Saturday, October 27, 2012

Orgasmic Birth Part 1

No I didn't have one. But I watched a documentary with that title a few weeks shy of my son's birth. I watched it alone in my bedroom. The hubby walked in (probably thinking he was gonna catch me watching something naughty) and said "what the hell is that!?!" I told him about the documentary. His response was "I'm all for a natural delivery, the doula and even having the baby here, but you better not cum on my son!" I laughed so hard a probably peed a little (one of the joys of pregnancy) and told him I was sure I wouldn't, but if my choices were hell in the lady bits or orgasm, I hoped to be closer to the O side.

While pregnant I spent all my time collecting birth stories, watching birth documentaries (including every prego/birth thing on reality TV: 16 and Pregnant, Teen Mom, Baby's First Day, I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant, to name just a few), all in the name of research. I also spent a fair amout of my time going to baby fairs, Googling and reading EVERYTHING I could get my hands on about pregnancy, labor and delivery and developing embryos. That's the kind of girl I am, if I don't know about something I research the hell out of it so I wont be so scared/anxious/freaked out about it. I pretty much resigned myself to the fact that it was gonna suck donkey balls and last FOREVER. In the end though, I would have my baby, and eventually it would be a distant memory.

We hired a kick ass doula named Suzette. She was awesome from the word go. From the moment we met her we felt comfortable and knew she was the girl to get us through this super scary event. I wanted her so I would have someone to help with pain management and so she could tell us when it was time to go to the hospital. Because since I couldn't get Blue Shield to pony up for a home birth, I planned to stay home as long as possible, before heading to Hospital.

She helped us plan for the big day. First going over what we hoped would happen. Who would be there and what there roles would be. Next we went over what we would do if things did not go as planned or at what point certain drugs and medical interventions would take place, and how I would deal if my low risk birth became an emergency situation. I felt so secure that no matter what happened; Unplanned c-section, induced labor, epidural after hrs of no progress, I was prepared. I was as confident and as ready as one could be before a human being comes through your birth canal.

So just before 8pm last year I was laying in bed watching TV, when I felt something a little wet. And I thought to myself, am I peeing on myself? WTF! I ran to the bathroom. Then thought, wait did my water break? Wait, am I having contractions? I came out and told my husband, and called Suzette. She told me to start timing and get some sleep. Since I would likely be heading to the hospital in the wee hrs of the morning. And to call her again when the contractions were stronger.  The hubby was a bit frazzled, but I felt calm knowing we still had a ways to go.

Once we got off the phone I downloaded an app to time my contractions (I love my phone). Then text my sister and cousin so they would be ready to go to the hospital with us sometime that night.

But something unexpected happened.

Within the hour my contractions were 5 min apart and I couldn't stand or talk when I had one. I called my Doctor, she instructed me to go to the hospital. I called Suzette and she said she was ready to head down and meet me at the hospital. I told her to wait and we would call  her from the hospital. It was probably way too early. After all my water had only broken a little more than an hour ago. We called my sister and cousin who would be going to the hospital with us and told them to come over since we planned to take one car. In the mean time I called my mom.

 By ten o'clock, a mere two hours from my water breaking, we were on our way.

The car ride was terrible. So uncomfortable and the contractions were now 2-3 minutes. This was not at all like what I had planned for. I was supposed to be like one of those women in the movies I had watched. Laboring for hrs at home. Killing time between contractions. Yelling obscenities at the hubby while in the throes of pain. I was getting to the hospital too soon. I was afraid I might not be making the right choices but Suzette seemed on board with my doctors instructions and so I reminded myself that's why we hired her and she'd been through this with other moms before, and it must be time for me to go to the hospital. 

When we got there the hubby dropped us off at the L&D entrance and asked what he needed to bring after he parked the car. I reminded him that we had preregistered and so we needed nothing but the bag we prepared for hospital. Once I got to L&D with my sister and cousin, the nurse told me I needed a bunch a shit, EVEN THOUGH I HAD PREREGISTERED and was was told I DIDN'T NEED ANYTHING BUT MY ID. So my sister went to tell the hubby to go back to the car for all the extra crap. 

As we started getting settled into the room. I gave the nurse a copy of my birth plan, she rolled her eyes and said "and your Dr is ok with this?" I told her she was, and she rolled her eyes again. I knew this was going to be a long night and I was so glad I went with my gut and hired the doula. 

