Scooby Doo-We Sure Miss You!

One of the things we always looked forward to was buying our own home so that we would be able to finally get a puppy. In 2001, we achieved both. We disagreed about how and what type of dog we would get. I was perfectly ok purchasing a purebred dog or paying an adoption fee (ahem..snob!). My hubby was hell-bent on getting a free dog. He always told me that there were plenty of free doggies out there and if we are patient, we will find The One. I reminded him that people don’t give away puppies in front of the grocery store anymore…he disagreed.

Back then, we would take frequent trips to the shelter (or as Rich says, ‘The poor man's zoo’) to view doggies. There were a few reasons for this: First, how would our then, one-year-old daughter react to them? Second, it was a cheap and fun way to kill time and play with pups. And last, maybe we would find a dog in need who would just call out to us. Rich was open to adoption, but each time we left the shelter, he would remind me that we were destined to get a free doggie.

We had been visiting shelters for about nine months when we heard about a puppy store that had confiscated dozens of purebred pups because they were sick with Parvo. This would be a win-win for us. Rescue a free purebred! YAY! We had heard that this was the weekend they were letting people adopt these expensive dogs. We happily drove out to the Sacramento SPCA….but within moments, we found out that we had picked the wrong weekend. I was pretty upset—but what could I do? COMPLAIN! And that, I did.

As we walked back to the car, me bitching the entire time, we noticed a woman in a van parked near us. She had overheard me ranting about not being able to adopt and how we drove 45 minutes for nothing. Her voice is still clear in my head:

“You all looking for a puppy? I have some here, and the shelter won’t take em'.'”

She seemed like a meth case and I almost—ALMOST—declined. But being polite, and seeing about 4 black lab puppies jumping in the box, we were compelled to at least look.

The pups were cute. They were about 12 weeks old, very hyper and undernourished. She told us that the shelter wouldn't take them because they were full and she didn't have “any money to feed em’.” Lovely.

I was sad for the pups, but they just didn't feel right. I politely told her “No thanks, we were looking for something a little younger and calmer…” as if any puppy was “calm.”

The lady then looked at her teenage daughter and said “show her the brown one!” We didn't see a brown dog. But the daughter reached into the box and pulled up a brown puppy. He was completely limp and calm. He had bright green eyes, and looked into ours. We were lovesick. I asked to hold him, and she obliged. I looked at my husband who was beaming and then I looked at this pup. He looked at me, nuzzled his nose into my arms, took two deep breaths, relaxed and closed his eyes. He was The One.

And there we were. Giddy and driving straight to Petco. Rich got his free-out-of-a-box-perfect-pooch. The puppy sat on Rich’s lap the entire 45 minute drive. He was sleeping like he belonged on his lap. And he SO did. On our way to Petco, Daisy named him Scooby Doo…because in her toddler mind, “brown dogs are named Scooby.”

We enjoyed the rest of the weekend with this little brown pup. He was very peaceful. He was extremely interested in Daisy and followed her everywhere. He didn't complain when she held him, or held him down. When she sat, he sat. If she layed down, so did he. Of course, we weren't stupid. He was a puppy. There is no way he could be so calm, so gentle, so relaxed all the time—he must be ill. We took him to the vet the next week and when he received a clean bill of health, we were shocked. This was just his disposition. He was easy. We were over the moon.

Scooby looked like a brown lab. But the vet soon informed us that he probably had Doberman in him as well. As he grew, we could see the pretty light-brown markings. That was all he got from his Dobie bloodline…except his fear and loathing of water and all things water-related. We literally spent one summer at a friend’s pool, trying to teach Scooby how to swim. He preferred to curl up on Rich’s lap, and whimper. His heart would race every time we forced him into the pool. Although he learned to swim that summer, he still hated it. To cool off, he would simply stand on the first step of the pool and cool his feet and sometimes venture to the second step to cool his chest. He was so funny about water.



One time, we took him camping at Pine Crest Lake. It was the first time he experienced separation anxiety—us being in the water, and him pacing on the beach. Within minutes of Rich and Daisy being in the water, our water-hating lab forced himself to swim out to them, lap around once and come right back. He did this the entire time, even while his buddies would fetch, swim and retrieve balls and frisbees.

This behavior would increase over the years. As our daughter grew, we began to spend a lot of time at the lake near our house. It’s always an adventure. We love being surrounded by nature and water and that summer-lake feeling. Daisy is quite a swimmer and Scooby didn't like being away from her. I wasn't even enough to keep him on the beach. If she was in the water, he would try to get out there too. Last summer, at Lake Comanche, we were all floating about 50 yards off the shore. Scooby was resting when we ventured into the water, but apparently he woke up. Out of nowhere, I hear my sister saying, “Oh Scooby! What are you doing out here?” I looked over my shoulder and here is his sweet, brown face whimpering his way out to Daisy and I. We all laughed and my brother-in-law swam him back to the shore. We moved in closer so he wouldn't worry.

Scooby hated water so much, he wouldn't drink from a dog bowl. He preferred the toilet. He even taught his dog-cousin, Sippy, to drink from the toilet as well. He did love the dog beach in Half Moon Bay, but as his cousins would run into the water, he would stop, maybe getting his feet wet. Every time we took him, someone would comment on how funny it was to see a lab who didn't like the water.

The one thing he hated more than water was cats. And, he regularly controlled the ever-growing feral cat population in our neighborhood. Aside from protecting us, this was his job, and he would be so proud of himself when he returned.

Scooby’s fierce loyalty to us was undeniable. His favorite job was to naturally take on the role of  being our daughter's shadow. And for the past ten years, that was his favorite job.


This was never more evident than when we would visit the dog park. Scooby was the Ambassador of the park. He would meet and greet every dog that came in, give them a sniff, and then go right back to tailing Daisy—no matter where she wandered. She loved to climb up to the top of the hills at the park, and up until last year, he would look for her and when he saw her, he would go running up that hill, just to be by her side. This devotion to our girl caused him to protect her at all costs. As a pup, we could take him anywhere and we did. But one day at the pet store, when he was about five-years-old, an old man said hello to us and to Daisy. He actually tried to shake Daisy’s hand, which was weird to me, but I was right there and so I didn't say anything…but Scooby did NOT like this man and leapt in between his old hand and our girl. He was just doing his job. I have to say, it was a proud moment for us, but also a little too scary to have him at the store from that point on.

Scooby worked hard for us. He always did his job. He had three barks, one for people who drove into our cul-de-sac. One for people he knew who were coming up to the door….and one for people he didn't know. He was our alarm. After the threat was gone, or the people were in the home, he would retreat to his bed, or his second favorite place—Daisy’s room.

Last year, we noticed that he was slowing down a bit. And to be expected—but you can never be prepared. Labs aren't known to live more than 10-14 years if you’re lucky. In November, I noticed some lumps under his chin. We decided to not visit the vet during the holidays. On January 3, I walked our boy up to the vet. It’s then I received the devastating news that he had Lymphoma. He was given two months to a year to live. But I Googled that shit immediately and all facts stated 3-6 months. We were beyond devastated. We were horrified.

