Thin Mints are an Oxymoron

Well, my journey to bikini was thrown a curve ball. A curve ball in the shape of round, little COOKIES! It's Girl Scout cookie time, and my home is filled with boxes of the yummy creations. The boxes arrived on Friday. Today is Sunday, and the past few days have been quite a struggle.

I wish I could be the kind of person who can avoid the delicious treats (that are only available once a year which makes them taste even better). I really do! But, alas, I am not. My idea of eating one thin mint is to eat one entire sleeve of thin mints. Now, for the record, I have not - and I repeat - have NOT eaten an entire sleeve today, yesterday, or even Friday when the villains disguised in cute, little, green outfits delivered their contraband to my home.

Although I must confess, I have had, eh-hum, a few... just to be polite, of course.

Superman is brought to his knees with kryptonite. Show me a pretty, purple box of Samoas (a.k.a. Caramel Delites), and it's all over. The head games start immediately.

For example, yesterday morning I needed to take my daughter for an eye exam. We were playing our usual game of beat-the-clock and the clock was winning. As I filled my thermos with coffee, my internal discussion went something like this:

..."hmmm, a few thin mints sure would taste good with this java. I don't have time to make egg whites and broccoli. Each cookie is a mere 40 calories. That's nothing! I can have 2 or 3 and still have consumed less calories than my normal breakfast."

The only problem with this rationalization is that this breakfast WAS nothing. No protein, no nothing. Just a full on sugar fest.

So I'm trying to re-strategize my thinking and rid myself of these demons.... by donating all of the remaining boxes to the food bank!!!

To Bikini or Mumu?

What do you do when you have a degree in kinesiology, earn a living as a personal trainer, yet weigh more today than you did after giving birth to 3 children in 4 years?

Knowing what to do and actually doing it can be a difficult choice.

I know what to do. I know how to fix this. What I need is motivation and accountability.

Sooooo, recently I booked a trip to a swanky, adults only hotel in Mexico. The type of hotel you don't wear a frumpy Mom-suit by the pool. We are talking brazilian string bikinis. Ugh!!!! Hence, MOTIVATION.

Kicking my own ass isn't a problem. I will gladly exercise until the cows come home. What I struggle with is.... how should I put this... being happy (which I blame solely on my husband). Before I met him, I was a struggling, single mother of young children who weighed 25 pounds less than this married mother of teenagers. No lie. 25 freaking pounds!!!! When I am miserable, I don't eat. When I am happy, I LOVE to eat. So all of this happy, wining and dining stuff has landed me with a body I don't even recognize.

Enough is enough!!

As of today, I have decided to bare it all (and I am not talking skin). I am inviting you on my no holds barred journey to squeeze back into a bikini and not hide under a mumu in Mexico. I pledge to document daily the good, the bad, and most certainly the ugly. Please, please, please.... help keep me ACCOUNTABLE for my actions. I hate disappointing anyone. Deal?

Fear, Gratitude, and Hugs

There is a framed photo on my desk of a hammock on a beach. The colors of the photo have faded. The memory has not.

A few years ago, I was talking to a dear friend, Karen, about my marriage. She could tell by my voice that something was terribly wrong. Immediately, she invited me to meet her in Puerto Rico. She was going there for a job interview and said I could just stay with her and relax for a few days. My husband (now ex-husband) refused me permission to purchase an airline ticket. I was crushed. The next day, a Fed-Ex package arrived with my ticket to Puerto Rico and a note from Karen that read "See you soon!"

She picked me up at the airport and for the next few days we laughed and we cried.. and somewhere in that time, my heart started to heal. Before going back home, I walked on the beach, settled in on a cozy hammock, and stared at the ocean. Lying there, I became overwhelmed with bittersweet emotions: fear and gratitude. Fear that my marriage was about to end. Gratitude for the gift of our friendship as well as the joy and peace that I felt for those few precious days. Wanting to freeze time, I placed the camera over my tear drenched eye and seized the moment.

That photo still stirs up powerful emotions.

Karen and I have been friends since our college days at PSU. We were both kinesiology majors and met at our personal training job. I went on to run a YMCA in Williamsport, PA, get married and have 3 kids. She went on to work at La Costa Spa in California, then moved to Milan, Italy, and ended up joining the Navy to pursue her dream of becoming a pilot.