Once we were settled in Delivery room, the nurse checked me at 11 pm. I  was 4 centimeters. WTF! I knew I had made a mistake coming so early. I had really wanted to be at home till at least 6 maybe 7 centimeters. I said "at least I wont need the Pitocin" and the nurse said "we'll see, if you haven't made any progress in a few hours you may still need it". Having watched hours and hours of births and having listened to story after story I knew I had made a terrible mistake by coming so early. It would be hours before I made any progress I was sure, and now I was stuck. They weren't going to let me go home now. I was really upset with myself. 

Then, Suzette called she had not listened to me, deciding after speaking to me that she should head down and meet us at the hospital. I was so grateful, as was my hubby. 

Stay tuned for part 2, you'll get to hear about why it was so great she didn't listen. Why the Nurses started to chew the hubby out when he started playing The Hives, and why my doctor chewed out the L&D nurses.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

TT They Asked, I Answered

10 getting to know you questions.

I feel like a celebrity in Big Bopper... (for those of you not in your thirties take out BB and enter Teen... magazine of your choice)

1) What's worst drunken episode of adult life?
 Just about four years ago the hubby and I went to a club where a friend was the DJ. After dancing and drinking all night we left the club with a friend and stopped at Denny's for a 3am breakfast. I ordered and excused myself to the ladies room. Where I proceeded to vomit and pass out. Our friend had to go under the stall door to rescue me. Not my finest hour. I somehow managed not to be that girl in my early twenties and instead was that girl at 30. :(

2) If you could have a super power (x-ray vision, invisibility, etc) what would it be and why?
  I would want shapeshifting powers (like Mystique) now you know what the dorkiest thing I'm gay for is, Comic/Superheros having the ability to transform into whatever and whomever, that's the super power for me. 

3) If you could retire anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?
  Probably Canada. For the universal health care. 

4) Which TV/movie character best resembles your personality?
  My hubby says Jenny M. (the wife) on The League. He says I'm hot(not presently but pre-baby), funny and can hangout and drink with the guys and it not suck. I'm not 100 percent on that, but I gotta admit that I love he thinks that and I would be proud to be like her.

5) If your readers met you in person, what would surprise them most about you?
  This is a little racist of me, but I think the fact that I'm Mexican and not white would probably be the most surprising thing to them.

6) What is your most embarrassing parenting fail?
  It used to be that I couldn't get my son to sleep or nap for that matter. But I have found that that's a very common problem at least in my neck of the woods. Plus we more or less solved that problem. Now it's that he bites his father and I and that he doesn't share. The fact that he's only a year old today is of little consolation. But I have hope...

7) Is there someone you wish you could apologize to?
   I had a best friend in 3rd,4th,and 5th grade. Her name was Laura. She was a good friend. At the end of 5th grade I was given the opportunity to skip the 6th grade and go straight to 7th. I took it and as soon as I made new friends I stopped talking to her. I couldn't hangout with a sixth grader you see. Being such a lame person is a big regret. I think about Laura from time to time and I always wish I could apologize to her.   

8) What's your guilty pleasure?  
  Reality TV. Specifically 16 and Pregnant and Teen Mom (1 and 2) While pregnant I couldn't get enough pregnant stories. But I'm not gonna lie I watched that shit before I was knocked up. My obsession just grew once I too had pea in my pod. Now my son is here but I'm just as obsessed. 

9) If you could commit a crime, and absolutely get away with it, what would you commit and why?
  I would most definitely rob a bank. So that I could be a SAHM and so I could not worry about providing my son financing to the college of his choice.

10) Do you and your mate have a "Hall Pass" list?
  Not so much a list as a deal. If the hubby can lose 100 lbs, he can discretely and with protection cheat. I don't want to know about it. But he'll have my permission to hide it from me for a few weeks. 

So now that you know a little more about me, why not learn a little more about my Theme Thursday pals. You can check out their Q&As by clicking the link below:

Monday, October 22, 2012

Lacing Up The Running Shoes

It's not always easy to get up early when the weather is cold and the bed and your dosing partner are so warm. So how does one get the motivation to jump crawl out of bed and lace up those running shoes? If you're in need of a little extra kick in the pants (also very motivating). Here's a short list of the things I think/listen to/do to get me out of bed and on the track.