One night, while Daisy was sleeping and Rich was at school, I had my mommy-moment with Scooby. I took his face in my hands and tearfully told him that if he was going to leave us, he had better come back as my son, because we can’t live without his sweet spirit. He is a part of us. A week later, I found out that I was pregnant…and now we know it’s a boy.

The past five months have been amazing, heartbreaking and rule-breaking. Once diagnosed, we allowed Scooby to get on the couch, eat steaks, sleep on Daisy’s bed and do anything else he wanted to do…except eat kittens….although one friend offered to provide a litter for us at no cost.

Last week, Scooby’s eyes started to show signs of blindness. He was struggling for air at night, and refused to eat. We could tell he was nearing the end and not comfortable at all.

Wednesday night, while we were eating dinner, Rich notified us that it was, indeed, “time.” We tearfully cleared off the dinner table and floated around the rest of the evening, petting Scooby and trying to prepare ourselves for the next day.

One thing Rich and I knew for sure is that we didn't want to take him to a vet. Since he was a puppy, he hated going to the vet. It scared him every time. As soon as we would pull up to the parking lot, he would shake uncontrollably. This is NOT how we wanted his last memory. Instead, we opted for an in-home procedure that I heard about on the Rob, Arnie and Dawn radio show. I contacted Rob and didn’t expect to hear back. But within hours, he emailed me a referral for a vet that he has used in the past, Dr. Jyl's Mobile Vet Connection. He also comforted us with encouragement and said we were doing the right thing for wanting his final moments to be pleasant ones. Unfortunately, Dr. Jyl was unable to accommodate our time, and so we found and used Dr. Linda’s Goodbye at Home service.

The following morning, our home was filled with the smell of steak. Rich had cooked up a meal for our king, and he ate it, albeit slowly. We all spent time in a zombie-like state until Dr. Linda’s truck pulled into the driveway. That’s when we lost it, completely.

Scooby wasn't upset to see her. In fact, he barely barked. If you knew Scooby, you’ll know that this is RARE. Dr. Linda walked into our home and immediately got on her knees and loved on our boy. He was accepting and loving and happy to see a new guest in the house.

After a few minutes with him, he looked up at us and then walked over to his bed and lied down. It’s like he knew it was time. She gave us our space as the three of us gathered around our boy and pet him and loved on him and kissed him as the sedative gently put him into a deep sleep. The time spent with him was soothing, sweet and happy/sad. We thanked him and told him he was a good boy. That was his last memory. Then we let her give the last injection until his heart stopped.

This is truly been one of the most difficult things we have ever faced. To say Dr. Linda was WONDERFUL is an understatement. We will never regret saying goodbye to him the way we did.

The rest of our day was spent together, talking, crying, laughing, shopping, eating ice cream and napping. We decided as a family to not answer the phone. I posted pics and an update to our Facebook page. The outpouring of love and well-wishes was overwhelming and very much needed. Throughout the day, we were comforted by the sweet words, emails and texts. We could feel the love and we thank you all.

It’s weird without him. I think the hardest part is not being greeted at the door when we get home. The silence in our home is so loud. But we can feel him in our home still. At night, we can hear him tip-toe on the tile. And we all swear we heard him enter Daisy’s room in the middle of the night over the weekend. It was a nice reminder that he is still here.

It’s only been five days, but we know we will end up getting another dog, it’s just who we are. We are a dog-family. But we will always miss our sweet brown boy. The cats in the neighborhood, will not.

Secondary Infertility and Me

April 25-29 is National Infertility Week. And I’m going to talk about infertility. And this might be uncomfortable for some, but I don’t care. It’s real. For the past 10 or so years, it was my reality. And to date, I know some lovely ladies in my life are still struggling.

I read a story on the Today show about releasing the silence on this powerful subject. Tears streamed down my face as I listened to several women discuss their monthly disappointment. It’s been 5 months since I relived that same disappointment, and for 10 years, I experienced it about the 17th of every month.

When I was 24 and had our daughter, I simply assumed that obviously we were both fine and if and when we ever wanted to give her a sibling—we could and would. Careers took off and the years flew by and we tried and tried-never once using protection. My husband always said it was God’s Will if we were to be parents again.

I bought into that until our daughter was about six. Then, it started to worry me.

Through the years, I would go through periods of depression thinking something was wrong with me. I was counting days—my period was considered normal, and still I wasn’t conceiving.

I blamed it on my weight. I blamed it on his sperm count that he refused to get checked. I blamed it on God. I also thanked God that at least we had one, beautiful healthy daughter. I struggled between guilt for wanting and sadness for needing.

Friends and family members seemed to get pregnant every time they sneezed. It hurt to see baby shower invitations, and it pained me when any of them would offer their suggestions about adoption. Yeah, duh, I know the options out there, believe me…but I want to feel that baby inside me and it’s natural to want—or need—to feel that way.

There is a silent struggle with secondary infertility and everyone seemed to have an opinion. Here are some things people would say:

“You just have one kid? Are you going to have more??” –It’s none of your business.

“At least you have one.” –True, but I want, need, desire, long for more.
“You can always adopt.” –Really? Tell me more because I haven’t ever heard or considered this as an option….

“My friend’s friend got pregnant when they stopped trying—maybe you should stop trying.” –Fuck off.

“Can I have my baby shower at your house?”—Nope. Because when you leave with all your baby stuff and your perfect belly, I am left to clean up the reminders of what I will never have again. It’s not you, it’s me. Sorry.

“An only child is a lonely child.” – Gee, thanks. Cue tears.

The thing is, these people were not trying to hurt me—well maybe the last one was—but most didn’t know what to say or how to say it and some of them had no idea of the pain I was in, so it’s not entirely their fault.

I just had to remind myself that we are good people, and this is life and sometimes unfortunate things just happen to good people.

During the past couple of years, I just resorted to telling people we were infertile. I mean, after 13 years with one partner, no protection, and only 1 pregnancy—why would I think otherwise? It was easier than explaining that we are still trying and have no fucking clue as to why it’s not working and we are too scared to go see a doctor about it.

That worked for a while but it didn’t take away the monthly reminder that no, I was not pregnant. The tears, the depression, the why’s, what’s wrong with me days…and weeks.

The thing that sucks about infertility is that there is nothing you can say that will make us feel better. Family, friends, coworkers, you are in a permanent limbo as we live in our own hell. But you can educate yourself.

Here are some misconceptions:

We are not depressed every day. But some days, we can barely get out of bed.

We love you and when you get pregnant, we are genuinely happy for you—seriously we are (some more than others). But we will have days of jealousy, and we can’t deny that.

We might not come to your baby shower. It’ s not you—it’s us. Try to not take it personal.

You can’t console us unless you know. You really, truly know, so don’t try. Just be open, listen, educate yourself.

And now that I am magically pregnant again, my memory of struggling with infertility is still raw and sometimes it’s hard to believe that I am actually carrying a child. It’s hard to get excited. I’m scared something will go wrong. I don’t understand why now—why me—when I know other deserving couples who haven never conceived. I can’t help but think this should be their time. I feel guilty. But I also feel blessed.

