I’m too tired to write a blog so I “screenshotted” my instagram sentiments.
I felt it blog-worthy.
questions below are rhetorical and somewhat facetious. I know chickens don’t eat grass. I know as much as I want to know about the war on GMO and I am NOT looking for a debate or an argument with the Food Babe groupies. I’m looking for balance, serenity, peace and not feel like my families insides are rotting from cancer because I eat yogurt and cheese and my kids eat sugar.
Archive for the ‘food’ Category
Tags: cancer, fitness, GMO, health, health fad, healthy craze, monsanto, paleo, whatever
I’m too tired to write a blog so I “screenshotted” my instagram sentiments.
Tags: anorexia, blogging, bulimia, eating disorders, find happiness, food, foodie, funny, haiku, laugh at yourself, poetry, rhymes
Shortest Blog ever by Scrappie Momma:
I stopped counting the calories,
I put the scale in the garage,
I refuse to be addicted
To this perfectionist mirage
Everyday can be struggle
Of “omg is this organic??”
Bc every health article I read
Seems to send me into a panic
Health will ALWAYS be a part of me
BC my 9th grade health teacher was Hawt
Ok that’s not entirely true
But I think I just laughed a lot
I’m trying to live in moderation
Break the chains of control that confine me
So if you see me reading a label in deliberation
Tell me its ok, life is a gift, let it go & be free
I rarely blast out rhymes
This literally just popped into my head
I blog most of the time
Possibly, I just lost my Rap Street cred*
My head is a Rolodex in the wind
Where I control the uncontrollable around me
Somewhere I learned enjoying food was a sin
But thankfully I’m slowly learning to just BE
I have no clue how to end a poem
The words don’t flow as easily
Just a quick glimpse I have shown
& help my day go more readily
* Kind of an inside joke, a lot of aspiring rap artists follow me on twitter. I mean not a lot, but enough where I’m wondering if Scrappie Momma is being mistaken for Lil Momma or Drop Dem Rhymes Momma? Who knows, I just hope there is no misconception that I have 1) any street cred because I grew up on farms, a fishing village and in Shaker Heights Ohio, and 2) that I can rap, because I do try and it’s horrendous.
Tags: 40s, being 40, comedic writing, comedy, comedy funny mom parent domestic laundry school, family gatherings, forties, forty, funny, humor, humor in parenting, laugh, laugh at yourself, laughing at ourselves, laughter, old age, stream of consciousness, turning forty
I think I blogged about this before, but I absolutely have zero memory of what I wrote and yes, I could go back and read it. However, one of the 10 things that happen when you turn forty is forgetfulness and lack of patience. (picture is me 40, husband 38. Yep. I’m a Cougar. you can barely see my lips, see # 1)
On with it:
1) You lose your lip line. I’m not kidding, your face starts to melt into your lip line. Lip Liners are not for youthful people. The entire Lip Liner Industry was targeted for women over 40 who wake up one morning, look in the mirror and say “OMG WHERE ARE MY LIPS??????????????????”
a) Caveat: You LOSE LIP FAT. LIP FAT. That’s NOT EVEN FAIR. God, or Buddha, or your divine being that created you / me, I must ask “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING WITH THIS ONE??? Wasn’t there somewhere else on my 40 year old body that you could have taken fat to use for whatever you need fat from my lip to assist the body part with the needed fat from my lip??? I could make a few recommendations? “
2) Spider Veins. Varicose Veins. Bumpy Veins. No, not the pretty ones that show on people who eat the perfect amounts of food and exercise perfectly and have pretty veins that barely show in their arms but kind of show because they are lean and strong. I’m talking veins that APPEAR OVERNIGHT in some cases that look like a cluster of blue bug bites. Or Looks like your children got a hold of a blue sharpie, glue and blue confetti (not shiny or glittery, the dull confetti, the kind that sits out too long in the sun at the craft store and loses all its joie de vivre) and decided to decorate your thighs and legs.