1. Cardio, Cardio, Cardio. When the zombie apocalypse comes, I'll be ready to run! Only downer is whatever band of misfits we end up with, I'll have to do all the run into town missions and we all know not everyone comes back from those.

2. Ok Go, has a song I love. Television, Television it's called. I warn you this is totally shallow but the lyrics that pump me up are, "Look at the hottie in the tight jeans    Look at the pipe dreams    Look at the fat man burst at the seams". I want to be that hottie and not the fat man. (Maneater by Nelly  Furtado is also good) That means lots of miles. Because I love to eat and drink. Especially drink and there's no such thing as healthy drinking. Best I can do is diet drink with a shot of something.

3. My borrowed motto, "the strong get stronger". I feel weak all the time. But when I get through something. I hill, a series of hills, a pain, a disappointment, a health scare, labor and delivery, I know I'm strong. And the strong, get stronger. It's a motto I hope to pass onto Animal.

4. Get a running partner. Having a commitment to meet someone for your run guarantees you get ass out of bed. (unless your a sucky running partner) Also it's safer to run in pairs.

5. Lastly, I may not have the body I want right now. But no way is some stupid skinny bitch gonna out run me. I know it's lame and shallow. But sometimes lame and shallow things are the best motivators. I can only hope one day some twenty something year old sees me and thinks "look at that old lady, she's lapping me. If she can do it, so can I!"

Hope one, or more of these are helpful to you. Good luck and Happy Trails!

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Funny People

No, I'm not talking about the Adam Sandler movie. I'm just thinking about funny people in general. We all know some. I just happen to be surrounded by them.

It makes sense I guess because I have always loved to laugh. Since as far back as I can remember I have loved to laugh, the harder the better. As often as possible. I have a good sense of humor i think . I enjoy stand up comedy over almost any other type of entertainment. Even as a kid, I loved Sinbad and HBO's One Night Stand. I learned how to program a VCR as a kid so that I could watch SNL, One Night Stand re runs and One Night At The Apollo. I love funny movies, and writing. I basically only follow funny blogs.

My Siblings are funny, in a sarcastic witty way. My husband who I have been friends with since high school cracks me up. I fell in love with his laugh before I loved anything else about him. He has one of those laughs that comes straight from the gut and is so genuine that I find it infectious. I work with children, who are naturally funny and most of my friends are also funny.

I am not. Don't get me wrong, I have my moments i think , but there more in a "she's so honest/clumsy/ditsy" kind of way. When I started this blog I did it because I love to write and wanted the writing practice. And in order to have a think tank/commitment to do so I had to join a group of bloggers and well blog. I always secretly wanted one anyway. Plus I read so many blogs now and the Aries in me is just like, "if I write it they will read it".

But It's really intimidating for me, because I am not funny, and in this TT group there are some really funny bloggers. Some of whom I have been  following for a while and some I just discovered. But I am fast becoming a fan of. So where does that leave an unfunny person?

I contacted a friend of ours who is a college English professor (and really funny, go figure) and asked her how I too could become a funny writer. She advised me to "read lots of stuff you think is funny and it will rub off". I told her I have already been reading lots of funny things and it is NOT working. Then she said "who is the audience and how do you know you aren't funny?" So I told her, I have never been described as funny. No one ever says, "have you met my friend Running Mama, she's so funny" or anything to that nature. So I know.

"Aww. But real is often funny. Super honest. That's you." was her response. So I thanked her for not helping me  and then she said "Kids are naturally hilarious as is your husband. Report the truth! Just use a lot of direct quotes!" Finally some help. I thought this could work. I mentioned to my funny husband he may see me taking notes during our future interactions. He asked why. I told him about Funny teachers advice and he said "who's funny? me?" Which is what he always says when ever someone describes him as funny. Which happens all the time, which is how I know that funny people are described as such to their faces. And that's always his response, like it's the first time he's ever heard it, and so, it's a surprising remark. Sometimes funny people are annoying.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

This Halloween

I love Halloween. 

As I kid I loved it because of the costumes parades and class party (yippie to no class work), and of course the trick or treating, candy and haunted houses.