So as I cautiously carry this baby and pray for a healthy one, I want those who struggle to know:

I remember

I hear you

I have hope for you

It’s ok if you don’t attend my baby shower

And for those of you who can’t comprehend the thought of infertility, or secondary infertility, how about this: It’s none of your business why someone has ONE or NO children. Mind your manners and try to keep your questions to yourself, because even if most people will gladly talk about their decision to not have more, once in a while, you’re going to just open a wound and poor salt on it, unknowingly—because sometimes unfortunate things happen to good people, remember?

For more information on how you can help a loved one struggling with infertility or secondary infertility, visit:
http://www.resolve.org/
or
http://www.savvyauntie.com/

SURPRISE!

Wishful Thinking


They say to be careful what you wish for. My friend says to be clear when you wish for it. She was clear and concise, and during the past year, we have seen her achieve her wishes on so many levels and completely redirect the course of her life.

And maybe I subscribed to this way of thinking years ago, but in the day-to-day happenings in life, I had forgotten to use this meditation to direct my own life.

I used to use positive thinking often.

It worked right before I met my husband. I wrote out everything I wanted in a man, and I wrapped it around a rose quartz and I slept near it for weeks. Within a couple of months, I had met the love of my life.

It worked when he told me that he had goals. He was 26 and he told me that he would be married, have a child and own a home before he was 30 years old. He did it. We did it.

It worked when I wished that we would have a perfect baby. We did.

But it didn’t work when we wanted another baby. In fact, it backfired. Struggling with secondary infertility is something we did in silence. Undiagnosed, this is the year that we were to find out medically, why.

At times, we were content with just having our daughter, and we have been in that mindset for years. Although at times, as others in our lives have had babies, it has brought up some deep emotions….perhaps I wasn’t phrasing the question correctly?

I use to say “Yeah, I’d love to have another kid, but obviously we can’t.” I even resorted to just telling people we were infertile.

Last year, we started discussing fostering a child this year. We were both starting to discuss the age we would like, and the gender and how it would all work out. We had come to a peaceful acceptance that another biological child wasn’t in our future. But we were open for more children in our lives. So I started envisioning a child. A happy, healthy child in our home. I started shopping for furniture for this child, because in order to foster, you must provide certain pieces of furniture. At night, I would picture that child, happy and safe in our home.

But that’s not truly what I envisioned. I saw a baby. A healthy and happy baby. And when my dog was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I held his head in my hands and tearfully told him that if he is going to leave us, he better come back as my son.

Careful what you wish for....I am pregnant.

Rich always just told me that God had a plan and if it’s meant to be, then it will be. Well God has a sense of humor, because assuming all goes well, our children will be 12 years apart.

I am thrilled, scared, nervous, happy, tickled and sick. But, I keep repeating this mantra -- STRONG-HEALTHY.

It’s been an interesting few weeks into the New Year, and if all goes well, I think it might be our second-best year of our lives.

I am not technically naming the child after our dog, but "Scooby" could be a middle name, right?

Stay tuned.

Our Last Christmas with Santa

The conversation was brief and innocent yet solemn.

“Mom, kids at school are saying there is no Santa and it’s actually your parents who give you gifts-is that true?”

My heart stung with that sharp heat—unlike a roller coaster—more like “Ahhhh Maaaan!”

I don’t want to lie to her. But I am not ready to be the bearer of bad news. I chose my words carefully.

“Well honey, what do you believe?”

“I told them they were wrong because there is no way my parents could eat as many cookies as I leave out.”

And there it was. She still believes, but not for long.

I didn’t think I would be sad about this, but I totally am. I am going to miss dazzling my daughter with the Christmas Spirit that we don her with each and every year.

I will miss separating gifts and hiding them in the attic. I will miss buying the different Christmas paper (Santa has special wrapping paper—the kind that sparkles and costs $7 a roll). I will miss writing in different handwriting—Calligraphy or script—because after all, he is so magical that his penmanship must match. I will miss the awe in her eyes as she runs into the living room to see that Santa has left her stocking on the couch, overflowing with trinkets like fart-sounding gels, nail polish and gum. I’m even going to miss waiting until she falls asleep so that we can begin to transform our living room into a place where Santa surely had fun.

Most of this staging happened 10 minutes before we left to see the family on Christmas Eve each year. We would put her in the car and then say we forgot something and run back into the house. I always wondered if she would ever catch on that every single year, both of us would forget something so important that we would both have to leave her for a few minutes. While inside, we would quickly rearrange the living room so that when we returned home at 1 or 2 am, if she was awake, she could tell he had been here.

I will miss leaving crumbs from the cookies and a ring of milk on the table, throwing away the reindeer food and covering up the mess in the garbage can as to ensure no evidence was left behind. I will miss writing a thank-you note to her, and answering any questions she had left me…I mean Santa.

No one ever told me how sad this would be. So, for those of you who have small children, enjoy these moments. Take lots of pictures. Take them to have their pictures taken with him at the mall. Take it all in and feel the magic in their sweet spirits. From the little feet in footsie pajamas to the warm smiles and uncontrollable giggles, a genuine indication of their belief in Santa Claus. I will miss these times and look forward to setting the stage for our grandchildren…in 20 or more years.

So this year, I will make it her best ever. If I have to climb on the rooftop or jingle some bells outside her room, so be it. For I know, this is it. Our last Christmas with a child who believes in Santa Claus.

I shouldn’t end on this. It’s too sad.

Although I think I could, I am not crying. I am actually thankful and grateful that the true meaning of Christmas will not be left behind just because she won’t believe in Santa. I am merely going to miss the things we do for the little ones who believe.

We will still bake cookies and go shopping. We will still donate toys and clothes to those less fortunate than us. We will still drive around town to admire the light displays. And most of all, we will thank the Universe that we have this day to celebrate and be warm and full with an abundance of love and the glory of this thing called life.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Happy Food Poisoning Day

Thanksgiving brings up several memories for me. At the time, they weren’t so funny… but today, I can laugh and now you can too. You’re welcome.

In 2000, we finally moved into a home of our own. My husband’s family visited for Thanksgiving. I was a new wife and mom and the thought of cooking for all 20+ of them made me excited, nervous and grateful for Martha Stewart’s magazine.

I had never cooked a turkey before, nor had I cooked a pie from scratch. But with my mother and father in law coming to town with their spouses (yep, they all get along), all seven brother-in-laws and two sisters-in-law plus my baby niece, I was determined to make the best-tasting Thanksgiving dinner with the most variety in hopes to appease the masses.

I should have known that I was overdoing it when my adorable groom said, “This is stupid, my family doesn’t need anything fancy. They are going to eat, chill, eat and leave.”

Pfffffffffttttt……whatever!

The trip to the grocery store was hilarious at best. My hubby stayed home with our baby girl and let me take the reins. After I came home—with $350 in groceries—he never let me shop for the big meals, or any meals, again.

I gladly engaged in an argument over money. You see, I bought a Martha Stewart Magazine earlier in the week. I wrote out all the ingredients for the turkey and the 5 pies that I was going to bake plus all the sides. Not being remotely familiar with any of the spices, creams, broths or this thing called bullion, I had to buy all new stuff. So yeah, it was expensive. "But baby—it will be sooooo worth it!”