While I was birthing babies, she was flying P-3 airplanes and playing Navy volleyball all over the world. She even won the 2001 Armed Services Volleyball Championship. Karen retired from the Navy after actively serving for 10 years, became a pilot for JetBlue, and continues to serve in the Navy reserves.

A few months ago she was surprised to found out that she was called to be a commander of a ground unit in Afghanistan. She left her home and her job in May and is currently in Fort Bragg preparing for her deployment.

So when she asked me to meet her in Virginia Beach on her last free weekend before going off to war, I didn't hesitate, I went.

I received her call Thursday evening (minutes after arriving home from a family vacation), tried to get a flight the next day, but had to wait until Saturday. She sent me a text Friday night "Can't wait to pick you up tomorrow and give you a big hug girlfriend!" We were hugging by 9am Saturday morning outside Norfolk airport.

For 36 hours, we were inseparable. We rode our bikes to the beach and spent the entire day laughing and reminiscing and staring at the ocean. That night we listened to live music and danced the night away.... the entire night... and watched the sun rise the next morning.

That's how we roll. Pack as much as possible in to the time we have together... sleep is rarely included. Unfortunately our rendezvous adventures are few and far between and always bookended with trips to an airport.

This past weekend was no exception.

As we were packing up to leave the beach house, she remembered that her driver's license was in my wallet. I placed it in her hand and she said, "Good thing we remembered my ID, you sure don't want to be me."

Nothing could be further from the truth.

She is my mentor and my idol. I love her like a sister. And, if I could protect her from harm in anyway, I would do it without question.

When the time came to do that drive, that miserable journey back to the airport, a sick feeling started to stir in my belly. We have done this exchange a million times in a million cities, and it never, ever gets any easier. As co-pilot, I sang along to songs on the radio and told silly stories meanwhile secretly chanting to myself "don't cry, don't cry, don't cry". And I didn't. Not until I got out of the car, stood on my tippy toes and reached up to give her a hug.

When I got home I looked at that photo of me on the hammock staring at the ocean and once again was filled with bittersweet emotions: fear and gratitude. Fear for the unknown. Gratitude for the gift of our friendship as well as the joy and peace that I felt for those few precious hours.

Karen will return home in July 2011 and you can be sure that whenever that happens, where ever that may be, I will be catching the next flight out to see her... and will give her the biggest hug this world has ever seen.

United We Stand. Divided We Fall.

While teaching a 9:00 a.m. fitness class, one of my regular participants arrived uncharacteristically late. With a wink, I told her to do push-ups as penance. She laughed and explained that she had been late due to listening to the news. A plane had hit the World Trade Center. I decided to turn on the classroom television to see what was happening. Suddenly, we watched together as the events of 9/11/01 unfolded directly in front of our eyes.

Many things were going through my head that morning. Should I get my children out of school? Where is my brother who was a flight attendant? Are my Manhattan friends okay? What the heck is going on??? After my class ended, I walked on the treadmill watching and listening to various news reports trying to understand what was going on. Nobody knew what was going to happen next.

I decided not to alarm my children by taking them out of school early. Instead, I gathered my baby and our belongings from the gym and drove to pick-up my daughter from pre-school. Only after I had my children home, fed, and down for a nap, did I turn on the television to watch the news and make phone calls. I shielded my children as best I could from the horror and mayhem of that day. I discovered my brother was safe and visiting friends in California. My Manhattan friends were traumatized, but okay. And, the pundits were trying their best to make sense out of these tragic events.

What I remember most in the days and months that followed that terrible Tuesday was a feeling of unity. People came together. It didn't matter if they were blue or red, black or white, a fireman or an investment banker. People united. They donated their time, their money, their prayers, and their hearts. We grieved together for the loss of lives. We yearned together for 9/10 - the world as we knew it. In time, band-aids were applied, wounds were healed, and we forged a new normal.

Fast forward 8 years. What happened to that unity?

This past week there was outrage regarding President Obama addressing our children. The outlandish claims and the divisiveness along party lines regarding this issue has struck a chord deep within me. Teachers and parents chose to shield their students (my children!) from a speech about staying in school, respecting your teachers, and doing their best. Empowering children to believe in themselves and encouraging children to achieve their dreams, is one of the best gifts our children and our country can receive. They are our future.