Later I loved the drinking at Halloween parties, horror movies, Halloween themed episodes of my favorite sitcoms and passing out candy to the kiddies. But I hated coming up with costume ideas, because I'm just not original. Then in walked the hubby and my Halloween costume creativity went up like a hundred points. I only had to come up with the idea and he did the rest. It was awesome.

Mostly I loved Halloween because it was the kick off to the holiday season. And I LOVE the holidays. I love everything about the holidays. Everything, the decorations, the cooking, the drinking, the over packed schedule, the shopping, the drinking, the Christmas card writing, holiday movies, trips to see family and old friends, and the drinking. 

This Halloween is different. Last Halloween having just given birth the week earlier the hubby and I were in a sleepless, loved filled daze for the entirety of the holiday season. We didn't even put up a tree. This year however is our chance to start our family traditions. A chance to share the fun with Animal. 

We thought long and hard about what he would be this Halloween. Yoda, Darth Vadar, a ninja, Keith Moon...then it hit us. It was obvious, Animal had to be, well, Animal from the Muppets. It was perfect. He'd been practicing his whole life. And he was perfect for the part.

We sent these photos to Animal's aunt.

Two weeks ago she came so Animal could have a fitting. The costume is amazing, a million times better than the one you can order from amazon. He even wore the head piece and let me take him next door to see our neighbor. I have high hopes now that he will wear his costume, and I can't explain the excitement I feel over the whole thing. 

What makes this Halloween different, better than any other is my son, and the warmth that washes over me when I think of the coming holiday season. Also this year, Halloween doesn't kick off the holiday fun. This year Animal's first birthday will be the beginning of my holidays. 

To read more about Halloween and what it conjures up for my fellow TT bloggers. Check out the link s below:

Who Woulda Thought

The Insomniac's Dream

One Classy Motha!

Mod Mom Beyond Indiedom

Mommy Rotten

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Crunchy Granola: Weaning Woes

As I mentioned in this post, I am not a crunchy granola mom. But as we live in a society that loves to label, some people think I am. Now don't get me wrong I am a tree hugging hippie for sure, but some people didn't notice cuz I don't go around lecturing people until I became a mommy.  And so crunchy granola and attachment parent soon became titles others might use to describe me crazy, over protective, wacko might be other words they use to describe me. Real crunchy granola moms, and proponents of attachment parenting would probably quickly shun me point out that I am not either of those things. 

For instance I don't use elimination communication, cloth diapers or even seventh generation diapers. Animal doesn't sleep in my bed but there were nights he did  in a co-sleeper but his crib was in our bedroom till 9 1/2 months. I DO use pedia care if I need to, and my son gets vaccinated. I also even dare use a stroller, sometimes. 

The thing I think that started this whole crunchy granola business was that I wanted to have the baby the old fashioned way, sans the drugs. And to be honest if my insurance would have ponied up I would have delivered my son at home. They wouldn't, so Hospital it was. 

We hired an awesome Doula and had a birth plan cue the mass rolling of eyes . Like I said I'm a hippie at heart and so is the Hubby. Also to quote him "Your the one having the baby, so whatever you want I'll support". Would I have beaten myself up if I got the drugs. NO WAY!  Do I think moms that choice that route are less tough? worse moms? NO WAY! Do I even give a shit what others do? NO WAY! Did I think that because I had a birth plan things were gonna magically align to give me the "perfect" experience of my dreams? NO WAY! But so it began that I was a certain kind of mom. 

When I was pregnant I also decided that I would like to Breastfeed my son, hopefully for the first year of his life. Cue second thing that put me in the crunch category. I am super fortunate to live in the bay area and know some women who work in and around the birthing community. So getting support, guidance, help was not a problem for me. It was even 100% FREE! And ongoing. I know that that is not the case all over the country. And I honestly belief that is the reason that a lot more women don't. Breastfeeding is hard and without a lot of help it can feel impossible. It is NOT like in the movies. And although I hoped for the pluses of BF like the baby weight just falling off, which has been total bullshit in my case for Animal, it wasn't a completely selfless act. Baby Formula is expensive shit! In one month my awesome expensive and needs a shit load of expensive accessories  pump paid for itself. A baby is super expensive, I wish a had a dope ass job that paid out the wazoo, but I don't. And being able to take formula out of the monthly budget I hoped would mean we could better afford the insurance. 