Next, we thawed the 25-lb bird. Now, most people have to keep their dog away from the bird. We didn’t have this problem. We only had a cat. Who hated water. But in the middle of the night, he decided to swim into the sink—numerous times—to retrieve the neck and the bag of gizzards and liver. We woke up at about 6 a.m. to a sick cat, half a turkey neck and baggie of organs strewn throughout the kitchen. This too should have been a sign….but I didn’t listen.

Cooking began at 7 a.m. and ended with a wonderful meal. Turkey, all the fixens’, five pies…it all turned out great! I was thrilled….afterwards, my husband commented how delicious it was—ha ha! I did it! Albeit $350 lighter, we were happy….until 3:00 a.m.

I woke up to hearing a sound that I cannot define in words. My groom was in the guest bathroom—as to not awake me—how sweet. Now, I can’t tell if he was crying, and he would never admit it, but I can tell you that he was moaning in agony in between loud bouts of explosive diarrhea and excessive amounts of vomit.

My poor baby had the flu….or did he?

About an hour went by with no reprieve. I felt so sad that he was coming down with something. Come to think of it, I wasn’t feeling that well either. I was a bit gassy, but that was it. My stomach ached a little. I probably just ate too much…right?

He was ill for about four hours. Then, he slept. The entire next day, he stayed on the couch and made frequent trips to the throne. I still had a little tummy ache, but nothing too bad. I might have even left to go shopping!

About two days went by and my man had bounced back from that bug. Then the phone rang. He answered. And this is what I heard:

“Hello…what? Really? Who? Everyone? Me too!” And with this he glared at me…”Was she admitted? Is she ok? Mom too? Holy Shit…who else? Have you talked to Dad? No one? Then it couldn’t have been the turkey. Are you better? Is she home? I’ll call her. Sorry bro.”

What ensued after was one of the worst feelings I have ever felt. In my attempt to be like Martha, I unintentionally gave half of my husband’s family food poisoning. In fact, my baby niece, sister in-law and mother in-law had to get IVs at the hospital to rehydrate them.

His father’s side didn’t get sick at all.

We traced it back to that chocolate crème pie. The one with whipping cream. The one that stayed on the counter, above the dishwasher, while I did at least 3 loads of dishes that day. The one that his father’s side didn’t sample (lucky bastards). The one that his mother’s side inhaled. And they all got violently ill. Thankfully, my baby didn’t get sick, but my baby niece was very ill.

I have never lived this down. Although it has gotten me out of cooking for the past decade, I still feel bad every thanksgiving when I think about it.

The funny thing is……They came back 30 days later for Christmas…and I fucked up again. But you’ll have to wait to hear that. It will be a great Christmas Eve story.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

I'mmmm baaaackkkkk

I’m back. And in full swing of things again. It’s been 9 weeks since we returned from our vacation. In that time, we bought a new car (boooo! for car payments), I turned 36, Rich started school, my job became increasingly busy, I took a month off of doing comedy shows, the Giants won the World Series and blogging has taken a much deserved back seat, but so have my workouts.

There is one thing I have learned in the past 9 weeks—if I am not blogging, I am not logging.....miles that is.

So about a week ago, I was talking about going to the gym and my daughter overheard me. She was super excited. Even when I came home and was too tired to get my shoes on. She egged me on to go. I even got a little bit irritated because I felt that she was “guilting” me into going…but that wasn’t true. She needed this just as much as I did. So, we went. I explained to her that I didn’t want to go, but afterwards, I knew I would thank her. And I did.

The next day, I scoped out a new 5k run and I started running again. And I almost cried. It’s harder than it was 9 weeks ago, but I still killed a mile in 12 minutes. I pushed myself to do that. I was very sore the next day, but I love that feeling.

Running is a reminder that time happens at the speed of life and in that time, I can choose to run and clear my mind, cleanse my body and open my heart, or I could just as easily become a recluse, gain my weight back and project anger for things that are out of my control.

There are many things out of my control right now, and I must surrender them. I can't choose the outcomes. I can't change anyone's mind. But I can chose to run.

Running has given me strength, both physically and mentally. I like the endorphins in my brain after a hard run. I feel high, and things are clear. Life seems manageable. Problems that I dwelled on earlier diminish. And I get to spend real quality time with my daughter. Plus, I feel like a size 6 and avoid mirrors so that my energy stays elevated.

And so I run. And she works out in her part of the gym. And our sweaty faces greet each other as she takes the last of my water bottle, which I have secretly saved just for her. And we hold hands and walk out of the gym into the crisp air and a stunning sunset. And then we chat.

I cherish our conversations on the way home from the gym. Out hearts continue to pound from the exercise and our excited words flow freely—without judgment, with a clear mind. I am more present for her than I ever am and she opens up and talks as if she knows this is the safest environment she will ever have. With daddy at school, our conversations continue at home and into the evening while we listen to music, fold laundry and play games or light candles.

So, the other night, we spoke about religion. This blog will have to be continued so that I can properly present my words because I was raised right. I don’t talk about politics, religion or sex in public. But this is my blog and I can do what I want to….so stay tuned!

To be continued…..

Maui on One Income





Looking at us, we have no business going to Maui. We are on one income. We are struggling. The past five years have been financially devastating…but in times of despair, you lean on the only thing you truly have. Each Other. And when you have nothing, and your back is against the wall, you talk and you dream and you tell each other ALLLLLL the things we shoulda, woulda, coulda done back in the days when we were making MONEY. But we didn’t do those things because we didn’t have THIS frame of mind. And this frame of mind sadly only appears when you are at rock bottom. So while we were kicking rocks and occasionally throwing them, we said “Fuck it-we are going to Maui.” 

View from the plane

This was to be our first vacation. Ever. I mean, growing up, our parents took us to Disneyland a couple times and we had 3-day weekend camping trips here and there, but a full-fledged vacation-nope. We wanted to do it right. So, we talked to everyone we possibly could. We asked friends and Facebook. I spent months scanning the Internet for the best deals and now I want to share our findings with you.

How to Save

First, we opened a vacation savings account at a new credit union where we don’t conduct our daily banking and we set up a direct payroll deduction so that we didn’t even miss the funds. We chose $80 per paycheck. What is $80? About ONE meal out. Think about it, usually, I get paid and we go out at least two or three times in between pay periods. So, by banking $160 per month over the course of 24 months, we were able to save $3,840 to pay for the trip. Of course, we also put in additional windfalls (1/2 of my comedy money, any gifted funds, etc.) and at the end of 2 years, we had just under $5,000. It was thoughtless and it added up QUICK.

Our first sunset

So with $5k in the vacation fund, and the Internet at our fingertips, we budgeted for the trip. That money needed to include activities, adventures, incidentals (like when they say the rental car is $260 and it’s really $460) and food for a full seven days. And it can go by FAST.

So, yeah, I totally thought it would be easier to just book a complete package through Expedia. I mean, air, hotel, and rental car is advertised for $750 per person – but once you select the room, there are additional charges for a room that sleeps 3, or a king-size bed or a kitchen. And then they add other costs. The ads are very misleading, and when you’re on a strict budget, there is no room for misleading. After almost booking a package that started out at the advertised price of $758 per person, the ultimate price with taxes was $900 per person. FAIL.