I am respectful of opinions different than my own, and I strive to teach my children that same respect. I encourage them to open their minds and their ears and to make their own informed decisions. Our dinner table conversations and family meeting discussions have included heated debates on religion, politics, and, of course, the distribution of allowance money. No topic is banned and all opinions are safely vetted without fear of retaliation.

On September 12, 2001 as I was unloading groceries in my kitchen I noticed my oldest son playing with 2 boxes of sandwich bags and a small toy car. He took the boxes and put them on end so that they were standing tall. He took the toy car and "flew" it toward the tall boxes. I watched him carefully as he approached the boxes. At the last moment as the car was about to crash into the boxes, he immediately diverted it and allowed it to fly safely around to the other side. Noticing that I had been watching him, he looked up at me and simply said, "Wouldn't that have been great Mommy?". With my lip quivering as I tried to restrain my emotion, I responded, "Yes, Jack, that would have been terrific."

My hope, my wish, my dream, my fervent prayer is that one day our children and our grandchildren and our great-grandchildren will grow and flourish in a world free from hate and discrimination. I have faith in this great country. I believe it should not be segregated with selfishness, but proudly proclaimed as the United States of America.

Back on the wagon

It's time.  I have tried to ignore the repeated calling.  I have tried justifying reasons for not sitting my ass down and doing it.  I have tried to tell myself that doing everything else is more important and maybe everything else is more important.  All that I know is that I NEED to start writing again.  I have been touched with so many amazing experiences recently.  Sharing those experiences in words will be extremely cathartic for me.  

The other day my youngest son, Nick, who is 9 years old walked toward me with his hands behind his back.  It had been "one of those days" where my patience had been pushed to the limit.  Being the empath that he is, he knew just what to do.  

Nick says to me, "Mommy, close your eyes, I have a surprise for you."  I was plowing through our shoe laden and backpack/lunchbox/coat strewn mud room at the time and didn't really appreciate the intrusion.  

He says it again, "Mommy I have something for you that you are really going to like!".  

So, I stopped trying to clear a path and heeded his request.  I stood up, closed my eyes, and waited for my surprise.  

"Okay, open your eyes, Mommy."

And as I did, Nick, releases his hands from behind his back and wraps them around me as tight as he possibly could.  With tears streaming down my face I look at his cherub face and see pure joy shining up at me.  

"It's a hug, Mommy.  I knew you would really like it."

This was one of those moments that will always remain etched in my mind.  My little boy knew just what I needed at just the right time.

Nearly 7 years of his young life has been shared between his father and me.  Our divorce and the strained circumstances surrounding it has necessitated a dual residency.  His father and I have been in and out of court continually over the past 7 years trying to reach an amicable custody agreement.  

My children are the oxygen I need to breath and this custody battle is surrendering me breathless.  If you read my Facebook posts today you will notice that I have been quoting Tom Petty lyrics from the song, "Won't back down".  The reason is because I am being challenged once again to modify our current custody agreement.  

Years ago, when I was going through the initial divorce proceedings, a comment was made about me that became my fuel to press on.  The comment was, "She's too meek.  She won't follow through."  Meek?  "I am not meek" became my mantra, and I was able to start a new life for myself and my children.

Today, "You can stand me up at the gates of hell..... and I won't back down."  

A mother's will to protect her children is fierce.  A mother's need for oxygen is essential.  I am a mother.

"And I'll keep this world from draggin' me down.  Gonna stand my ground.  Won't get turned around.  Well, I know what's right, I got just one life.  In a world that keeps on pushin' me around.  And, I won't back down."

  

say

I am looking forward to going to the theatre this weekend. To sit and watch an entire movie is not easy for me. First, there is the issue of sitting still for 2 hours. Second, there is the issue of staying awake. My body is used to being in constant motion and when it finally stops, I usually crash. So, when I have a choice of going to the theatre or hanging out with my husband or friends, I chose the latter. I would much rather engage in conversation than sit and fall asleep. BUT, this weekend I am foregoing all of my preconceived biases regarding the theatre and have a date with my husband to see the movie The Bucket List. It is about making a list of all of the things you want to do before you kick the bucket.