3) Cellulite. Seriously. TRAPPED FAT? Dear Divine Creator. Again, where are we going with this one? Fat being TRAPPED on your body. If the fat is there, isn’t it kind of already trapped? Why do we need to make little pockets for it to stay trapped. Its like Hotel California for FAT??? Purpose of Cellulite?? - It gives the Celebrity Photo Shoppers a vocation. OR it gives Celebrity Paparazzi something to chase after on the beach so they can hound some thin celebrity and broadcast to the world “LOOK EVERYONE EVEN SHE HAS CELLULITE” Nice.
a) Caveat: I recently took up foam rolling NOT because it’s a healthy and prevents injury. I heard it “got rid of” cellulite and I was all over that like paparazzi on cellulite on celebrities at the beach. I know it does not get “rid of it”, I know the word was “reduces the appearance of cellulite” but in my book “reduces” = “rid of”.
4) Your metabolism? Wave good bye. I had this whole long thing written out but there really is not a whole lot to explain. Scientifically it’s the truth. I had to take a very long and cumbersome test when I was a fitness instructor and the ONE thing that they kept hammering over and over in the “Nutrition” section is the older you get, the more stuff slows down. Period. End of story. I passed the test (barely) but I know I got that answer right. The good news is if you foam roll, you will NEVER EVER get injured, have zero cellulite and can exercise off everything you eat. (I’m joking here…kind of….I’m really counting on this foam rolling stuff to kick in and turn me 20 again)
5) Ladies. Your boobs. Will either go straight down or off to the side. I asked my friend if their was a cure for “armpit boobs. Mine increasingly gravitate toward the side more and more, it seems like on a daily basis. I have to re-adjust them. Hourly. Dudes, I don’t know what happens to your instruments, but feel free to blog and let your 40 year old friends know all about whatever strange phenomenon is occurring on an hourly basis, but keep it classy.
6) If you lacked patience before, expect to lack it even more. I went to very few camps or church gatherings as a child but there was one song I clearly remember “Be patient Be patient don’t be in such a hurry, you will only start to worry, Just remember God has patience too, Just think of all the times others had to wait for you”. The song frankly annoys me because it (as a song ) it invokes memories of people behind me in line, rolling their eyes and shooting me looks of severe disdain. It divinely pops into my head when I am in the line from hell at Walmart or Home Deport or Lowes or Dollar General or DMV or where ever places long lines go to DIE.
7) You eyelashes leave their home and start a new home on your chin, , jawline , above your “un-lip-lined” lip, and the top of your feet. They move south for pre-Retirement years. No extra description needed here.
8) Every time someone yelled out to you “Use sun screen” and you did not listen – turns into a sunspot, guess where?? The same place your eyelash hairs relocate to for their pre-Retirement party. Thus, you have a parade of unwanted hairs and GIANT torpedoed freckles on your upper lip, chin, jawline and feet in addition to the Hotel Calfornia’d cellulite and Micheal’s Craft store veins and so on and so forth.
9) You start giving your parent’s advice. They don’t listen and they ignore EVERYTHING you say to them in form of advice and CHANGE THE SUBJECT TO SOMETHING THAT HAS TO DO WITH HIP HOP MUSIC????? It’s like some twisted reverse-psychological- punishment for any hell you put them through when you were a teenager. I really think they do it on purpose.
10) You drone on and on about “what happens when you turn 40″. Mall teenagers, people in their “twenties” are mildly annoying, and TRUST me they find “people in their 40′s and above” as equally annoying. It’s just a vicious cycle of annoyance if anytime there is a mix of these ages; Which is virtually, any family gathering. THE only PEOPLE that favor well at family gathering, are babies. So if you over the age of TWO, things just go down hill from there. HEY BABIES AND TODDLERS – Be prepared to be annoyed for the rest of your life. :)
WAIT, I almost forgot. Bonus) Forgetfulness.
WAIT, I just thought of another one when I was loading blog link to instagram. SELFIES SUCK.
PS.This is ALL in good fun.
Tags: 40, anxiety, bathroom scale, being human, cleanses, comedy, depression, diets, doctors, family, forties, health industry, humor, husbands, kohls, love handles, medicine, mid-life crisis, moderation, wives
I wish I had a slew of funny things to write but lately I haven’t felt ha ha funny but I have sure the hell felt “holy shit what’s happening to me?” funny. I am back at Doctors office because of anxiety caused by medicine changes. Literally every side affect I am NOT supposed to have, I am having pretty much regularly. I do NOT want to be here going through another medicine change, my only silver lining is there have been periods of laughter, so I shall bullet point them to help me out of whatever the hell “this ,” is:
- Conversation with my sister:”I am having/ all the “call your doctor immediately ” side effects EXCEPT for the homicidal and suicidal ones, you think I should make a Doctors appointment?”
