I Miss You...Here's Where I've Been

Peer pressure is some serious business. We all feel it. Well, maybe you don't anymore...now that you're a grown-up. If you don't feel peer pressure as an adult, I'm jealous. Look, there's more proof that I feel it. I feel pressure to be exempt from pressure.


Several months ago, I read these words across my computer screen:


"You haven't posted anything new in 11 days. 221 people who like your page want to hear from you."


What?


Who did that person think she was telling me to come up with something interesting/endearing/clickworthy to share with my likers?


Well, it wasn't even a person. It was Facebook. A computer generated message, coded to pop up as a reminder for business owners and bloggers to keep their pages active, happening and vibrant. To keep those clickers clicking.


A quiet, inconspicuous nudge. Come on, say something. Anything. Bring someone here...to this page...your page. They want you. We want you. Do it.


I read the words, felt the pressure and caved. I typed. I created something for my likers to like. I did what I felt I was meant to do.


One of my dear friends straight out told me, "That's a lot of pressure from Facebook." I LOL-ed and smiley-face emoji-ed at her brilliant comment. (I don't think those are verbs yet, but I'm typing them anyway. I'm screwing teacher pressure tonight).


Life continued as it had for the previous many months. Eleven days between posts had once been a mighty number, so I squeezed it back to three. However, eventually, that high of eleven became nineteen. Nineteen morphed into thirty-three. This fall, Facebook made sure to warn me that my likers had gone a painstakingly 45 days without seeing anything new from their wise and witty Mama (Who Loves You and Chocolate, Too). What had I done? What was I thinking, not writing and sharing and blogging and posting? Where was I?


Don't I wish that I could tell you that I was living the easy life as all four of my kids were at school?


That I was kicking up my heels (FINALLY) and eating all those bon-bons I have been missing out on all these years?


That the breakfast dishes were cleaned up as soon as the kids hopped on the bus, in time for me to work out before my long, hot bubble bath?


That my husband and I were sneaking away for long lunches every day?


That I planned, shopped for and cooked wholesome and thoughtful meals, which were ready at 5:30 each night?


That the children did their homework without hesitation or fuss?


That they happily went upstairs after family book or game time, eagerly brushing teeth and taking showers, allowing us to relax with Jimmy Fallon and our unhealthy addiction to the new Netflix series Narcos?


Don't I freaking wish? If only that were how life was. For a real look into our lives, go ahead and reread those few sentences, knowing that none of it ever happened. In fact, it was the exact opposite...all the time. Our life was the typical, hectic, back to school mess with four kids, plus several medical disasters thrown into the mix. I was forced to give up running and yoga after a hefty injury to my ankle. Yes, again. My feet suck. I miss it more than I could have ever imagined.


Two of the children were/are being treated for some lasting health issues. For one of them, we met with or consulted with nine physicians and specialists. For the other, we are still not to the bottom of the problem and are seeking a second opinion after months of pain and therapy. One of the boys underwent ear tubes surgery, which had to be postponed once during his first medical crisis. Also, it wouldn't be Halloweentime without the family picking up the icky germs. Each morning, as I struggled to open my puffy eyes from another sleepless night, when I thought nothing more could go wrong for us, something always did.


Usually, I only complain to my closest friends, my mom and Mark. They hear the worst from me, They are my people. They know my scary stuff. Even if it had been physically possible for me to sit at my keyboard without crying or falling asleep, you guys didn't want to hear about all my drama. My stress. My major mama worries.


Or did you?


Lately, people have been asking where I've been. This morning, my friend hesitantly, yet dearly, confessed to me that she missed my blog. She told me that she wanted me to know, but she didn't want me to feel undue pressure to come back. It made me smile inside to know that my words have affected her and the others who expressed similar sentiments. I've wanted to be here for so long...I've missed you all. You know how much I hate to admit I can't do something, but spending part of nearly every day in a medical office Is.Just.So.Darn.Draining.


So, here's what I'm thinking. I'm thinking about peer pressure. The good kind. Did you know there is a good kind? I didn't need Facebook to toss meaningless numbers at me to start me writing again. Facebook pressure has proven to be ineffective on me the past several months. Thank goodness. I'm thinking that I needed to hear from just the right number of people, the exact number of times, that I should come back to my blog. Thank you, Sweet Smiling Sarah, for pressing me.


When I told you in early October that I was cutting back on blogging, I had no idea what was ahead. I was only a mom hoping to figure out her place in a day with no children. I was going to recharge myself to be the best mom ever! I imagined I would take time away from the keys to plan satisfying meals and take steamy baths and meet Mark for relaxing lunches and go on daytime runs and have coffee chats with friends and volunteer at both schools and paint everyone's rooms and magically tidy the whole house using the KonMari Method. If life ever really gets there, I'll be sure to tell you.