I was intrigued about it after I saw the music video "Say" by John Mayer http://thebucketlist.warnerbros.com/ . It is the theme song for the movie. The lyrics move me:

Take all your wasted honor
Every little past frustration
Take all your so called problems
Better put 'em in quotations

Walking like a one man army
Fighting with the shadows in your head
Living out the same old moment
Knowing you'd be better off instead
If you could only.....

Have no fear for giving in
Have no fear for giving over
You'd better know that in the end
It's better to say too much
Then never say what you need to say again.

Even if your hands are shaking
And your faith is broken
Even is the eyes are closing
Do it with a heart wide open

Say what you need to say

When Wes and I were dating, he took me on this amazing trip to Aspen, Colorado. I remember the spectacular views from the condo where we stayed, the romantic walks through the city, but my most vivid memories were the conversations by the fire. I asked him a lot of questions trying to get to know him. One question was "What was the best gift you ever received?". He answered that is was a book Brocus Brain by Carl Sagan. His Aunt gave it to him when he was young. He said it changed his life and spurred him onto his career as a scientist. Wes never told her this so I suggested that he write her a letter and share how wildly important her gift was to him.

Say what you need to say.

I know several people who are in broken marriages. Marriages where trust has been questioned and love has been tested. Sometimes saying what you really need to say to your partner is incredibly difficult. Difficult because you are afraid. Difficult because it leaves you vulnerable. Difficult because of the potential consequence. It seems easier just to sweep it under the rug than to expose yourself and your partner to the rawness of reality. I can tell you from experience that the struggle NOT to say what you need to say is far more difficult than actually getting it out there in the open.

Say what you need to say.

I have been abundantly blessed to have met many amazing people who have influenced my own life: teachers, friends, acquaintances, even strangers. Have I told each of them how they have impacted my life? Not yet. But I AM trying. I remember being at a retreat many years ago when I worked for the YMCA. We were asked to write a letter to someone who has made a difference in our life. I did it. I wrote a letter to a friend of mine. I wrote about how she gave me direction and encouragement during a tumultuous time in my life. Did I send it? No. I was too embarrassed. Do I regret not sending it? Yes. (but I did tell her how I felt).

Say what you need to say.

Saying how you feel is not always easy. Doing what you need to do is not always easy.
I try to live my life with no regrets. I try to be the best mother/wife/friend/daughter/personal trainer I possibly can. Have I done everything I want to do? Hell no! Have I said everything I need to say? Hell no! If I kick the bucket tomorrow would I have any true regrets??? Hell NO! Sure there is the laundry list of bad choices and should have, could have, would have's, but I have to admit there isn't anything I truly regret. I believe that even if my path was a little bumpy, the road got me where I needed to be; where I am supposed to be.

I challenge you to take inventory of your own life. Make your own bucket list. Say. Do. Be. Live your life fully. Just like the lyrics in Leeann Womack's song Dance........

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking

Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter

When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance(Time is a wheel in constant motion always)
I hope you dance(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance(Tell me who)
I hope you dance(Wants to look back on their years and wonder)(Where those years have gone)

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance

I hope YOU dance! Life is way too short.

time refined

There is chronological time and there is the absence of time. There is time that you spend watching the clock, waiting or wanting; and then there are moments where time stands still and becomes a part of you. Chronos and Kairos are Greek words for opposing worlds of time. Chronos, in my opinion, is time at its worst. Clocks, blackberries, deadlines, calendars, planners, and appointments are all products of chronos. Kairos, conversely, is time at its best. Making love, watching my children sleep, observing the colors in the sky as the sun rises and sets, sitting on a beach watching my children play in the ocean, writing this blog outside on a gorgeous, summer morning are all my personal examples of kairos.



Sarah Ban Breathnach writes in Simple Abundance (one of my absolute favorite books) "We exist in Chronos. We long for Kairos. That's our duality. Chronos requires speed so that it won't be wasted. Kairos requires space so that it might be savored. We do in Chronos. In Kairos we're allowed to be."