So, we decided to research on our own and we found way better discounts.

Airlines
Budget: $600 per person RT
Actual: $412 per person - WIN!

Tip: Check rates DAILY

 

Hawaiian Airlines would be the obvious choice to fly, right? Wrong. Although their site is super easy to use and shows an amazing calendar to choose your dates from, including showing the prices so you can make a budget-savvvy decision—none of their flights fly directly into Maui. In fact, ALL of their flights have a small layover in Honolulu and then you take a much smaller plane to the island. Me-Small plane? Pffft….Forget it. I’d rather pay $50 more per person and have no layovers.

Airport
Airport Budget: $40
Actual Cost: $80
Tip: Get a ride to the airport-and borrow Xanax.

Our good friend dropped us off, stayed at our house and picked us up. This saved us about $70 in airport parking and she cleaned my house while I was gone….SCORE! It was a long trip. I hate flying. In fact this was the longest flight I have ever been on. Thankfully, my Xanax was free. I have great friends.

Now, we would have stayed at $40 if the stupid airlines had a movie. And of course, it’s all people told me for two years “Don't worry - it goes by so fast, it’s two movies and then you’re there!” But Alaskan doesn’t show movies on a large screen. They make you rent one of those little portable players for $12. And when mom wants to watch Walk The Line, but the kid wants to watch Beverly Hills Chihuahua, well you rack up the costs pretty fast.

Rental Car
Budget: $260 for the week
Actual Cost: $460
Tip: Size Matters


Even though many places advertised about $150-$175 per week—don’t be fooled. I researched every single agency and found that after absurd Hawaii taxes, you’re still going to be stuck at about $265 for the week-not including insurance which you definitely need. And that is where they get you. At $16 per day for insurance, you just added $128 pretax. But, everything I read said that rental cars are prime targets for theft in Hawaii. Ultimately, we ended up with Enterprise because I trust them and have had great experiences in the past. And, they will accept debit cards if you have an itinerary showing your return flight. After all was said and done-we got a tiny Chevy Cobalt and it was perfect for the three of us for the week.

Groceries
Grocery Budget: $100 for the week
Actual Cost: $165-$200
Tip: Only buy what you need-plan meals ahead & stop at the fruit stands

We stopped at Safeway in Lahaina and purchased breakfasts, snacks and lunches and paid $165. Ouch! Then we stopped at a fruit stand and bought the most delicious pineapple, apple bananas, mangos and papayas, and spent like, $10. WIN! We did end up throwing out some food and beverages. And, we needed to make an extra trip to the grocery store for water during the week. You will go through a LOT of water. And momma don’t do tap water.

Costco Cash Card-we were going to do this, and I recommend it for larger families, but for the three of us, we opted for Safeway. However, after spending $7 on a gallon of milk (I exaggerate, it was $6.50) –perhaps next time we will choose Costco. You must be a Costco member to purchase or reload Costco Cash Cards but Members and non-members may use the cash cards to shop in the warehouse or online.

Our patio, each day we woke up to this...

The Condo
Budget: $125 per night
Actual Cost: $111 per night
Tip: http://www.vrbo.com/
A friend of mine (Sam Bam!) who visits Maui often gave me this link. At first, I was skeptical, but after hours of researching Expedia, Travelocity, Priceline, Hotels.com and others, this ended up being a GREAT choice. This is the condo we settled on at Valley Isle Resort and we were THRILLED. It’s a quiet resort in Kahana between Kaanapali and Napili and just minutes from our favorite hang out, Lahania.

Condo: http://www.hailtecmaui.com/

Contact: Judi and Ralph Harvey 254-836-1699 (tell them we sent ya!)

Our beautiful daughter

Yeah, it’s not the Marriot, and it doesn’t have waterslides, but it has the necessities. Things to consider: Laundry services? Free Parking? Full Kichen? Internet? Beach chairs? A cooler? You WILL pay for all of those amenities elsewhere. With taxes = $777.00 for the week. Look at that the view—you can’t beat that! And you can’t put a price on falling asleep to the sounds of crashing waves.





Gifts/Merch

Our Hand Carved Tiki: "Luck, love and protection for the family"



Budget: $200

Actual: $200+

Tip: Don’t buy for everyone

We actually spent a little over $200 on stuff but bought mostly for us. I guess you just have to be selfish about this one. If we bought stuff for everyone in the family, or even just the kids (we have ELEVEN nieces and nephews) well we would be broke. So, we wanted to get things that reminded us of this time together and so we did.



Aloha Mixed Plate



Dining Out

Budget: $700

Actual Cost: $600-something

TIP: EAT AT ALOHA MIXED PLATE!

Eating out in Maui is FUN. Our plan was simple: Make breakfast, pack lunches and eat dinner out every night BUT only dine at places we couldn’t get at home. This was interesting when it came to my caffeine addiction because Starbucks is prominent there, but our room had a coffee maker and Maui Kona blend was provided so I was ok. We opted for authentic Hawaiian food and were a little bummed when we found the best restaurant ever on the last night we were there. It’s called Aloha Mixed Plate and it’s incredible. My hubby keeps talking about the beef over rice with an egg and drowning in gravy plate that he consumed. The gravy was the best I have ever had. We highly recommend it. Sushi is a family favorite, but not a lot of luck. We went to Napili and ate at Sansei Seafood Restaurant & Sushi Bar, but it was just ok. We sure missed Mikuni. We did break our own rule once and took Daisy to The Melting Pot for dessert. It was a special night.

We didn't drink too much because we had the little one with us, but the alcohol can add a lot to the bill. However, a Mai Tai never tasted better.

Best Breakfast-The Gazebo

Big thanks to our friends Heidi and Damien for telling us “You will stand in line for an hour-but it’s worth it.” At first, I was like, Yeah, NO pancakes are worth a one-hour wait. But we did it. And oh yeah, I’d do it again. And so would a lot of others...read reviews here. This place has the BEST PANCAKES EVER. Try the White Chocolate chip, pineapple and the Macadamia nut…and don’t forget that white syrup on the table, it’s coconut! The Gazebo is located on the grounds of Napili Shores resort at 5315 Lower Honoapiilani Rd. You will be happy you waited.

Total Cost 

Flight $1220

Airport Costs $80
Room $777
Rental Car $460
Snorkel Gear $75
Dining out $650
Entertainment $400
Groceries $200
Gas $30

Gifts $200

Misc $300
Grand Total $4392

 What is Misc? Oh, the crap you don't think about. Parking at places, tips, knick knacks, more sunscreen, souvenirs, snacks while out, buying photos and video at the events we were at –totally worth it—and other little incidentals; like when my pedicure was wiped off in the salt water on day 1 and I had to buy and reapply my nail polish….shit like that.

Left Over: $608 which coincidentally was almost exactly what it cost to fix one of our cars that decided to break down the week before we left. That's a Whole. Nutha. Blog.

Our Favorites

Best weather advice


I used Maui Weather Today religiously and it was on par with the daily happenings in Maui. Don’t use the big new sites or you’ll think it’s raining every day. There are no bad days in Maui.

