28 Days Later...

So today marks day 28 of no alcohol whatsoever. I'm very proud of myself, and I'm even more proud of Steve, who did this challenge with me.

I have to say that, for me at least, it was fairly easy. Having had two children in fairly quick succession, going without alcohol is something I know well. The only time I really miss it at all is on the weekend. And not just because I like to drink, but because I feel like I should drink on the weekends. In my mind in't like "Hey! We made it through another week, let's celebrate! Pass me another beer honey!" But that's just an excuse. Waking up on a Saturday isn't a reason to celebrate. Not with beer, at least.

What it all boils down to is this: I'm glad that I went the month without alcohol, and I will likely continue to not drink alcohol. I don't like the waste of money, I don't like the inevitable morning after headache that comes from getting older and losing the 'party animal' gusto, and I certainly don't like the mass of calories that come along with it all. I have lofty weight loss goals this year, and I work too damn hard during the week just to throw it (progress) all away on the weekends. I lost 7 lbs in the last 28 days, and not spending the weekends chugging beers was a big part of that.

Tomorrow starts the March 2011 Challenge, which is no bread and no pasta (excluding the noodles in Progresso canned soups). I love bread. I have always loved bread, and I will always love bread. I am hoping that a month without it will help take my weight loss to the next level, as well as give me a greater sense of appreciation and moderation for all things bread and pasta. No sandwhiches, no toast with jam, no spaghetti, no mac & cheese... *sigh* I think March might actually be the death of me.

Screams in the Night

So apparently Maron havs entered into a new and fantastically horrible part of childhood - Night Terrors.

I was awoken from a dead sleep at 2:45 am by the wailing screams of my eldest daughter. A similar event happened during an afternoon nap recently, which prompted me to ask the pediatrician at her 2 1/2 year checkup if kids this age have bad dreams. The answer was a great big fat YES.

So Maron woke up screaming in the middle of the night. I went in to comfort her, but I did not take her out of her crib. For the last 2 1/2 years we have never taken her out of her crib in the middle of the night, so as not to start a habit that would be hard to stop. I don't know if I'll be able to keep to that if night terrors become a regular occurence for Maron. I want to try though, because Maron has been marvelously independant when it comes to sleeping at night, and I'd love to keep it that way.
(And I'm not a bad mother, so stop looking at me like that. I soothed her and left her room and she screamed for maybe 10 more minutes before she went back to sleep).
I think my first course of action is to get some sort of night light for her room. A bit of a challenge, since all available outlets are behind/below furniture. But I'll find something. And hopefully if she does wake up in the middle of the night, being able to see her surroundings will help her to not be so upset.

A girl can dream...

It's time for a new segment in this blog. It's called 'In A Perfect World'. It's where all the dreams and fantasies of life grow wings and take flight, if only as typed words on a computer screen. Here goes today's dream...

In a perfect world, babies and toddlers would be just like alarm clocks. You could set what time you wanted them to wake you up in the morning. That way there would be no surprises. Is the baby going to wake up at 7:00 or sleep in until 8:30 this morning? Will I be able to get my whole workout in wothout having to pause the dvd and go turn her over and put her binky back in her mouth so she'll go back to sleep? Do I have time for a long shower or should I save the leg shaving for tomorrow? With a set wake up time, all of these questions would be obsolete.

They would also have snooze buttons. Because, it's not that you don't want to hold your child and comfort them when they are upset, it's just that you can't right this minute. You need to get your screaming toddler out of the kid's museum and up the hill to your car while the baby is strapped to your chest? No problem! Just hit the snooze button and they immediately go unconscious and in those 9 scream-free minutes you can get them to the car, buckled in their carseat and be making tracks for home by the time the screaming goes off again.

And what about when you're sick, or didn't sleep at all the night before and desperately need a nap today? What about that project for your grandmother's 85th birthday you have to get finished this afternoon? Let me introduce you to the best feature of all - the off switch! That's right. Flu got you down? Screaming two year old bouncing off the walls and making your eye twitch? Has your baby decided that naps are something that happen to other children? Just flip the switch from ON to OFF, and voila! You have all the time you need to sleep off that cold, finish the last book in the Dark Tower series, or just not murder your child. The handy-dandy OFF switch allows you to take the time you desperately need but your kids can't/won't give you. And when you turn them back on again their moods have been reset to HAPPY.

Yes, in a perfect world, kids would be just like alarm clocks.