For now, I'll tell you that the life of every mom you know is probably overwhelmingly messy. She'll smile and like your pictures and click "maybe" on your invites, hoping that someday her life will calm down enough for her to actually finish that book on her nightstand. Don't give up on her. I won't give up on you either. Send me a note. Post on my page. Let's start talking about what is important to you.


Are you that messy mom feeling pressure? It's okay. I feel it, too, and people call me Supermom. Whatever.

MOUNTAINS. BABIES. PEACE.
 

I'd love for you to find me on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/mamalovesyouandchocolatetoo

http://mamalovesyouandchocolatetoo.blogspot.com/

Squashing Self Doubt with Pink Running Shoes

I issued quite a bold statement a couple of weeks ago by telling all of you that I was going to become a runner. I typed it for all of cyberspace to see, which meant I could not repeal my daring declaration. I'm a woman of my word, so I had every intention to begin running. Did you notice that I never gave an exact date or instituted a concrete plan for this impending lifestyle change? Maybe I did that on purpose.


The momentum immediately following my announcement was strong. Friends reached out with support for me, and many even took my advice in declaring their own goals. I was so proud of all of you for your bravery. For your confidence. For your strength. You were inspiring!


One of my dear friends scheduled an appointment to fit me for running shoes. She is an expert, and if I was going to be serious, I needed the right equipment. No blisters for this mama. She and I spent the morning navigating the elaborate world of running footwear. It was overwhelming to say the least. She evaluated my gait. After a year in denial, I verbally admitted that my feet have grown a full size since my last baby was born.


Before sweet Anne lifted the lid from the first pair of shoes, she prefaced the reveal by saying, "How do you feel about pink?"


I like pink. I really do. My last pair of basic gym shoes were actually gray with pink accents. However, these babies were pink with a little bit of gray. Bright pink. Neon pink! The color pink I wore to the roller rink in 1986...as an eight-year-old. I modeled many styles and colors for Anne on that cheerful Saturday morning. Eventually, after trying out several pairs of shoes, the ones that felt the best and worked well with my foot shape turned out to be the atomic pink ones. Go figure.


After I packed up my fancy shoes and new running socks in my trunk, I still had no real plan laid out for how I was going to become a runner. I considered wearing my shoes to the airport to break them in, but I worried about the commotion their illumination would cause when gliding through the people mover. Instead, the shopping bag remained in my trunk for another two weeks. Waiting. Waiting for me to utilize the momentum once again and actually wear them.

My week away in Florida and then a week of end-of-school celebrations came and went. I still hadn't even opened the shoe box to show them to Mark or my kids. Maybe because that would make me more accountable to starting, to actually putting one foot in front of the other and going.


The right time to run eventually did arise. Last Wednesday afternoon, another friend of mine, who is already a runner, sent me a link to a 5K training group she was going to lead...which was going to begin in four days. Four days! She had been one of my biggest cheerleaders in this journey, and this group was not originally going to offer a session until the end of the summer. Enough of a need had arisen to start an extra training session now. Lucky for me! I decided the time was now. I promised her and told my very trusted physical therapist that I was going to do it. I was going to run a 5K in August.


All of the other girls who had considered running with me a month ago were becoming hesitant now that it was here. Now that it was real. I desperately wanted one of them to join the group with me, so that I wouldn't be the only newbie in a sea full of seasoned athletes. My confidence was waning. Somebody told me how hard it was going to be. My reserve of inspiration was slowly depleting. My husband feared I was going to try to run three miles on the first day, and he didn't want to see me hurt myself. I began to question my ability, just like I had done when I decided to try yoga last year (which, by the way, has become a part of me now...something I crave).


Perhaps Google would help ease my hesitation. Big mistake. A few quick searches, and I was doubting that I should even attempt the training. It's not actually called "Couch to 5K," which is what I think I need. What if it's too much too soon, and I can't do it? I don't even walk vigorously on a regular basis...I am freaking out!


In came my coach...my cheerleader, Wendy. She listened to my concerns and then told me not to freak and to show up. Two of my other friends would also be coaches, so a warm smile in the early morning was sure to go a long way. To my surprise, one of my previously hesitant friends decided to try it at the last second! She offered to pick me up so we could walk in together. Amazing! Everything was coming together so nicely, so I threw my apprehension out the window. I told Mark that I wasn't going to settle for any doubt, from anywhere or anyone...especially myself. I was going to run that 5K race in eight weeks. Nobody was going to tell me I couldn't do anything...ever.


