Monday, January 30, 2012

I'm Working it Out!

“Make the most of yourself, for that is all there is of you.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

Yeah...that's right peeps...I'm working it out!

It is now well into winter, even though it has been a strange one, weather-wise.

New Year's resolutions are either making people feel pretty good about themselves or kinda defeated and I am somewhere in the middle.

Monkey in the middle. C'est moi!

I guess that means the things I wanted to do kinda crossed each other out and I am not feeling defeated, but hardly triumphant.

But I'm working it out!

I hardly expected them to work it out. Jerk.

I now have a workout buddy.

Her name is Deb. She is my husband's best friend and my oldest son's best friend's mother and my middle son's best friend's mother and probably the mother of the boy who will become my baby's best friend. Got that?

Deb and I back in the 90's.

Because of all of the above, we have become pretty good friends too. Which is really good because if I didn't like her that would make life a lot more difficult!

So to clarify, Deb has three boys and a husband just like me. They are all of similar age. We have also both been on similar weight gain and weight loss journeys and just before we got pregnant with our little guys we were looking pretty damned hot!

And yes, it is not lost on me that perhaps our husbands - who have been besties since kindergarten - planned everything from timing to sexual positions to whatever else so that all of this would work out the way it did - what with our combined 6 boys all conveniently born very close to each other in age. They now have a complete hockey line, including a goalie.
Speaking of hockey and boys and lines...maybe we should start grocery shopping at the Loblaws at Maple Leaf Gardens? We are gonna need LOTS of food. Oh they have a gym in there?

Pretty smart of them. Especially since Deb and I had to do all the hard work and they just had a little fun in the process.

Anyhow - so looking ahead, us gals in this sea of testosterone realize that as we grow older, our boys will as well and we will eventually have some nice time on our hands and when we are not at the rink, maybe we will be able to go out once in a while and do some girl things. And we want to look good whilst doing so.

And so we are working it out!

If they could...we can!

Sorry...I went off on a tangent there. I NEVER do that!

Before our youngest were born, I had a play date with Deb and noticed she was looking frickin' good. I asked her what her secret was and she told me that she was doing the Jenny Craig thang. Admiring her ass, I decided that I needed to meet this Jenny Craig person, so I hoped on the train as well. And I started to enjoy looking at my own ass a little more.

Ummmm...yeah. How come when celebrities lose weight, their boobs stay the same size? I wish this were the case for me.

Then the pregnancies. Then the weight gain - me a little more than Deb - but she did not break her feet peeps! - and here we go again.

This time, I joined a gym and she just joined the same gym last week. Yay!

Our gym is located at my Loblaws grocery store - no, not the Maple Leaf Gardens one - and is for women and children. This means we can work out, put our babes in the on-site daycare, not have any guys looking at our asses while we do so and then still have time to have a coffee and grocery shop while our boys are in the daycare. Snappy!

I find it hard to get motivated on these dark, cold, grey, winter mornings.

Not the most motivating of scenes. Cold and snappy!

But now that I have a buddy expecting me to show up with a smile between 9 and 9:30am and hop on the elliptical, I am much more inclined to make the extra effort. And so is she.

That's me on the elliptical looking snazzy.

So yeah...I am working it out.

And I have dropped a few pounds that don't seem to be coming back.

Yay me! I'm tired.

And I am gonna keep going.

Because I know I deserve it. I know I can do it. And I know I feel better when I do.

Yes I do!

And that will work out just fine.



Friday, January 27, 2012

Crying Over You

I don't think Roy was singing about his kids when he belted out his famous tune.

He was probably singin' about a girl.

Come to think of it, I don't think k.d. was either.

k.d. Lang kinda looks like Roy. Come to think of it, she was probably singin' about a girl too. She's Canadian eh? I met her once when I was a kid. I thought her name was Katie. She's awesome.

Wrong k.d. Yuck.
But me...well...I am.

And I am crying over...well...the crying.

I know they...oh the famous "they"...whoever art thou?...say that letting your baby "cry it out" is the best way to get them to go to sleep.

I understand the whole concept of classical conditioning and Pavlov's frickin' dog.

It's simple, right? frickin' simple.

So simple, in fact, that it is driving me bananas. And might I add, nuts!

Besides the fact that bananas and nuts together makes for wonderful bathroom humour fodder or the fact that I am quite a fan of banana-nut anything, GOING bananas and nuts at the same time is rather...ummmm...bananaramanuttiful.

Wow. The jokes that could revolve around this one picture are endless. But that is for another post.

I actually prefer the whole grain varirty. This could drive know.

Ahhhhh, The Wiggles. Autralia's biggest money makers and butt shakers for kids. I have seen then twice in concert. I am hoping for a hatrick. My husband loves them even more.