Then once we got the BF thing down, let's say around 12 weeks yeah that's how long it took, I loved it. And so I BFE for 6 months, cue thing number 4. My son was thriving and happy. But he stopped sleeping and started waking up A LOT. Cue number 5, The hubby and I could not handle CIO. 

Then 6, I started making him baby food. And buying organic. Hear me out. Again I'm a hippie at heart, who already shops at Whole Foods and someone gave me an awesome Baby Beaba Cook. Plus I don't buy everything organic,  just for sure the dirty dozen. And again it saves us money money I use to buy green sprouts dishes and cutlery. Lastly in this category I feed him tofu and other things people think are weird but it's food his daddy and I eat and we just want him to be included into family meals. I don't cook people so we're most certainly not having two separate meals cooked in this house. 

Finally number 7, and the thing I think really chops peoples hide is Animal doesn't watch t.v., does this mean we don't watch t.v.? or that I turn Animal away from or in other peoples homes? Of course not. Nor do I care if anyone else's kids watch television. Once he's two I'm all for 30 minute videos and netflix.  I was totally still am a couch potato. And I would really love if my son didn't follow in my foot steps for so many reasons. 

Like I'm not made of money, so I couldn't handle listening to non stop nagging for power ranger action figures or go gurt. When we go to the toy store I want Animal to go to the toys that strike his imagination, not the ones he's been drilled to demand. Also my kid just doesn't stop, if it's really true that t.v. exposure can up the chance of ADD, then I can't risk it. And limited screen time for him, means limited screen time for us. 

Anyway what got me thinking about all these things is that in just two weeks my baby is gonna be a toddler and pumping will be a thing of the past yay! Gin and tonic here I come! We've started the weaning process, but something unexpected is happening to me. I've decided to keep BF in the morning and at night until Animal self weans, or my milk supply disappears. And maybe for the first time ever I'm feeling a little Crunchy... 

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Dream Job

What's your dream job? This question reminds me of my elementary school days when I would be asked "what do you want to do when you grow up?" It reminds me of those days because as a child it was very likely that your answer would be based on your dreams. Before your filled with the bullshit other people want/expect/dream for you.

Since second grade I have had only one dream job.

I wanted to be an author. Ever since I can remember (I have a shitty memory so literally second grade is as far back as I can kind of remember) I wanted nothing more than to spend my life telling stories. I have written (in my childhood) the beginnings of several books. Including a choose your own adventure (I really liked those as a kid). I used to have collections of 3x5 cards with names of characters, each containing an outline of their home life, appearance and personalities. Those cards even included which of my made up characters were friends with each other and who were enemies. I would group my cards together by which characters were possible candidates for the different stories in my head. I was a strange kid.

I always made up stories. All kinds. For everyone and everything in my life. I would tell complete strangers these made up tales like they were my life. Adults seemed to find it endearing for the most part. Although one teacher did tell my parents I should see a psychologist. But my parents thought it was great. They were very supportive. My dad even liked to tell me stories about his strange and sad childhood, saying you can use that in one of your books. Some day I still hope to take some writing courses and work on this love of mine.

 My dream of being an author has altered very little. Only after reading Hunter S. Thompson was my dreamed altered, or enhanced if you will. I wished to be an author. Who made enough of a living to have a place to sleep, money for a little food, and A LOT of rum. 

Now that I'm a mommy and there for a role model, my dream has changed for the first time ever.

 I want to be an author, yes. A functioning alcoholic, yes (once Animal is a wonderful young man out on his own). But now, I want that dream job so I can make some money, and have the dream job I never wanted. I want to be a Stay At Home Mom.

 As hard as it is to be a parent, as much as I enjoying going to work, because even though I don't have my dream job, I happen to have a job I love. That I'm good at. That's rewarding. 

I hate missing out on my son's life. I hate not making enough to take a few years off so that I can do what really matters to me now. Like 99% of mommies I just want to do the best job possible. There are a lot of shitty moments in life and as a parent. So I don't want to miss any of the amazing ones. My son is 11 months old and like that God Damn baby detergent commercial likes to remind me, "you have a child for a lifetime, but a baby only a year." And that year is almost up, and I've missed more of it than I would have liked. 