For weeks 3 words have been swirling in my head. Kairos, cancer, and love. I felt a calling to write about each but didn't know how to connect or seperate them. I decided to pray about this and suddenly found myself crying (God's way of saying "That's It!"). He helped me realize that these 3 words -kairos, cancer, love- were all one in the same. Each one is about time at its best.



You may be thinking, "but cancer"? Time at its best????? Yes. Because the moment you don't know where your life is going.......... is the moment your life's journey begins. If you have been reading my blog, you will notice that I have written on occasion about cancer. Not in the medicinal way, but more as a wake up call.


I have been blessed to know many amazing people in my life. Unfortunately, some of these amazing people have been diagnosed with cancer. In my short, 40 years of life (yes, I admit, I am no longer in my 30's) I have lost 2 friends with melanoma (skin cancer), an Aunt to lung cancer, my grandfather to stomach cancer, and just a few short months ago my mother-in-law to multiple myeloma (bone marrow cancer). I have a good friend and an Aunt who beat breast cancer, another good friend who won over ovarian cancer, an uncle who tackled prostate cancer, and an Aunt who is currently fighting lung cancer. I have prayed and cried and sometimes become quite angry upon hearing the news that someone I love has cancer. It is shocking and it invokes fear and questions.... no matter how many times or how many people I know go through it.



A few short days ago, I learned that my Mom has been diagnosed with breast cancer. I have no words to describe how this feels. I guess, the best word is raw. No matter how many times, no matter how many people, no matter how close the friend or family member, .............. there are NO comparisons to hearing the news that the woman who gave you life, the woman you love, the woman who has loved you unconditionally through thick and thin (and I don't mean waist sizes) has cancer.


Love. It is a living, breathing gift that comes in many shapes, strengths, and sizes. A mother's love is the strongest of all. I had no idea I could love anyone as much as I love my children. It was with this knowledge that I finally understood how much my own Mother loves me.


My husband's love has been a tremendous gift to me. He is my best friend, my soul mate, my beacon of light in the darkest of days. He gives me strength when I am weak and comfort when I am worn. It is the kind of love I dreamed about as a little girl. I believe in love, and I believe in the sanctity of marriage. Someone recently told me that he believed my blog was "a platform to promote divorce". Let me say for the record: Yes, I am divorced. No, I don't recommend it. Divorce is a very personal and difficult decision. No one should ever be judged for being loved. No one should ever be judged for being divorced.



Wes and I just celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary in Annapolis last week. While there, I noticed a boat named Kairos, and it was in that moment that I realized something powerful: my life before Wes was chronos; my life with Wes is all kairos. We each had both got a second chance for a lifetime love.


When Wes's Mom, Mary, passed away, I remarked to Wes's Dad, Dick, that the only good thing I can say about cancer is that it gives you time. It gives you time (another chance) to do the things, you may have put off. It gives you time to say the things, you haven't said. It gives you time to appreciate kairos (time spent being and savoring) and acknowledge chronos (time spent mindlessly doing and existing).



Dick and Mary were the perfect example of what love and marriage should look like. I have never seen 2 people more in love and beautiful in all of my life. Dick was to retire in May 2004. Mary was diagnosed in April 2004. She passed away in January 2007. Their dream had been to travel as soon as Dick retired. And, despite her dialysis 3 times a week, they managed to fit in quite a bit of traveling and being and savoring during those 32 months.



Life cannot be defined; it can only be refined. It is a series of evolution. I don't know who I am yet to be. God does. I have to trust Him to keep me on the right path. All that I do know is that I am the potential of myself. I will keep myself open to the hills and valleys that will continue to bless my life. I am not in control. I don't know the master plan. I do own my life and will take responsibility for my choices. I can choose to view life with a clear lens or choose to be it's "victim". The victim mentality is a plague.


I just finished the Wall Street Journal best seller, Fish, by Stephen Lundin. He says "There is something I know about you that you may not even know about yourself. You have within you more resources of energy than ever been tapped, more talent than has ever been exploited, more to give than you have ever given, and more strength than has ever been tested."


We are each products of life's experiences: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Kairos, cancer, and love. The strongest power in life is to experience emotion. By experiencing emotion, your connection to life (to God) are the moments that create expansion and allow you to grow. These pivotal moments in life can make or break you. Don't let them break you. Let them help to refine you.