- Changing the bathroom scale battery because I was convinced it was weighing me heavy, ended up crumpled in tears because I gained two lbs in two seconds after a freaking battery change.
- Harassing the Vitamin Shoppe woman for a reason as to why I feel like I have PMS all the time and what pill will make me fill like a twenty year old again. Let me phrase this., help me feel like I did when I felt like a normal twenty year old, so maybe about 1/4 of the time when I was twenty, what pills do you have that will bring that 25% of the normalcy back to my life 100% of the time? ….Then telling her how much I love Quest bars. Then telling her I just want to not be bloated all the time.. Then buying a case of Quest bars….
- The frantic calls to my husband repeating all my craziness and him saying , “ok honey, just relax, um, are the kids ok?” , knowing he must tread lightly on my hormonally bloated mind.
- Scouring the Kohls website for hours trying to find an athletic bathing suit that will make me not feel like I’m feeling because in the dark recesses of my mind, as if a freaking awesome athletic looking two piece, will drastically change my life and even up my hormones.
- My take away on freaking bathing suits. Either they are made out of dental floss (and not even the thicker weaved kind you buy if you have gaps between your teeth like I do) or they are designed for a 99 year old woman going on a cruise. There literally is not much to chose from for us 40 year old people who are struggling with the incessant gravitational pull upon our , well, entire body, “Oh hello there boobies, Nice to see you there ON THE FLOOR?”
I am almost certain, you are thinking “holy shit this chick is vain”. No, I have been through this before and “this” unequivocally has NOTHING TO do with what I look like or number on the scale. This has everything to do with control. Yes, I might be somewhat of a controlling person. I’m not Type A because I am disorganized, but I do wipe the toilet bowls down with Clorox wipes daily, but on the other hand my house is never Better Homes picture ready, there is a lot of stuff everywhere, BUT the toilets are CLEAN, so I suppose I am a type C personality? No, I do not know what that is either, I just made it up.
I am a controlling person when it it comes to my feelings. I do not like feeling like my emotions are on a roller coaster. In a way, it’s good for me because it helps me process the “emotion” rather than stuffing or drinking or not eating or whatever other “ism” I partook in the past when I had a feeling rather than, huh, actually feel a feeling. Good God this sounds like a self help blog, but it truly is not a self help blog, unless it helps you feel better then by all means, my pay pal account number is……………………….
My take away from today is that I am human. My hormones are most likely out of whack. My Doctor said “Um, your changing medicines so yes my child you are going to be bloated” and gave me that motherly look of “Cot Jam when is this freaking woman going to grow up !!!”. I am going through a bit of a rough patch. I am not shallow. Yes I do care about my weight because I want to “feel” good about myself but most importantly I want to be healthy in a normal non obsessive way and there are periods of time where I feel like this is impossible. The solution for me today is as follows:
- No more “fitness or cleanse” fix/detox/restart or whatever their called- browsing. None. I like my exercise regime , I eat as healthy as I possibly can based on my resources/time etc, and I do not give a shit if my body “has adjusted to it” and I’m not ripped like Jillian.
- Love my mother loving love handles. They are a part of me.
- Wake up and be thankful for all the amazing people in my life
- Put first things first, inhale serenity like I’m 20 and it’s my last Marlboro ultra light on earth
- PUT THE DAMN SCALE IN THE BAYLINER-BOAT IN THE GARAGE
So when my husband comes home and says , “Why is the Scale in the boat?” I can whip out my feelings chart and tell him exactly why the scale is in the boat, on and “Yes, honey the kids are alright.”
Pictured. Scale in boat next to anchor.
Tags: beastie boys, children, dali lama, hip hop, ideals, kids, parenting, suburban, suburbs, success
Pictures, why did I post them? to remind myself of my “why”~ that what I do matter! Even if its as simple as wiping my bleary eyes to wipe my children’s bleary eyes (and crusty as hell , and wow where does all that nose funk come from??) to help them get ready for school. My job is important. Sometimes , I do not feel like it is important because I do not have a career , and I have failed as a 21st century female commandeered to bust that glass ceiling. (I do break a lot of stuff because I am quite clumsy so..that must count!)
I invite all moms , dads, guardians, coaches, teachers, preachers, working, stay at home, part time working, aunts, uncles , etc~what have you, to give yourself a BREAK. BE vulnerable, honest and KIND to yourself. Raising children is the toughest job I will ever love so much that it overwhelms me with emotion.