What happened next was just what happened with my first time at yoga. I did what I had set out to do. Only this time I wasn't barefoot. I marched up, in my pink shoes, to a group of runners...and ran.


Surrounded by people from all walks of life, wearing every shade of neon color, we walked and ran and walked and ran...for sixteen minutes. When we circled back to the starting point, I was out of breath and sweaty and tired, of course, yet I felt exhilarated. Recharged by the fact that I had taken this challenge for myself seriously and conquered it. I pounded my doubt and fear into the pavement with my aggressive pink shoes.

Have you started on that journey you said you wanted to try last month? It's already the middle of June! If you sit around and pretend it will go away, like I might have done if it weren't for my special kicker-in-the-pantsers, you may regret it. Even if your body grows sore from using muscles you didn't know you had, or your mind tires easily from taking classes after a decade of only reading Dr. Seuss, it will be worth it. Let's go!

I'd love for you to find me on Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/mamalovesyouandchocolatetoo

http://mamalovesyouandchocolatetoo.blogspot.com/

 

The Universe and this Mama Say, "Your Time is Now!"

I know this happens to all of you when you want to attempt something new. An idea creeps into your mind at the most inconvenient times, whispering into your over-thinking brain, "Hey, you know you should try it. It's meant for you. You see everyone else doing it, and you would be just as awesome at it as they are, so why don't you just freaking try it? Come on, try it. Do it!"


Of course, I'm not talking about any harmful temptations or negative peer pressure. I mean something that, ultimately, you know would fulfill you. It's something you want, yet you just don't know how to leap for it.


In the past, I have described for you my journey to starting this blog and beginning my yoga practice. These were two paths that I wanted for myself...envisioned for myself...yet I was unsure how to even begin to implement them into this really nutty life of ours. The key to turning those goals into a reality came when I vocalized them. The moment that I began to tell people that I was considering writing and trying yoga, a steady flow of encouragement bombarded me. It was invigorating. Nourishing. Supporting. Just what I needed to move forward and try.


Can I tell you a secret? I have a few new goals. I had been hiding from them for a long time, trying to keep them quiet. Hidden deep inside and away from anyone who would hold me accountable to them. If I ignored them or shushed them, they would go away. Right?


Wrong!


They wouldn't leave me alone. They refused to slink away into the night, leaving me to dream about decadent peanut butter shakes or luxurious hot stone massages. Instead, those goals have been relentless. Determined. Serious.


Then, somebody said something to bring out the brave in me.


A friend of mine communicated why she began something new in her own life. She described it as, "Everything in the universe was telling me to do it." Everywhere she turned: Television, online, friends, magazines, strangers. This new path was constantly in her face. Taunting her. Begging her to jump in and go.


As those words slipped out of her mouth, I stared at her in a trance, because her story seemed to be my story. That is exactly what happened to me with blogging and yoga. Maybe that's what is happening to me now.


With my new goals.


With my plans to become a runner....and a writer who reaches more people.


There. Those are my goals. I said them. Did you hear me?


I don't need to tell you all of the small ways in which I felt pulled to declare these goals. You only need to know that I finally was forced into making them real when an eclectic group of mamas sat together in a circle, drinking wine and sniffing essential oils. That's when I knew. Weird, huh?


Really, this post isn't for me. It's for you. For all of you who need something in the universe to tell you that it's time. I am here to tell you, it's time. Your time is now. Why are you waiting? Let me awaken that voice in your mind. You have no need to keep her quiet any longer. Wake her up and go!

Why was I so scared to do something new...again? Maybe these nasty little ego suckers, perfectionism and worry, played a role in my trepidation. Taming those beasts is something many of us struggle with, even the people who seem to be extremely confident. Fear of Failure. It's real and fierce. Let's encourage each other to stomp it into the ground.

 

 

How am I doing it? I told my runner friends, in person, that I'm going to start running. I jumped up and down with another friend who was also thinking about running. I encouraged her to declare her plans with me, because that's the first step. Seriously, that's what I did. After a PTA meeting, a few of us hopped around and chanted, "Say it out loud, say it, say it, say it!! We can do it together!" Corny? Maybe. Effective? Let's hope so!

 

As for my writing: I'm hoping that I can continue to grow my readership. I plan to work on submitting my writing more starting in September, but until then, I'll ask that if you are touched by one of my pieces, please share it with whomever you think will also enjoy it. I would like to have 1000 followers on my Facebook page by the end of this year. Bam! I'm being bold.


Let's make it happen.