Best place to book adventures

SO many places offer discounts, but few offer discounts and details that Adventure Maui offers. We booked the Four Winds Tour ($79 for adults, $49 for kids). They called us within a few hours to go over the reservation and to see if we needed anything else. They were so nice that I would definitely use them again!

Glass Bottom of The Four Winds



Deep Discounts at “Tourist Information Booths”

Now, once we actually got there, we noticed several “tourist information” booths in downtown Lahaina. We went to one to inquire about a fishing adventure for my hubby. Well, come to find out—they are all Time Share ploys. HOWEVER- After talking to the guy for a long time, we decided the discounts would be well worth two hours of our time, so we opted in for a presentation and saved $198 on adventures….we saw the Royal Lahaina Luau for $9 total and my man’s fishing trip was discounted about $20. This was worth it. And, if we would have waited and booked our Molokini crater trip, we would have saved another $75.

Here is how you say NO to time shares…
After you say “no” 64 times…they bring in a closer. I sent my kid for some water, took the salesman’s hand and said “Look, I am sick, and she doesn’t know, so we did this to get the discounts and take her on some amazing adventures-catch my drift?” Then she was back with the water, “Here mommy!” and we were on our way to book a fishing trip for daddy. Am I going to hell? Maybe. But I am certain that I will see every sleazy sales person there too, including time share folks. 

The Road to Hana


Yeah, I am glad we saw it, because we now share the I’m-so-frustrated-that-I-spent-one-entire-day-looking-at-some-points-of-interest-when-I-coulda-been-snorkeling-or-parasailing look with others who have traveled the same long ass road. And no, we didn’t turn around, we drove on the cliff, on the side of a volcano and if I wasn’t driving, I think I would have puked and stabbed myelf so that I never had to do it again.….but it was a little fun. We created great memories, but we also spent 10.5 hours on the road.





The Beaches

They look so amazing, you just want to stop off and go snorkeling, and we did--and you should too. But a word to the wise (which didn’t include me) don’t park on the sand. We got stuck and in order to get my car out, I got felt up by a nice, but weird old local. Totally worth it.



Rent these and keep them in your trunk.



We did venture up to Kihei and Wailea one day, but the winds kick in early and the waves get to be too big. The other side (where we stayed) is blocked by that wind for the most part and you can enjoy snorkeling from sun up to sun down.



Best Snorkeling Rental

Get your snorkel gear ($25 per person for the week at Boss Frogs Dive and Surf, across the parking lot from our condo) and put all the gear plus a few towels in your trunk! You will be stopping to snorkel often! Load up on extra de-fogger though, because you'll go through it quick.







Napili Bay



Our Favorite Snorkeling Spots

Kapula Bay – if you can find it-you will come back for more. It’s the bomb and right up the street from the condo. My favorite place!

Napili Bay – lots of turtles, beautiful beaches with quiet coves.

Black Rock – at the Sheridan. Plus, after you can swim in their pool. Well you aren’t supposed to, but Daisy & I wanted to try out the lazy river, and so we did.

Molokini Crater – a boat ride into the middle of the ocean, a volcano awaits with the most amazing blue water and fish who aren’t scared of you. We took the Four Winds boat and we loved it!





Richie caught a lot of fish...no crabs!

Fishing Adventure – just let the guys be guys. He had a blast and caught a bunch of fish and he was so happy. When we went to pick him up, we got to see stingrays come and eat the fish heads (the guys & prep your fish for you).