You are trying to teach little gremlin~terminator~heart,~melting diabolical minions ~ how to survive when a) you barely have it figured out yourself all while b) Lady Gaga is trying to out~do Miley Cyrus’ gargantuan tongue slide tour with vomit wielding artistry???.
I invite you to come out from the “suburban supermom persona” (dad etc, trying to relate to all roles) and give the laundry pile, the bird, you can wait one more day” !! ….. I did,. I left that sad sack of clothes right on the sofa and the angry dirty pile half in the bathroom , half in my closet. I’m a bad mama jama.
The other night , I was so overwhelmed because of some minor parenting fails and litany of chocolate milk thingy things & smores graham cracker wrappers. slammed cupboards and begged my kids to “please please for the love of God clean up after themselves momma gonna lose her mind, up in here, up in here, yall gonna make me act a FOOOL UP IN HERE UP IN HERE” ….ok maybe Im confusing my rant with a DmX song, but I think you get it.
Anyhow, my point is, forgive yourself for not being the parent that you see on Facebook or in the magazines! Leave the bacon in the pan and linger a while longer over breakfast..(if you are vegan, leave the toffutiacon in the pan, I made that up? is it a thing?). Pat yourself on the back for NOT signing up for some personal self~ development weekend course because you realized that its just not the right time for you. Tell yourself it is okay to not want to be the hottest Mom or Dad on the block so maybe skip the workout OR start one; whichever you need to do to FEEL HEALTHY on the inside rather than show people that you “can do, have and be it all”! Stop Frontin & Start Livin’
Its okay to not be the leader, the most successful person , the superstar, or legs~with~a~gap~in~thigh~woman
( Sweet Mary I didn’t even have that when I had dangerously low body fat, so I’m hoping this trend dies hard and fast) .
Dali Lama said it best :
And TLC said it best, “Don’t go chasing waterfalls, please stick to the rivers and lakes you are used to..”….
….. This does not mean settling for what you have, it means accepting what is right in front of you and cherising it for all that it is at the very moment.
I have been stress case largely due in part to my fear of feeling like I do not measure up to what???? To other moms my age? To the poor Target models whose already tiny frames had their “areas” chopped out and ribcages removed to look even tinier ?? (WTF Target ??) Who exactly
am I trying to measure up to these days? I will tell you who, ME. Im a Non cabinet closing, 2 term Pres Obama votin, hip hop beastie boy Jay z blarin, bad driveway drivin, burpin, hair drain
cloggin, clumsy bike ridin, microwave glass breaking , Scrappie Ass Momma thats who! **
Today I beg you to get up a be you! Stare at the mirror and say “yes, dammit maybe its Mabelline and Im so damn worth it , we have come a long way baby!!” (I mixed three slogans there). Hug the first person you see today, or smile if that is to awkward. Blare DMX, Gregorian Chant, Carrie Underwood, Metallica or Michael Buble on your JAMS today. Rent a movie that makes you laugh so hard you cry! (Or google the top 25 autocorrects, omg I almost passed out laughing). Just effin do it brah.
I gotta stop here, its late and I have a lot of FUN to accomplish tomorrow!!
Took the picture of pile of clothes this am!
* I think Gaga/Cyrus have talents, ….so anyways, I will let some other blogging soul twerk that blog out all on its own. Please, do not assualt me on musical debate, it was meant to be humorous :)
** note, my hubs, my sister, some of my friends voted Republican so before you get your panties in a wad thinking I’m some screaming extreme liberal who doesn’t shave her legs , calm down. I shave them in the summer.
Meaning, this is not a political blog!!!!
Tags: adhd, breaking things, cereal, comedic writing, driveway accidents, electrodes, garage, humor, humor in life, laughing at ourselves, philosophy, scott baio
I can have ENTIRE FULL BLOWN ARGUMENTS WITH MYSELF, in my brain where no one wins, except the furrowed wrinkled crevice on my forehead. It can be as simple as deciding what type of cereal to have for breakfast:
“Should I have this cereal, it is non~ gmo?”
“But why don’t my kids like it”
“Its really good and full of protein and low sugar but tasty”
“Why do my kids fight me when I offer healthy options?”
“Omg did I actually think that thought out loud?”
“Of course they will not eat it if I tell them it is healthy.”