The Doctor is IN

Yesterday we took both girls to the doctor. Marida had her 9 month checkup and Maron had her 30 month checkup. Steve was good enough to take the day off so that he could accompany us, and I am SO thankful he did. I don't know what I would have done otherwise.

Marida's checkup went fine. She was calm and pleasant as the pediatrician (Dr. Bronold, for future reference) examined her. She weighed in at 18 lbs 5 oz and measured 28 inches long. Marida is still sick from (what I thought was) the cold she and Maron had last week, and as Dr. Bronold listened to her lungs she informed us that Marida actually has bronchiolitis, as we as what is possibly an ear infection in her left ear. There's nothing to prescribe fr bronchiolitis, it should just clear up on its onw in another week or two. I need to keep a close eye on in case she gets a fever or starts vomiting, but she should be okay. The doctor did however request to see Marida again in a month to check on her ear and give her the 2nd flu shot they couldn't give her yesterday.

Maron's checkup was much more of a struggle. She has had a horrible fear/hatred of the doctor's office since she was 18 months old. Each time we go there I hope it will be at least a little bit better, but no dice. Maron weighed in at 27 lbs and, as she would not stand still long enough to accurately measure her height, they recycled her height from last time, which was 34 1/2 inches. Maron is healthy and developing normally, drastic turn for the cranky and fussy included. Dr. Bronold suggested we get Maron a docotr play kit to help her get past her fear of all things relating to an exam room. I bought one for her yesterday and we spent the evening helping sick patients feel better, including Daddy, Tigger, Eeyore, Mommy and Stitches the sock monkey. By the time we put Dr. Maron to bed she refused to be seperated from her medical kit. And when I said good night to her she replied, "Good night Dr. Mommy."

Another day, another pool of sweat...

Tthis morning I did the double workout that I've been dreading for days: Pure Cardio and Cardio Abs. I want to tell you that I rocked them both. I want to give off an air of non-chalance as I say I breezed through Pure Cardio, hardly breaking a sweat, and then went on to Cardio Abs with the greatest of ease. But this isn't Bizzaro World, and I don't fancy myself a liar. So instead I'll tell you the truth.

Pure Cardio kicked my ass, as it always kicked my ass. As I get stronger I go faster, and so each workout is like the first workout, which is what Insanity is all about. Once again I found myself on my hands and knees at the end of Pure Cardio, gasping for air and blinking sweat out of my eyes. Only this time instead of going into the cool down stretches I went straight on to Cardio Abs. It went about as well as it did the first time. I was more tired beginning it than I was last Saturday (since I omitted Pure Cardio that day), but I tried a little harder. The things I wasn't able to do on Saturday I still wasn't able to do today, but at least I gave a little more effort into the not being able to do it. :-) Tomorrow is Cardio Recovery, which will be welcome after the workout I did this morning (even though it will still run me to pieces, since all the workouts do).

I am finding out about more and more people who are reading this blog, and a lot of them are particularily interested in the posts regarding my weight loss journey. A lot of people are on the same journey themselves. A few days ago one of my friends on Facebook (someone I've known since Bemiss Elementary School) sent me a message to let me know that my blog posts and Facebook comments have been motivating her to keep to her weight loss plan and keep trying to reach her goals. That message meant the world to me. In the last few years when I've dieted and worked to lose weight I have been the one looking for motivation. I have always been the one trying to find the will to go on and not give up. I've struggled so much to stay on course in the past and always ended up losing my way or just giving up. But not this time. Not this year. This is my year, and it's on like Donky Kong. And the fact that I can be a point of inspiration and/or motivation for even one other human being on the planet is everything.

Getting Better...

This morning was the start of week 3 of Insanity, and it began with the Fit Test. This is the series of exercises (done every 2 weeks) to use as your yardstick in measuring your progress. During the first Fit Test I marked down how many reps of each exercise I could do in one minute, and subsequent Fit Tests should show those numbers going up. I am pleased to say that they have. Here is the list of exercises, what I did on day 1 of the first week and how I did today. Prepare to be amazed!