And that, in case you don't have your Webster's handy, is not a good thing. (Oh frick, I feel another Martha coming on...WARNING!)

This was not a good thing either Ms. Stewart. Bad girl.

And now I am bananaramanuttifully digressing.

Bananarama. They've got it. Yeah baby...they've got it. Probably because they don't have crying babies.

I have been a mother for over 10 years.

I really think I should be better at this shit by now.

Not only that, but I studied Sociology, Phychology, Family & Child Studies and a bunch of other crap at University (including Statistics, yo, and I got an A in that which makes me officially smart in my smart opinion cause Stats is frickin' hard for us artsy-fartsy types!) so ya'd think I would, well, be a little smarter about it all.

I usually wear contacts but I just got these new glasses. Do I look smarter? I think so.

I also studied English...and I am thinking my English profs would be very impressed by how I am doing what I feel is my duty to pump up the Dictionary with new words like "bananaramanuttifully".

So what is such a smart - not smart-ass - but frickin' SMART  - mother of three doing crying over her crying baby you may ask?

Not asking again?

Yup. Too bad again. I'm gonna tell ya anywho.

OK, well, I am not really doing the answering here, I am doing the asking.

And I have no idea why!

Well, this post is just a plethora of information thus far isn't it?

You're welcome.

Now...I am going to...for a moment...try and put aside the "smart-ass" Lora and pull out the "just plain smart" Lora.

Thank you.

Hold on...this is difficult for me.

Thanks again.

OK. I think we're good.

I pride myself on being a decent Mom. I mean, I am so far from perfect it ain't funny (see, I said ain't!) and just because I mentioned "perfect" does not mean I am going to insert another picture of Martha Stewart here as I like to do because I am being smart...not a smart-ass. Frick! I told you this was difficult!

I know that babies are also smart.

Predictable photo choice, I realize.

They are also very manipulative creatures that know exactly how to get mommies to do what they want mommies to do. Like go and pick them up when they are crying. And crying. And crying.

And crying.

And crying.

And crying.

And crying.

And crying.

(See? Don't you want to pick me up just to SHUT me up now? Point made. I think I was being a smart-smart-ass there!)

Not to say that there are not two different camps on this issue.

Two camps. Two very different opinions.

Some people - both professional, parenting-guru types and parents (who are the real gurus of parenting anyways), firmly believe that leaving your child to "cry it out" is damaging. They think that it goes against a mother's natural instinct to respond to her baby.

The whole "attachement parenting" camp is all about bonding with your child. Parents who subscribe to this style of child-rearing and raising tend to breastfeed for a long time, wear their babies (as apposed to putting them in a stroller or putting them down a lot) and sometimes even have a "family bed" where the entire family sleeps together (how they end up with kids is beyond me!).

Now I am hardly and expert in this camp. I learned about it in school and I know some people who are into this. I have nothing against a lot of it as a philosophy, but it really is not for me. To each their own. Whatever works for you and your family.

But I do know this: of course leaving baby to cry goes against my natural instinct people! Why do you think I am having so much trouble!?!??

I mean, to each his-and-her own. If you don't believe in the cry-and-let-cry method of training your youngin to sleep, go nuts! Go bananas in fact! Go all the way to bananarama-bo-bama-nuttiville right along with me. You will just be running into your baby's room (which may actually be your room as well so, whatever) every five minutes and I will be over there on the couch with my ear plugs in, blasting the Enya and eating bon-bons.

I feel relaxed just looking at Enya. Ahhhhhhhh.

OK, this trying to be smart and not a smart-ass thing is not working.

And..frick!...little Drew is crying again.

I hafta go!

Oh'm gonna leave him.

I'm gonna keep writing. Stay with me. I need the support.

Where was I?

Man this is a bad post.

So anyways, I'm struggling.

I am struggling to stay sane while my little Drew-boo learns that this Mama is not gonna take it anymore. (Yes. Here comes Dee Snider as if on cue. I am so conditioned.).

Twisted Sister We're Not Gonna Take It & Other Hits Album Cover
Had to be done.

Oh man. He just will not stop.

Hold on. I'm just gonna rock him for a few minutes. Wait here. (Here's some Enya for you while you wait.) I know. I'm nice like that.

Frick! Thanks for the support peeps! You were supposed to tell me to keep writing! To let him cry! Are you in the other camp or something? Oh. Some of you are. Sorry. Fair enough.

So I guess I am in "let-him-cry-it-out" camp purgatory or something cause I just can't stay consistent.

I really need to pick a camp.

To pitch my tent.

To make that tent nice and cozy. With a little crib in it. For Drew of course.

And maybe a rocking chair.

Now this is cool.

Just in case.