“Did you gravitate towards healthy when you were a child?”
“No, I decided to get healthier because my health teacher my Freshman year in high school looked like Scott Baio”
“Before that revelation I ate cheetos and pecan twirls for lunch”
“But they really need to eat more yogurt”
I could go on, but it can be quite exhausting. Decision making has never been my strong suit. I literally would score a flat “satisfactory” in this category when I was a manager, or maybe it was the dreaded “needs improvement”. Oh how I hated that category, don’t we all need improvement, isn’t that score stating the outwardly obvious? How about “areas that you could improve upon, but you are still a fantastic manager”
I would be a financial GENIUS if I did not still count on my fingers. I have can analyze ANYTHING and pinpoint all probable outcomes in under five minutes. Seriously, give me a topic, I will have you so philosophically challenged by the end of my critical analysis, you will want to tape electrodes to my brain to power your house, or electric car if you are an environmental connoisseur.
I am usually in a perpetual state of thought. I am never, ever ever ever bored. My mind never stops moving, I wish my brain were attached to my abdominal muscles because I would be ripped like a brick s%$house. By the way, what is a brick s%&house and why does that term allude to people jacked up with bulging muscles? And why did I outwardly use profanity in my last couple blogs; yet now, I’m using the shift key to express the obvious obscenity in the above statement? Are you gaining a glimpse into my mind?
We do not have a garage opener, and although I thought it was because we cannot fit our cars into garage, I am pretty sure it is due to the garage doors I have demolished in the past due to the rabbit wheel in my brain. 100 percent of all the accidents that have occurred in past ten years, occurred in my driveway because I was in lost in thoughts most capricious in nature. My husband is protecting the garage, his tools our cars and maybe even our neighbors’ mailbox and trashcans from my terminator brain.
In closing, some of the most arbitrary activities can bring about collateral damage because my brain doesn’t focus on the moment at hand and , yes s$%t gets broken. This week? I broke the microwave circular plate thingy that evenly radiates our food and AS I was cleaning this mess up, I knocked over a faux antique glass bottle! Wait??. MAYBE I’M JUST CLUMSY????
Tags: John Stossel, Lewis Black, Michael Jackson, Missy Elliot
First off, I’d like to say, or apologize to my three followers, wait maybe it’s two, I’m sorry it takes me so long to get another blog posted, and I’m not minimizing the amount I appreciate YOU. I do write a lot, but it’s on stickies, journals, notepads and the whole process of getting it put into computer is one that does get lost in the shuffle of my ADHD mind and life. I’m NOT complaining, and I will aim to do better. I had a laptop but for all you parents of ‘younins’ out there, Minecraft stole it’s heart and soul and crucified the “heart” drive into a withering mess that even the boys at Geek squad cried a little when I took it in to be “fixed”. Yes I mean heart drive. (Hence why Geek Squad rejected my application of employment.)
This topic has been on my brain ever since I stopped teaching fitness classes and decided to stop paying the fee to be a health/wellness Coach.* It’s not like I woke up one morning and said “I AM DONE”. Decision making was something I generally scored as average or as my husband might say “Good GOSH Grapes woman, make up your mind!” OK OK, He doesn’t say Grapes, I’m not sure he said Gosh either. Maybe sometimes there could be an expletive in this sentence because, I usually go to him with all my decision making conundrums, which come up frequently. Stay tuned, because I will have some blogs that outline some of the fabulous “notes” I have written him when my feelings were “hurt”. Usually those notes end up by the coffee pot. They are fun. really fun.
It all started when I I joined a rather large gym and took this sassy, funky, kickboxing class. I fell in love with the first “jab cross pound pound” to some heart thumping – Lil Jon- club-remix; where, I felt like I was at the club, but in actuality my babies were in day care and I had my Umbros on (yes I think I wore Umbros from college when I started going back to the gym, don’t worry all you fashionable gym people, I upgraded my wardrobe a tad as the years wore on, insert cute winking smiley face here). Also no one was vomiting in the bathroom from too many Hagar (sp?) shots or my wedges weren’t sticking to the floor of sloshed Budweiser. All the club music fun without having to soak your clothes in tide for a week. Well, if you sweat as much as I do (apparently to the point where it causes medical concern, that comes up later in the blog :)) , you might have to soak your workout clothes in tide, just no club “stench” to overcome.