EXERCISE DAY 1 TODAY
Switch Kicks 55 60
Power Jacks 34 45
Power Knees 55 66
Power Jumps 15 20
Globe Jumps 4 6
Suicide Jumps 7 9
Push-Up Jacks 9 17
Low Plank Obliques 36 43

Now before you go handing out congratulations all over the place, be aware that my improvement # is lower than the beginning # of the people on the Fit Test dvd. Of course, one of the people on there is nicknamed The Machine... so, okay, you can congratulate me a little bit. :-)

I am SO proud of myself for not only committing to this program but sticking with it. Before I started this I was afraid I would get half way though the first week and the FGIMH (fat girl in my head) would knock me down and convince me it was too hard for us and that I needed to quit. But oddly enough, I have barely heard a peep out of her. We both felt so strangely good after the workout on the first day that she sat back and (other than some protests regarding our knees) kept quiet. I was actually shocked to hear the FGIMH this morning. Not because she was still there, but because she piped up for the sole purpose of cheering me on. Going through the reps this morning it wasn't just Shaun T telling me to dig deeper, it was the FGIMH too. And then when I got on the scale after my shower this morning to find myself down 2 more lbs, the FGIMH told me I was doing awesome, that I CAN do this, and that I AM doing this.

How's that for a slice of fried gold?

Revelation

This afternoon I had a shocking realization about my mother. While sitting here at the computer desk with Maron at my elbow saying, "No! [gibberish gibberish gibberish] no [gibberish gibberish] No!" it hit me - my mother is no mere mother at all. My whole life she's been playing the part of a down to earth, good natured mom to all, when in reality she is a magical, evil GYPSY WOMAN!!!

I remember so many times in my youth when I was standing at MY mother's elbow going, "No! [angry rant back talk sassafrass] No!" And always my mother would turn her head to me, give me a steely-eyes glare and say, "You know Micah, some day you're going to have a daughter and she's going to turn out JUST LIKE YOU!" This wasn't just a threat or a warning, it was a CURSE! My gypsy mother cursed me and I didn't even realize it until today!! Now I'm sitting here trying to remember what other black magic gypsy curses she might have put on my when I was young... things I took as idle threats that will come to fruition now that I have children of my own. Aaarrgh!!

So this morning I got up for day 6 of my second week of Insanity. In today's agenda was not one, but TWO workouts. Pure Cardio (eek!) and Cardio Abs (which I haven't done before). Seeing as the 40 minutes of Pure Cardio always leave me a quivering mass of jelly, I truly felt I would not be able to do the Cardio Abs. So I decided to do just one workout today, and I went with Cardio Abs. My stomach is where I have the most fat and it's where I would like to be the most tone. I felt like I was punking out a little bit, but then I thought about the fact that I am up at 6:00 for the 6th day in a row, for the second WEEK in a row... and I didn't feel like that much of a punk. As Steve pointed out to me this morning, the fact that I am up and working out at all makes me not a punk. So there.

When the dvd first started up and I saw it was only 16 minutes long I was stoked. Then I started the workout and learned fast that 16 minutes is all you need to break a sweat and give your muscles a hardcore workout when you're doing the right stuff. I was mostly able to keep up with Shaun T and the gang, but there was one thing I couldn't do. One exercise was to sit back into a C position, put your palms on the floor in front of your obliques (so the only thing supporting you is your core), and then tuck both knees into your chest, straighten them back out and then lift them both straight up. The combination of my lack of core muscle and large mass of belly fat made me unable to do either thing effectively. I can do it if I'm laying flat on the floor, but not sitting in the C position. Not yet.

There is one thing that has changed since I've started this program; When Shaun T says to "keep your core tight" during the workouts, which he does constantly, that actually means something to me now. A few weeks ago I did not have enough stomach muscle to suck it in, but now I do. I can't keep my core tight as long as I need to for a lot of this stuff, but it's getting better.

Today's workout (Pure Cardio & Cardio Abs) is coming back around on Wednesday of next week. My goal is to do both, even if I am only able to do the floor exercises by the time Cardio Abs come around. Every day that I do this I get stronger, and by the time this thing is over I'm going to be able to C sit and tuck both knees in like a mo-fo.

Pity Party, Table for 1...

Friday has come at last. The end to the longest week I've had thus far this year.
Maron woke up last Friday with a wee bit of a chest cough. I thought, "Uh-oh, this is bad. Then again, maybe a cough is all it is and Maron will hack something up and be done with it. Aaannd maybe monkeys will fly out of my arse." Sure enough, Saturday morning she had a low fever and a mightily runny nose to go along with what had become a wracking chest cough. Outstanding.