This post is part of Theme Thursday. Each Thursday, multiple bloggers will offer different perspectives on the same topic. Read more at the following blogs:

Something Clever 2.0
Aspiring to the Middle
Cloudy With a Chance of Wine
Mod Mom Beyond IndieDom
Mommy Rotten
I Like Beer and Babies
The Next Step
A Calibama State of Mind
Shit I Don't Tell Most People
Who Woulda Thought?
The Insomniac's Dream 

Saturday, October 6, 2012


Like most people I can't seem to live without my phone. I'm absolutely panicked if I miss place it for any given amount of time. God forbid I leave the house without it or a room in my home for that matter. It's become as important to me as my right hand while literally attached to said hand. I have both come to love and hate this modern day gadget with whom I could not imagine doing without.

How do I love thee...Let me count the ways:

1. I love the online capabilities. While pregnant I researched everything baby/pregnancy/labor and delivery thing my little heart fancied. Now I keep up with all my favorite blogs, shop amazon, check/write emails. And Google every freaking thing that I ever wonder about.

2. The Apps! I do everything from track my runs to my period. No joke, I use my phone to know when it's time to hit CVS for some tampons (a girl needs to be prepared). Among my favorites are Google books (used that one to purchase best sleep training book ever, Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child and read it at any free moment) Amazon, Weekly Ads, Pandora and the one I absolutely could not do without google maps/navigation. Granted occasionally it sends me to completely wrong location (but I would have gotten lost without it anyway) but at least I could use map to find my way to the right spot. Luckily I DO know how to read a map.

3.  And of course for the teenage girl inside of me and the multi-tasking adult. I love that I have a phone to take care of business shoot the shit with friends at any time. Car broke down? No need to walk to a pay phone what's that? just call a tow truck and the shop your gonna tow it to. Some stupid Beezee did something ridiculously funny in front of you call your hubby and share. Baby did / the cutest thing ever! Call everyone. Everyone that will pretend to give a shit that is.

4. Texting. It's like passing notes in high school.

5. Camera/Video. I never have to miss a kodak moment when I always have my phone. I can share in at least ten ways and I can relive favorite moments any time. Like when I'm having a super shitty day. I can open up albums and scroll through shots of Animal eating peas and have an instant pick me up.

How do I hate thee....Let me count the ways

1. Auto fucking correct! I think and type fast. But the fucking auto correct is constantly changing my words. Even when I'm careful to press each letter individually it still fucking decides I must of meant racist instead of easiest! WTF that doesn't even make sense, but it fucking happened to me earlier this week. And it happens all the time when I'm answering emails or commenting on my favorite blogs. If I forget to proof read before I hit send or publish God only knows what non sense Auto correct decides I mean. I sound like a complete moron half the time ok three quarters of the time, i hate to proof read.

2. Texting. Sometimes I read something and add hostility that isn't there to a message. I get all worked up answer something equally hostile (I think) and before I know it, I'm fighting with the hubby or a friend.

3. The ridiculously high price of a phone. I could buy a laptop for the price of my phone and it would cost less per month to operate. Also if I break my phone, even though I pay for stupid insurance it costs what I think is an absurd amount of money for my company to send me a fucking refurbished phone! That will break and have to be replaced through no fault of my own leaving me with no phone how can I live without my right hand  for 2-3 days. It's a lose lose.

4. Lastly, I hate how dependent I am on a little electronic gadget that is probably giving me brain cancer. I'm embarrassed by how silly I can be with my phone. Um maybe I have found my new years resolution early. Sometimes, just sometimes step away from the phone at least keep it in my purse like a same person. .

Friday, October 5, 2012


10:39 that was my pace per mile yesterday.

I can't tell you how happy I am about that. Or how strange the pride I feel about that pace is to me. 

Once upon a time... just two years ago. I would have never shared that information. I certainly wouldn't have felt pride over it.

For years I dreamed of being a runner. I worked my way from barely and I mean a paramedic ride away  finishing a mile. To running 6-10 miles on a Sunday morning for fun (before you get all stabby on my seemingly gloaty ass). It took years (like 7 or 8) of me running every other morning, being humiliated as I was lapped by senior citizens (not an exaggeration), not drinking any alcohol (biggest sacrifice EVER) and of giving up and starting over. Always just a little better than the time before.