I had arrived. I was officially a bad ass. I was a dancing fighter. Usher meets Million dollar Baby. Michael Jackson meets Missy Elliot meets J Lo from the movie ENOUGH. I simply did not give a french fry if I was burning off french fries or if I was working out my “abs”. It was SO FREEING. I was having a freaking blast and I really felt “okay” for the first time since there were 5000 people looking at my “hootie hoo-hoo-haw” because my first child decided he was going to hang out for a bit…. and my obstetrician look like John Stossel. So um yeah that. Also, let’s just say I DID NOT EXCEL AT ALL at new mommy-hood. Like we are talking D minus, minus. I blame the fact that my parents didn’t have more babies for me to practice nor did I have enough babysitting jobs with little babies. It’s really all their fault. (insert facetious-ism, seriously, some people think I’m being serious when I’m being diabolically ironic.) More on that topic way later, Maybe another blog.
I felt like I had entered into some kind of “West Side story/Micheal Jackson Thriller-I’M BAD” remix video while I was kicking some serious “bootie.” It actually was not “dance” per say, it choreographed in a way that punches synchronized so succinctly with every heart thumping bass , I literally felt I was inside the MATRIX of kickboxing and Lawrence Fishborne had me “downloaded” into some Jiu-Jitsu-Lil-Jon-Dub-Step-ReMix. I do not think I ever told the instructor this, but there were several times I started crying in her class (tears of joy) because of all the incredibly motivational cues she we would shout out during class. I did not turn into a blubbering post menopausal mess, I got choked up because I was so freaking inspired and I simply did not feel like I was at “the gym”. She would say things like “You got up and got out of bed and You are here!!! be proud of yourself” or “You aren’t here to just change the outside of your body you are here to change your body from the inside out.” I’m paraphrasing due to the fact that it was several years ago. The bottom line is, she made me feel like I was exercising for the right reasons. “What the eff does “exercising for the right reasons mean???? Laurie Jane??” Please, hang with me…this might be one of my longer blogs but it’s worth it because hopefully it will make you laugh and possibly alleviate stress in your life if you are struggling with a decision.
I had a tremendous amount of guilt with my membership because I did not work AND I felt like I didn’t deserve it as a “stay at home mom”. Looking back, I had severe post par-tum delusions after my first child, and mildly depressed after my second, I actually was just depressed. I hate typing that out because most of the world thinks that shit is controllable and it’s mind over matter. If you do think that depression can be controlled by just flipping a switch, please do more research. I digress, the POINT I AM TRYING TO MAKE, Is this instructor alleviated the insane, ridiculous guilt I felt from going to the FREAKING GYM! (I’m just not a the point where I can drop the actual f bomb in my blogs. A lot of successful bloggers let it all out…again I blame “others” for this..(diabolically ironic!!) I’m still wondering if “shit” is too much…but I’ll edit later. Maybe).
Fast forward a couple years, taking a variety of classes, with this particular class and mixed martial arts classes being something I was drawn to on a consistent basis, I decided that I wanted to become a fitness instructor. Yeah I know. At that time, I was 38. I do not know what I was thinking either. This was the best and worst decision I had made at that time. How can that be? It was the best decision because I truly learned how to perform a task that I did not possess natural skills to perform on a consistent basis. I may have excelled at taking fabulous classes at a gym, but TEACHING fitness classes was almost the antithesis of taking them, and I had to go through this process to figure out it was not something that pulled from my natural strengths and abilities. I am not saying that you should shy away from difficult tasks, ignore your weaknesses or avoid putting yourself out of your comfort zone. I am saying that if you are so far out of your comfort zone it is negatively affecting every aspect of your life, you may want to rethink the journey or path you have embarked upon.