So then Maron was sick and Marida was not. I thought, ever so briefly, that I could keep the two children apart and thus negate the transferance of germs. But who was I kidding? Trying to keep two young siblings apart is like trying to keep hair out of the shower drain. Even if I could keep Maron in one spot for the duration of her illness, Marida is so enamored with her big sister that she'd follow her to the ends of the earth. So by Sunday Marida was sick. No fever, but a cough that rattles the windows and more snot than you could shake a stick at. You know how they say there's nothing sadder than a sad clown? WRONG! There is NOTHING sadder than a 9 month old trying like hell to cough up her cruddy little lungs. Outstanding.

Now you would think that caring for two sick children is twice as bad as caring for one, but when both children are small, one doesn't talk and the other doesn't know the words to describe how yucky she feels... Well, it's not twice as bad. It's more like five times as bad. Especially since they are not sick at the same level. While Maron was getting worse Marida was staying the same, and now that Maron is getting better Marida is getting worse. And all the while I am trying like hell to keep from getting sick myself. Ask me how successful I've been. Yeah, not so much. I've felt like ass for the past two days. Only I'm not sick in the 'wracking chest cough and snotty nose' kind of way (which would be a welcome relief right now). I'm sick in the 'stuffy, sinus-headache and plugged up ear effing with my equilibreum and making me likely to fall down the satirs' kind of way. Outstanding

So here I am on Friday afternoon. I feel like crap, my children feel like crap, and there is a laundry list of things that need to be done this weekend, including a shopping trip to Costco tomorrow (which I'll be doing without Steve's help since he has to go to work) and a birthday party on Sunday (which we will not be able to attend unless both children make a magical recovery by tomorrow evening). When I became a mother I accepted the whole 'full time job, no pay, no sick days, no vacation' thing. And I'm good with that the majority of the time. But it's during weeks like this one that I wish I could take a break from my job. Not a lengthy sabbatical or anything like that. Just a day or two where I have no responsibility. No children to care for, no chores, no to-do lists. A weekend like the kind I used to have, before I got married and had children and became a responsible adult. I know there's no point in wishing for that. And I know there's no point in whining either. But right now whining is all I've got, so... yeah. *sigh*

So I know I'm about 13 years too late to be bitching about this, but I got a late start.
I have just finished watching the first season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on Netflix. I have never seen any of the show before and Netflix now streams it.

Now, don't get me wrong; I am all about the willing suspension of disbelief. I can totally did the concept of a teenage girl being an almighty vampire slayer, just as I can totally dig the concept of vampires in and of themselves. But what I cannot wrap my mind around, try as I might, is the fact that Sunnydale High School is still open. 10 people and a pig have died there, and it's only the end of the first season. Who are they trying to kid? Think about the high school you went to... How many dead bodies do you suppose could be discovered either in the school or on the grounds (in one semester, I might add) before the school was closed down? Two, maybe three? Four at the outside. And who the hell are these parents who let their teenagers continuing going to a school where the principal was eaten in his own office? I mean, I know Sunnydale is sitting on the Hell Mouth and all, but come on!

This morning I completed the workout for day 2 of my second week of Insanity. Today’s disc was Pure Cardio (ugh!), and I was determined to push myself harder than I did on day 5 of last week when I did this workout the first time. And something amazing happened – I actually worked harder. I was doing the exercises faster and for longer intervals than I have been, and at one point during the warm-up I actually got a stitch in my side. Now, I know what you’re going to say, “But Micah, you’re so out of shape that it probably doesn’t take much work to give you a stitch in the side.” True. But what you have to understand is that I am SO out of shape that, before I can even reach the point where I’m working hard enough to get a stitch in my side, I usually have to stop and breathe and try to get my legs to stop shaking.

The motto of Insanity is “Earn It”, and I have been. This is me five minutes after my workout this morning:



That is how I look every morning after my workout. And I am damn proud to look like that! It means that I have pushed myself, and it means that I am one workout closer to my goal. Yesterday morning I got on the scale for the Monday morning weigh-in and I was down 3 lbs from last week. That gives me a total of 15 lbs lost in the last 6 weeks. I don't know about you, but I think that's kind of a big deal.

So today was good. So was yesterday. In fact, every day that I get up and workout on this program is good. I am feeling stronger now than I have in years, and I am only just beginning to get the dust off my muscles. And I feel better about myself. I feel like this really is my year to acheive my goals and that nothing is going to stand in my way this time. I still have a long way to go - 35 lbs to be exact. And it's going to be hard, just like losing the first 15 has been. But at least now I feel like it's okay that it's hard. It's like my dad once said to me: Some things should be hard, because meaningful change takes time. I really understand that now, and I accept it. Because the harder I work now to get to where I want to be, the more I will appreciate it once I'm there.