If I haven't told you enough, thank you for being here with me. You have so many places to be and things to do, so when you take time to drive your eyes this way and read my words, I'm forever grateful.

I'd love for you to find me on Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/mamalovesyouandchocolatetoo

http://mamalovesyouandchocolatetoo.blogspot.com/

A Kick in the Yoga Pants

Sometimes, we just need somebody else to be our motivator. Our cheerleader. Our kicker-in-the-pantser. Yes, we're adults. We manage households full of people without any direction from anybody. We should know how to do the same for ourselves, right? Lately, I found myself in this strange limbo. I was still doing all of my mom, wife and school duties, but I had neglected to place "take care of myself" in that never-ending to-do list.

It has been a few months since I took that huge leap of faith and went to yoga for the very first time. It was an incredibly rewarding experience, and I continued to go week after week, loving everything that came with it. The meditation, the relaxation, the sweat, the challenge. I was suddenly like, "yoga...it's my thing now." That is until I had a few rough Mondays. Migraines, stomach flu, neck pain, stress. They were all creeping in, seemingly trying to ruin my new peaceful practice. Didn't my body know how much I needed to be at yoga on Mondays?

For three weeks, I was not well enough to go. I rested at home instead. I sat on the couch next to Mark, eating ice cream and catching up on The Tonight Show. Sounds lame, right? Aside from being next to my husband in the evening, it was pretty lame compared to the really cool stuff I had been doing at yoga.

I had been knocked down for three weeks. Although I knew my body could handle going back to class, I had lost my momentum. I felt all those same jitters that I experienced before my first class coming back. Would I fall? Would I run out of breath? Mark, my sudden cheerleader, encouraged me to go. He kept sneaking in questions about it, asking me "So, what time is class tonight?" even though it has always been the same time. He was my new accountability person. So, I went back to yoga last week.

That night, for the first time after class, I found myself feeling sad. I felt like I didn't really know anybody there, and I was lost. I felt out of place and lonely. I felt that the positives I had received from the exercise and relaxation had been pounced on by the negative emotions I came away with when it was over. I came home and told Mark that I didn't know if I would go back to that class. (Again...lame).

Last night was Monday, aka yoga night. It arrived like clockwork. Funny how the calendar works. I had no reason not to get off my rear and go to class. My body was sound and craved the physical transformation it feels after yoga practice. It was my mind that was not in the best of health. Mark asked me during the day what time my class was, even though I know he knows. I was finishing up dinner in the kitchen, and he came through the door after work. He placed his arm around me and brought it up once more. I started to cry, telling him that I didn't think I could go back again. I didn't feel confident enough to put myself out there, to feel alone in the class of so many people who already seemed to be friends.

I was rationalizing in my head that maybe I would just do yoga at home. (Even though I bought a DVD months ago and haven't opened it yet). My motivator wiped my tears, told me that he knows how hard it is to feel how I was feeling, and he encouraged me to go anyway. I shrugged him off and continued stirring what was in the pan on my stove.

When the whole family finished eating dinner at about 6:02 p.m., my kicker-in-the-pantser made one last ditch effort to move me out the door. Did he know what he was doing? Of course he did, although it was ever-so-subtle. He asked me, "So, is your class at 6:30 or 7?"

Darn. He won't let it go. I guess I should just do it.

Besides my husband's nudges, throughout the day, I had been unable to shake this image from my head. My yoga instructor had posted it early in the morning, with our invitation to class.

 

It's what I tell people all the time, about everything important. We'll likely regret not doing something way more than we'd ever regret doing it.

 

So, upstairs I went to slip into my yoga pants and top-the first work-out clothes I have owned since my high school cheerleading days. Trixie filled my water bottle for me, and I almost walked out without my mat. She reminded me to grab it, all the kids told me to have fun at yoga, and then I left, into the night of freezing rain and drear.

 

I walked into our warm, calm and darkened yoga room with a new attitude. With an attitude that I wasn't there to make new friends. I was there for myself and my health. I was not going to worry about socializing, even though that's such an integral part of who I am. Then, something awesome happened. The room began to fill with the bodies of people who were friendly, smiley and welcoming. Last night's yoga was the best of both worlds. Amazing work-out. Amazing people.

 

I have two people to thank for kicking me in the yoga pants:

 

My husband, who had seen the struggle within me the past few weeks, and my instructor, who shared the most timely piece of encouragement, as if it was meant just for me.

 

Do you have any cheerleaders, motivators, or kicker-in-the-pantsers that seem to know exactly how to keep you moving? Have you ever told them what they've done for you or thanked them for being an inspiration? Maybe try it today.  

 

I'd love for you to find me on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/mamalovesyouandchocolatetoo