Packing
I packed for 7 days. I wore a bathing suit and sundress every day. Next time—all I need is 5 suits, 3 sundresses and 1 evening outfit. Save the room in your suitcase for beach towels—you’ll go through them.

~~~~~~






I could go on and on about all of the cool places we found, the breathtaking sunrises and sunsets and the smell of plumeria throughout the entire island....but you have to be there to truly appreciate it all. Before our trip, I would see SUVs on the road with the little turtle stickers, or a hibiscus or Maui sticker and I just thought to myself "Yeah, right. Show offs." But now when we see those stickers, we think "ahhhh, niiiice....can't wait to return."

If we can do it, anyone can. One thing we brought back was the understanding of what it means to “practice Aloha.” We can’t wait to get back to that island.





 















Final Time - 46.41

WE DID IT!~

And I didn't walk a whole lot, but I did stop for short intervals in order to regain my focus--oh, by the 3 mile marker-- I had catch my breath because I was crying so hard. This is a small goal that was set, and accomplished and I feel GREAT. Thank you all for your encouragement, support and love. I felt it today. I'll write more later, time to hang out with the family.....

Running on Everything

This is it! The 5k is in less than two days and I am as ready as I will ever be!

My husband and I ran last week and he got to listen to my iPod for the first time. He surprised me by saying that I should slow down some of the music so that I can pace myself. He was so right—and for any man to have his wife burst into the house exclaiming that phrase is pretty much like telling him that he just won the lottery.

So I downloaded Drive: Nike+ Original Run by The Crystal Method from the iTunes store. It’s about 45 minutes of pure beats. It starts a little slow and gets going, then brings it back to slower and just when I thought I would start walking again, the beat speeds up and my ears and heart are full of newfound energy-enough to keep me running. At certain points, I serioulsy felt like Brad Pitt in "Burn Before Reading."

I highly recommend this mix to everyone. It kept me on the treadmill for just under 1 full mile—which was the longest I have ran since I started this thing called running! On Saturday, I plan on putting it to the test.

So it’s a big week, the final hoorah. The run, a big comedy show at the legendary Purple Onion where famous comics like Robin Williams, Lenny Bruce, Woody Allen, Richard Pryor, Phyllis Diller (who made her stand-up debut here), the Kingston Trio and the Smothers Brothers (who recorded their first album, Live at the Purple Onion) have all performed. Of course current famous comics like Zach Galifianakis, Todd Barry, Dan Piraro and Judah Friedlander have recently graced the exact stage that we will be standing on tonight. It’s kind of a big deal to us.

And then we celebrate Daisy's birthday and the countdown to Maui begins….which is why I started this blog in February.

I am feeling strong and alive and I am really happy with the space I am in.

I am done beating myself up for not working harder on the training for the run and for not being at my desired goal for our trip. I have shed inches, lost weight and adapted a new lifestyle and attitude toward fitness and health in general and that knowledge is POWER. I have worked though a lot of issues and been able to literally run from my troubles as oppose to eating them.

I know I am a procrastinator and also competitive which is a funny combination. If I had run as hard over the past two months as I have over the past two weeks, I would probably be bored with a measly 5k. But I didn't and I know I need to pace myself Saturday or it will be brutal. However, I know the competitive side of me will most likely target someone there and before I know it, my head will rock back and forth, and my finger will go up in the air as I say "OhHellNaw-there-is-no-way-SHE-is-beating-me!" And before you know it, I will have ran the entire 3.1 miles and then not be able to walk in Maui.

Either way, the fact is--I am proud of myself.

These last 8 months have been hard, humbling and left me vulnerable. But I believe that when you are vulnerable, you are able to truly grow if you want to. I want to. I want this healthy lifestyle. I like eating right and keeping a positive attitude, even when I am low-low-low. I like the smell of the gym and the sweat that pours down my back. I like the way my body feels and how it has shrunken and tightened up and curved. And most of all, I like the example I am setting for the little woman I am raising.

You all have been a huge inspiration for me and I appreciate all the emails, posts and comments. Next week, I am going to post a blog titled “How we planned a trip to Maui on 1 income.” I think it will be very motivating for you all and I think you’ll be surprised at how cheap we did it, and how you can too.

Think of me Saturday morning! Looking forward to telling you how the 5k goes!

My American Pride Runneth Over

My good friend, Rebecca Love came home from Afghanistan yesterday. It was a monumental day for us. Her parents, her childhood best friend, April, myself and my daughter were all present to greet her as soon as she walked off that airplane. Not many know this, but if you have a solider coming home from the war, you are allowed to meet them at the gate. So, as the seven of us waited in anticipation for our camouflage queen to step out of the seemingly never-ending tunnel, six other military men—who we knew were also coming home from the war—stepped off the plane into a sea of strangers. As they looked around for their loved ones, we shook their hands and thanked them for their service. My heart was heavy as the disappointment, or perhaps confusion, washed across their faces when they realized that their loved ones were downstairs. (Like I said, not very many people know that they can obtain a passenger pass and meet their vet at the gate--spread the word).

Anyways, the men walked past us and continued on toward the escalator.

Unbeknownst to these soldiers, there was a small crowd of older vets waiting for them at the bottom of the escalator. They reminded me of my grandfathers, uncles and dad. They wore baseball caps covered in patches and pins, and green or blue satin jackets showing their pride for their unit or ship. They waved American Flags and hugged the six men, bridging a gap that only vets can do—an unspoken gratuitous gesture of hope for a full recovery and a wish for a successful life after being a witness to the unimaginable. Many of the older vets' wives stood next to their decorated husbands. They wore colorful, bedazzled American Flag sweaters and red, white and blue star earrings. It's pretty safe to say that the men who greeted these young soldiers probably did not experience such a welcome in their time. It's a testament to the dedication and allegiance to our nation that keeps them visiting that airport week after week and all I could think of was "God bless them."

As we waited for Becca, a line of passengers stood to our right. They were waiting to get onto the same plane that these war heroes had just stepped off of. None of them paid the six men any attention. I found that odd and sad, but then again, in today's non-human-contact era, I was not surprised. Perhaps many would rather text a friend or update his or her Facebook page saying "just saw some military guys returning home-I support our troops!"

As the six men disappeared down the escalator to meet their loved ones, we focused on the tunnel in front of us. Tired people rolled their luggage past us, weary from their long flight and eager to get home. Although the plane carried maybe 200 people, it seemed like a thousand passengers came out of that tunnel before our Becca. Once the pilots exited, we began to get anxious, but just then; a tall, thin, beautiful image emerged at the end of the tunnel. It was her. Our soldier. The one we have missed and written and worried about for over a year. Her face was tired, but lit up when she saw the seven of us stretch up on our tippy toes to meet her gaze (we probably looked like Meerkats!) And then she stepped out of the tunnel! We could have tackled her, and maybe we would have, but all was interrupted by a 10 year old little girl named Daisy, who upon seeing "her Becca" ran and jumped into this soldier's arms. Becca twirled her around and tears were shed. And there it was, our loved one was home safe on her home ground, receiving one of the best things that few have had the pleasure experiencing—a Daisy-hug. I just stood there and took it all in. Words can't express the feeling of witnessing this sweet moment, my friend, the innocence of my overjoyed daughter. Tears happily streamed down my face and then I heard it—a cheering crowd. The long line of awaiting passengers erupted into applause, whistling and hollering and I don't think one of them had a dry eye. I even overheard one man say "Wow! She finally gets to see her daughter!" And THAT made me smile because little did he know, that quite the opposite was true, as I was standing next to Becca's parents and I knew that, no, THESE people get to see THEIR daughter.

I will never forget the embrace that touched so many yesterday in a Sacramento Airport in California. But I walked away sad that this moment was what touched the hearts of so many—not the fact that six American heroes stepped off that same plane moments earlier and were greeted by a silent crowd. Although we did not witness the family reunion that awaited those men at the bottom of the staircase—they are just as important to many friends, family and American citizens as our Becca is to us.

So, if for some chance, you see a solider in an airport, shake his or her hand. Clap for the ones that come off the plane. Look in their eyes—that have seen more than we ever will—and say THANK YOU. And for God's sake if you can, buy that solider a cold beer.


Welcome home Becca. We sure missed you.

Worry Knot

Clearly understand, there isn't any situation that isn't made worse by worry. Worry never solves anything. Worry never prevents anything. Worry never heals anything. Worry serves only one purpose... it makes matters worse.
~Bob Procter


I’m a worrier. I am worried about the 5k. Worried I will not be able to run it all. Worried that my heart has some defect that no one knows about until it’s too late, and I will fall, die and not be able to goto Hawaii. I am worried about Hawaii-falling off the road to Hana, salmonella poisoning, sleeping in a bug-infested bed, sharks, jellyfish, riptides and the plane-oh the plane-what if???? My father in-law told me not to worry about things in the water because they have a really big net out there that keeps the big fish away, so I suppose I can stop worrying about that. But what if there is a hole in the net?