It's Monday morning, and it's the start of a new week after a very looong weekend. My poor little Fidget is sick! She woke up Friday morning with a bit of a chest cough, but was otherwise in good spirits. Saturday morning I knew as soon as I got her up that she was worse. She was still happy, but when she tried to say "I love you Mommy" and it came out "I luboo bomby" I knew. By Saturday afternoon she had a low fever and her good mood had vanished. And yesterday she was a little bit worse. Whereas I only had to use the bulb syringe to suck snot out of Maron's nose once on Saturday I had to do it multiple times yesterday afternoon and evening.
Marida has been a trooper through this. She woke up yesterday with the same racking chest cough Maron had on Friday. So I was sure Marida would be a ball of snot when I got her up this morning, but so far it's still just the cough. We'll see how long she can hold out.

It's so hard seeing my children sick. There is no point in my life where I feel more helpless and ineffectual as a parent as I do when Maron has a cold. She doesn't feel good and she doesn't understand why, and there is nothing I can do for her other than give her children's Tylenol for the fever and suck snot out of her nose (which I have to bodily restrain her to do because she doesn't understand that either). It's so frustrating and ironic that something as simple as a cold, which most adults barely think twice about, can emotionally cripple you as a mom to young children and babies.

Insanity

In my efforts to lose weight and become happy with my body by my 30th birthday this September, I have started a new exercise program. More precisely, 4 days ago I started an exercise program. It's a 10 dvd program I borrowed from a pregnant friend who won't be needing it for a while. It's called Insanity, and it's just that - insanity!

It's a hardcore cardio exercise program based on max interval training. Here is the sales pitch from the official website:

ARE YOU READY TO DIG DEEP?

Then you might just complete the hardest workout program ever put on DVD. Your personal trainer Shaun T will push you past your limits with 10 workout discs packed with plyometric drills on top of nonstop intervals of strength, power, resistance, and ab and core training moves. No equipment or weights needed. Just the will to get the hardest body you've ever had.

Now, I'm not trying to get a ripped, hard body. I'm just trying to lose 40 more pounds and get rid of the post-baby fat pooch I've got going on in front these days. Would I love more toned arms and a tighter tush? You bet! But it's not the focus. Also, I'm not in as good of shape as most of the people in the before and after pictures you'll see on the website. I have more weight on me than most people who start this. I also don't have very good knees, and there is a lot of jumping involved in this. Fortunately the whole premise of this thing is for you to do your best. Whether you can do 4 reps or 40 of any particular exercise doesn't matter. What matters is that you push yourself each and every time. And if you keep up with the program you will see improvements over time. Make no mistake though, this is hard. I have only done 4 days so far and it's been the hardest 4 days of my life. Seriously - I have never worked this hard in my life.

When I first got the dvd's from my friend I didn't realize how intense of a program this is supposed to be. There is a workout calendar that comes along with the dvd's and it has a different workout scheduled each day, 6 days a week. 6 DAYS A WEEK!!! ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME?!? I told myself that I was just going to workout 3 days a week and pick whatever damn dvd I wanted to. I did decide to start with the first disc the schedule recommends, which is the Fit Test. It's basically a yardstick with which to measure your progress. You're supposed to write down how many reps you do of a bunch of different stuff your first time, and then do it every 2 weeks afterward. The idea is that your number of reps should go up each time, making your best even better.

So this past Saturday (let's call it Day 1) I got up at 6:00 in the morning and did the Fit Test. And it kicked my ass. I mean it just wiped the floor with me. By the end of it I was out of breath, sweating from head to toe and my legs were trembling. And they continued to tremble for the next hour. Now here's the funny thing: After my workout, with trembling legs, I shakily made my way upstairs to take a shower and wash the stink of out-of-shape patheticness off of me. As I was doing so I started to think about how hard I had just worked; how I've never strained myself that physically in all of my life. And then I started to feel proud of how hard I had just worked. I started to feel like I had really made an effort to change myself for the better. And then I realized that I was worth it. Where nothing and no one has ever been worth that kind of physical exertion, I realized that I am. I am worth it to me.