I got better and faster. Eventually running an avg. of 8:08 min per mile pace. I set a goal of running my first half marathon at this pace (no 5k or 10ks for me), but I had only ever run seven miles at a time. A trainer I met at the track told me that I could run the 13.1 miles no problem, if I just slowed my pace. Say 10 min per mile. Did I sign up that day? You may wonder.

HELL NO! I can be a tad competitive. I had to smoke as many skinny bitches and more importantly stupid guys that think because I'm a girl, I can't be a competitor, as possible. So I decided that I would wait another year.

Then I got injured.

It hurt just to walk.

I was afraid to run.

But something had happened to me over the years. I wasn't just running to lose weight, or to prove to myself I could be one of those girls I had always envied. I had grown to LOVE running. I missed it fiercely.My body and heart ached to be on the track, but my mind said "One step and the pain will shoot through your body and you'll KNOW your worst fear (you'll never run again) has come true". I couldn't handle that possibility, so I didn't even try.

Born To Run hit the book stands and I devoured it. By the end Scott Jurek's mantra "the strong get stronger"   became my own. I knew I could do it. And I did. When the local 1/2 was 3 months away I was only running 3 miles at time. I signed up anyway. I finished the race 2:13:43. For those of you not gifted in math, it was not the time I wanted. But it didn't matter I had finished the race. I ran every step. It was amazing. I was more hooked than ever.

A few short months later I was just 12 seconds shy of getting my avg back and running 6-10 miles at a time because I felt like it. Because I could. Because it felt great.

Then it happened.

I got knocked up.

I ran till week 30. Cried when the gun when off on race day last year and I wasn't among the runners. I was excited for this year though. I just knew I would be back pounding the asphalt as I waved to my son who would be watching with daddy from the sidelines.

Fast Foward to 9 1/2 months later, and my son was waking up more than a new born. I had never been more exhausted in my life. I had probably run 10 miles since his birth and looked it. Worse I felt it.

Finally we buckled down and did the sleep training thing. I've been running again for 6 weeks. I'm up to 3.19 miles at 10:39! Four miles is just around the corner. Then five. Once you hit five (it has been my experience) you can run any distance you want. And the speed will come with practice.

And 10:39 is gonna get me there.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012


As the mom of an 11 month old, the local playground is a place we've been. But not a place we frequent. For one thing there just isn't a lot of equipment my little guy can use. More importantly though, it's a place that causes me some social anxiety. As a fairly confident, happy and friendly woman this is a feeling I'm not used too, and it kind of bothers me. I don't like to admit that I am insecure. So we don't go to the park very often.

I know that soon he'll be walking, talking and demanding that I face my fears take him to the park. I wont be able to avoid it for much longer. Don't get me wrong, I actually love playgrounds. I'm usually looking for any excuse to go down the slide, swing and especially climb. When Animal can finally really explore and play at the playground I'll truly and honestly enjoy playing with him there. And I really really want him to make friends his own age. But isn't that what preschool is for?

My problem is socializing. Not just me, my son is strong and physical. I'm afraid he'll be too aggressive. He only seems to take aim at his daddy and I. But that's how I know it hurts, and while I'll discipline him in an age appropriate manner. I don't think that will make the other child or parent feel better.

If my fear is unfounded (he hasn't hurt other children the few times he's been around them) then there's the milestone conversations. As a first time mom I find myself especially sensitive to this topic. I think Animal is doing great. He is a super healthy, happy guy. And my biggest source of joy. But he didn't get his first tooth until he was nearly 6 months old, or start solids until he was 6 months old. He didn't start crawling until 7 months. He didn't start sleeping through the night until nearly 10 month. He's not walking or talking. I'm not worried about his development, but it's taken me 10 months to feel this way. I see progress in every area and he's completely within the scope of "normal" development. Talking to other moms about these milestones brings up old new  insecurities. I just don't like it.

Lastly, since becoming pregnant I have run into some labels I had previously been blissfully unaware of. Attachment Parenting and Crunchy Granola. I'm not going to go into what those labels mean. The weird thing is, I would never describe myself that way and the people that do would not consider me one of them  because those labels don't (really) fit me or my family. I make my decisions based on what feels right to me. I assume others do as well. Being a mom feels like a catch 22, with someone always disapproving.

The playground is just a place I'd rather not deal with yet. Time is ticking, I wont be able to avoid this source of anxiety much longer. But since Animal likes to take his time, I should have a few more months to get a grip.