to yourself, be kind. Be kinder than necessary, actually, for everyone you meet is fighting some sort of battle. Some are just more visible than others.

And Ellie, if I can do one thing for you in your life, it will be to teach you you are valuable and loved, and not to let comments like that get you down. Now if only I could teach that to myself.

A Spring Day in Staunton

I took the kids to Staunton yesterday, to Pufferbellies Toys, Cranberry's Grocery and Eatery, and to Gypsy Hill Park. I was trying to do something special with them since Jefferson is on Spring Break - and of course I wanted something to make the day go faster.

See, that's my constant struggle. I love my kids, but I don't always love the day-to-day minutiae. I'm a stay-at-home mom and can't imagine it any other way, but often crave time to myself to do my own projects, or just escape. I enjoy my children but don't always like playing with them. Sometimes it sets off a huge amount of guilt; other times I feel like my job is to be parent, not to be friend, and that includes not being a 24/7 Entertainment Center.

Still, often I wonder if I push them off too much. And if I wonder, I think I probably know the answer. When I get to wondering, I usually have to take a step back and realize that yes, I have been spending too much time on the computer; yes, I have been letting them zone out on screen time too much; yes, I have been too unwilling to do this, that, or the other with them. I find it hard to find the proper balance. I don't even know what the proper balance is. I often wish this parenting thing weren't so darn hard - that I could be absolutely O.K. with my parenting style, whether it was that of absolute dictator or lackadaisical hippie. I'm not.

But when I start obsessing about this, I remind myself of something my pediatrician told me once: "The parents who worry most about their parenting are usually those who don't need to."  And the kids sure seemed to have fun yesterday. They even thanked me - without prompting.

Ah, Young Love...

... overheard a few weeks ago at Kit's house while Ellie was playing with her good friend, Jack:

Jack: "Ellie, I'm going to kiss you!"
*brief silence*
Jack: "I love you, Ellie!"
Ellie: "I wuv you, too, Jack!"

Of course if we heard that 10 years from now, it might be a problem. But I think it's so darn cute. And wanted to record it here so that I don't forget it. (Photo is from Halloween 2009 - Pirate Jack and Snow White Ellie)