So along comes 5:45 Sunday morning, and I decide to get up and workout again, doing the dvd marked down for Day 2. I was even more pathetic than I had been the day before. Only this time I had the added bonus of starting with leg muscles that were increadibly sore from doing jumps and squats and lunges on Saturday. But once again, after the workout was over and I was drenched with sweat, I was feeling proud of myself for having done it. That's when I decided that I was going to do as many days of it in a row that I could, thinking that if I managed 4 days in a week I'd be doing good. Day 3 found me up and at it again, thinking afterward that maybe, just maybe, I can actually do this thing. Day 4 (today) was easier. Today's dvd was called Cardio Recovery - imagine my relief at that! Now imagine my chagrin to look at the calendar for tomorrow to see Pure Cardio waiting for me. I watched the Pure Cardio dvd this afternoon and I'm not going to lie to you, I'm scared. They worked SO HARD and SO FAST on there! When the whole thing was over Shaun T couldn't even get off the floor right away. If they guy who created this program got his ass whipped by his own workout, what chance does that leave me? And just when that little fat girl voice popped into my head telling me that 4 days is enough this week, I made my resolve. I told that fat girl to shut her freakin pie hole, pull up her big kid underoos and deal with the fact that I am going to DO THIS! I am going to do this program properly. 60 days, start to finish. No whining, no excuses. After all, I've already done Day 4; 2 more days and I'll be done with the first week!

So here it is world! I am throwing down the gauntlet at my own feet. I am committing myself to the 60 day Insanity program. Because I want to lose weight, because I want to become more fit, and because the thought of doing 60 days of this scares the bejeezus out of me. And you should always do something that scares you. Stay tuned.

Big news for Marida fans out there - yesterday morning Marida started crawling! She was on the rug in the living room. Georgi and I were in there chatting and Marida kept getting onto her knees and looking like she was going to crawl. I've been seeing that for a while now, but Georgi was all aglow about the possibility. So I said, "Let's try this" and set the remote control for the DVD player on the floor a few feet away from her. Because, to babies and toddlers alike, remotes are like the forbidden fruit. (Case in point, immediately after I set the remote on the ground Maron came streaming into the living room trying to pick it up. ) Marida saw the remote, got The Gleam in her eye, and just went for it.


So now Marida can crawl as well as sit up all by herself (which she did for the first time on Feb 1). I'm so proud of my little monkey!! I'm also terrified and paranoid when I think of all the shenanigans she's going to be able to get into now, but that's my problem, not hers.

Cleaning out my closet...

A couple of nights ago I was going through the closets ferreting out old, unworn clothes to go into the Goodwill box. There are 9 closets in this house, and somehow every one of them is stuffed to capacity. I found a few shirts in Steve's closet, a shirt from mine and some of the more worn baby clothes. After the closets I decided to go through the clothing tote. It's a flat tote under the bed that has the clothes that Steve and I don't fit (but hope to some day) or don't wear (but can't bear to throw away).

It occured to me, as I was rifling through a mass of spaghetti strap tank tops, that so many of the articles of clothing I have held onto over the years I have done so not because of what they are, but because of what they meant to me. Not what they mean, but what they meant. What they meant to me at the times that I got them and in the heyday of their wear. I realized that so many of the pieces of clothes I own I've been dragging around for years because they were reminders of the person(s) I used to be. The shirts I bought at concerts... the black lace overshirt I wore clubbing back in my partying days... the sweatshirt I wore while sitting on a guy's shoulders at night at a Bumbershoot show... the short shorts I wore when I was thin because they made my ass look great... So many pieces of clothing, so many meanings. But none of them are relevant to who I am now.

I have plans and hopes for losing weight, but I've had two kids, dammit! As hard as I try I'm just never going to fit into those short shorts ever again. And even if I did it's not as though I'll ever wear them. It's not cool to dress trampy when you are out and about with small children, I don't care who you are. And speaking of being out with the kids, is it ever going to be okay for me to wear a shirt with the name Nashville Pussy on the front in large, gothic type? Of course not! So why the hell have I been holding onto this shit for the last decade?!

I'm sure somewhere in my mind I was hoping to eventually be able to carve out stolen moments that would make me feel like a wild, carefree youth again instead of a wife and mother. But to what point and purpose? I am a wife, and I am a mother. And I'm happy! There are so many people in the world who spend so much time and energy trying to hold on to the person that they were that don't have the ability to enjoy the person that they are. And how can you possibly be happy now when all you do is think about how happy you were then? It's like what Dr. Seuss wrote: "Today is gone, today was fun. Tomorrow is another one." Will tomorrow be the same as today? Probably not. Will it be the same as yesterday, and all the yesterday's before? Definately not. But chances are, if you let it, it'll be better.