I am a bona-fide worrier. I worry about this too—I worry that I will stop this blog, get really, super fat again and just be that way the rest of my life.

I worry about daily things too—like farting on stage, really loud and then having to finish my set. I worry about offending people. I worry that one day I won’t be able to make money in comedy—and I also worry about the person I will be if I ever do get a big break.

I worry about my loved ones and my friends (a lot), I worry about my financial future, I worry about germs and roller coasters and my daughter and people in third-world countries. I think about a lot of other things, but I don’t want to worry you.

And sometimes, I worry that the gravitational pull of the universe is just going to stop one day and we will all float into space—and then—and only then—I know I would regret all the worrying I did. What a waste to worry about the present moment right now. The running, the losing weight, the trip to Hawaii and how I should have really enjoyed this time.

So I’m focused on changing the way I worry these next two weeks. With the help of Xanax, friends and family I plan on enjoying every second of next week beginning with good workouts and ending with my first 5k.

You get one life peeps—let’s live it UP. Have a great weekend.

The Final Countdown

Where's Europe when you need them? Que 1980’s rocker music please. Let's see how long this song stays in your head!

So, yeah. It’s the final countdown to the 5k (August 28), I am so not ready. I am, however, on the verge of a frosting binge.

First—Bob Harpers crazy Dip challenge that I posted last week—yeah, I did it—ONE TIME. Holy shit! It made my arms sore for three days! And the Planks? Fughettaboutit—no way. I can’t even hold for 10 seconds—much less 30.

And don’t get me started with the E2 diet—uhm. I read the book—WIN. I planned on trying it, but didn’t. FAIL.

Look, I am probably my biggest critic, but I will be very disappointed if I can’t run the entire race. Even if I run like an old lady—fast walking—this is an important goal I have set for myself. I also set other goals for my trip to Hawaii, and even though I have achieved some, I have failed miserably at others. So what gives? Sometimes this is just too overwhelming. No amount of inspirational quotes will make me feel like my ultimate goal is obtainable.

Perhaps I have put way too much pressure on myself to achieve so much all at the same time? I have no idea. What I do know, is that part of me feels amazing-strong-happy and sexy-curvy. The other part is saying that I failed and once the trip is over, it makes no sense to continue—open mouth, insert vanilla frosting. I am kidding of course, but these are my inner demons and to quote the profitable Eminem, “I’m exercising these Mother-effers—they’re doing jumping jacks!”

It’s time to create a list of things I am proud of and a list of things I still want to see happen.

Here are a few things I am proud of:

1. I have used my gym membership every week since we bought it in February.

2. I have been praying to God every morning—to help me get through the day in the best possible way I know how.

3. The more I work on my positive thoughts—the more positivity I have attracted.

4. My comedy has been more productive this year than any of the past six years!

5. I have reached out and spent quality time with people who are positive influences in my life.

6. As a couple, we have been set and adhered to boundaries that prevent us from drama, chaos and other types of negative derailments.

7. I like the way I feel after a run, especially on a Saturday morning workout. My mind is clear, my energy soars and I feel alive!

8. I have broken old habits—a few years ago, there is no way I could have continued this journey, in fact, my old self would have stopped blogging long ago. To date, I have missed two weeks worth of entries…and not in a row! HOLLA!

9. I don’t feel like the “fat chick” in public or in a group anymore.

10. I am going to Hawaii—and we paid CASH for the entire trip.


Things I would like to focus on:

1. I haven’t maintained the monthly pics. I wasn’t prepared for the roller coaster of emotions that snapping a photo would create, but sharing those photos keeps me honest!

2. I still have my days when I want to stab the world with a spork, but there are always going to be those days. Again, it’s called life.

3. I need a meal program that works.

I am pretty stoked that the first list is longer! That is a plus!

Basically, I need to set new mini-goals for myself. Once we are back from Hawaii, I will have a total of 3 ½ months until January 1, 2011. That is 3 ½ months of running, eating right and losing. I want to start out 2011 at less than 200 lbs. I think this will be a mental breakthrough that I desperately need because I am hovering around 210-215 and it’s killing my morale.

I think I am just human. A human that has documented my life for the world to see. That makes me pretty vulnerable. But, it has kept me honest and on board. I am committed to this blog because it helps me. And I appreciate all of the input from all of you because there is no better feeling than knowing I am not alone in this fight for health.

This week, I have planned to run 2 -2 .5 miles, twice. And, I made a grocery list for the E2 diet...cuz I am the little engine that could....or at least that's what I've been telling myself. Check out my caboose! TOOT TOOT!

Until next week..... :)

Daydreaming

This morning, I woke up from a very bad dream. The book states that I need to be “in the moment” and experience the feelings as they come—look at them—ask myself what they really are—and then move on..But I simply couldn’t. There are a lot of things that I am having anxiety about right now:

1. A major project I am working on in my spare time—of which I have none.

2. My daughter is starting yet another new school this year. I have mixed emotions about this. She struggles, and homeschooling may just be the right thing for a girl like her. But we don’t have the means (and by means, I mean patience) to do that which makes me feel guilty.

3. Our plans to go to Maui during the holidays were drastically moved up and now I am still overweight…and I will be in the photos…and that saddens me beyond belief.

4. I’m working through being deeply hurt by someone close to me.

5. My first 5k is August 28 and I can’t even run continuously for a mile yet.

So, a lot of shit is flowing. Last night, I ran so hard that I literally thought my heart would explode. And when I run, all of these thoughts get swirled up into my brain like a tsunami. They keep crashing into my brain and leave me with bits and pieces. When it comes to emotions—I’m a hoarder. I just pick them up and put them back on the shelf instead of throwing them out—(oooooh---that is my AHA! moment of the day.)

Anyways, although I slept well, I had a nightmare. It was one of those dreams that morph into your shadow and follows you all day--the remnants of this dream are all around me. And maybe that is exactly what happens.

One time, when Daisy was maybe five, she was asleep in our bed. I went to wake her up and she just smiled. She had her eyes closed and said “I’m still dreaming momma—can you see it?” I said “No...only you can see your dreams.” She reached her hand in the air, eyes still closed tightly and grabbed the air.. “Here mommy, can you see it now?” I didn’t lie to her. “No baby, I can’t see your dreams.” She then fluttered her eyes open, and was looking at the air above her head “There it goes! Bye-bye dream. Hi Mommy!” She then proceeded to tell me about her magical dream which included stars and glitter and unicorns…of course.

Today, I wish I could have done the same thing, but as adults, we don’t just leave our dreams behind. Maybe we are supposed to use them as tools to work through a problem or issue. But like most tools, they just sit around and collect dust until a major shift in the earth happens, and then it’s our time to decide what to do with the aftermath. I store them for later.

Thanks to this book, I have recognized this as a trigger. I had every intention of fighting the “obsession.” So I got up early. I showered and tried to wash off the damn dream. I got dressed, made my coffee and packed my workout clothes in my bag so that I could life weights at lunch. My intentions were good. I was going to deal with the pain of this dream with a good lunchtime workout. And then, I left the house, knowing that my bag was on my dresser and I proceeded to drive to McDonald’s.

What-The-Eff?

Even as I drove to work, I tried to remind myself that another person’s actions can’t possibly ruin the path I am on unless I let them. Just because someone wants to be a selfish asshole—it really has NOTHING to do with me—it’s their path, their mistake, their consequence. I really have nothing to do with the decisions they make. But, as I ordered my McDonalds breakfast, I almost started crying as I knew that I had succumbed to my obsessive thoughts. They won. Just like they have my entire life. THIS is emotional eating.

This is a major realization. As I talked myself out of sabotaging my work thus far, I did the opposite—made my problems disappear with the old comfort-food feeling of fullness. Although I feel worse now than I did three hours ago when I woke up. Did you hear that BRAIN? I feel like SHIT!

So why not kick myself while I’m down? I looked up Micky Deez’ nutritional value http://nutrition.mcdonalds.com/nutritionexchange/nutritionfacts.pdf -- and realized I had consumed a whopping 600 calories. That is going to ruin my entire day and digestion. Which is lame because I have a freaking digestive disease and eating the wrong foods—in this case, fake food laden with preservatives and sugar—could put me in the hospital.

Anyone who thinks food isn’t a drug is an idiot. Only the addiction to a powerful drug would have won today.

I think I am seeing my old patterns:

• I know that since I’m not going to be at goal weight for Hawaii—why even try now?

• If I can’t run a mile now, what makes me think I will be able to run it a month from now during the race?

• I know that I will most likely not cut this person from my life—although they totally deserve it—I will continue to give them more chances.

I suppose I am a little happy that even though I lost to the obsession today, I looked at it for what it was instead of bolting.

It’s 9:30 a.m. I realize that I can only take baby steps today. The rest of my day will be filled with better meal decisions. I will have a salad at lunch and an apple in the afternoon followed by a salad for dinner. I am working out today—lifting weights—which beats the hell out of binge eating frosting and cake, right? Right. Oh great…someone just brought in doughnuts—of course.

Did I eat one? Find out next week….