To elaborate upon it being the best decision in my life. I learned SO MUCH about myself, the fitness “world” and how I interacted with other people. and MOST IMPORTANTLY I have a new found respect for Beyonce. We besties now. “Hi B!!!” - Beyonce, can move in ways that I would end up in the Emergency room if I attempted, and SING, like really SING from the vast recesses of her lungs ~WHILE- AT THE SAME TIME – NOT LOOK TIRED. I was say things like “punch jab punch punch kick jab etc”, while performing as said such tasks (not even singing like my bestie Beyonce or ‘bootie’ maneuvering in any way shape or form) and would be so exhausted and “HANGRY” by the end of class, I would almost fall into my food at night. To illustrate my “not looking tired point above”….. I had a participant ask me one day if I was “Okay” and look deeply concerned for my overall well-being. She recommended I get my thyroid checked because I was literally drenched in sweat and could barely speak after class. This was kind of my first clue that maybe the outer Pluto rings of my comfort zone was not necessarily the best place for this 40 something Mom of two high spirited children and one very busy working husband. Next time you go to class and you think the instructor doesn’t appear to be working hard enough, or start to get all critical, think really long and hard before you give feedback. I use to run crazy 90 degree hill trail races in college and even got trophies for it, okay it was a small college, BUT STILL. I thought I was in damn good shape and it kicked my ass. So I learned a TON about learning something from scratch and the black hole space that comes after your comfort zone. Insert Winking smiley face jumping emoticon here.
As for it being the worst decision, maybe that’s unfair terminology for myself; yet, there were many times I was in self inflicted tears of frustration because I never felt “good enough” or that I measured up to my counterparts. I guess I should have known better with my eating disordered past that I was not as tough as I thought I was in deflecting the ‘self obsessiveness’ that the industry as a whole seem to manifest upon my psyche. I thought I could shut those voices down but inevitably the cons started to outweigh the pros. As a competitive runner, it completely consumed me and I suffered health consequences from malnutrition and electrolyte unbalance and heat exhaustion because I did not have enough fat on my body to properly function and cool myself. Huh, Maybe that’s why I sweat so much now. Anyhow, Sounds dramatic, but true and it will be in my memoirs.. Henceforth, so on and so forth, I felt like at every twist and turn I had to monitor what I put in my body , I was over training, and it was negatively affecting myself and my family.
As a caveat to my career in fitness I decided to become a “Health Coach” and used Multi-level Marketing fitness shakes and DVDS as an adjunct to promote this way of life. I know it does not take a rocket scientist to figure out which company I chose to align with ; however, there are currently a
“Bandunkadunk” amount of these companies. It’s not important because the company itself had nothing to do with my decision to stop participating in this field. However, the somewhat convoluted and pervasive “online coaching atmosphere” of SOME of the Coaches, in SOME of these companies, (not just the one I was apart of) did have something to do with my decision. I have re-written this section like six times. The first time I wrote it, I ended up sounding like Lewis Black on the Jon Stewart show and I have been told that extreme sarcasm comes over quite poorly, unless it’s delivered by Lewis Black himself.
Instead of providing a montage of all the things that grated my nerves like tweezers on a chalkboard, slowly and screechy, (I’m sorry¿ was that image bothersome?) I will try to summarize in one small paragraph without sounding indignant.( Fun Fact here, I was going to use the word resentful, but I feel as thought it’s overused. Anyhow, I go-ogled the synonyms for resentful and low and behold the FIRST Google search that “popped up” was “resentful Beyonce” What??? Who is resentful at my BFF??? and how can anyone be resentful at the woman who masterminded the song that every man, woman and child is screaming at the top of their lungs in their car (……..boyimdrankin…..grindinupindatclub..surfboardgraininondatwoooooddd) ……My apologies to your boss if you are reading this at work and just played Drunk In Love in your office and tried to “twerk”.
I digress. Seriously girlfriend, Beyonce!!! Stop infiltrating my thoughts with your naughty music. I became disenchanted with the MLM fitness entity because quite simply, it was not my scene. I did not feel comfortable displaying before and after pictures of my stomach or my arms or my saddlebags or whatever body part I incessantly felt like I needed to “Fix”.** I was tired of being asked to do a “cleanse” or a “challenge” when quite frankly, all they did for me was made me feel like sleeping OR I wanted to rob a bakery, and then I felt guilty because I was starving. Whe I did the cleanse and was told it was a highly caloric cleanse (1500 calories?) and I shouldn’t be feeling hungry. I NEVER EVER felt like being moderately healthy was enough and I ended running around all wide eyed and freaked out because “OMG I did too much cardio and not enough strength or I hadn’t learned the hollow back handstand and OMG LAURIE why aren’t you more flexible you really need to focus on that what’s wrong with you???.”
My brain had become a level 10 roller coaster of negative health thoughts. I felt like I was eating too much and I should be constantly tracking my calories and my calorie burn. I was constantly striving to be in smaller pants or have bigger biceps but not too big just big enough to look a certain way and this swirling mass of disenchanted thoughts HAD TO STOP. Yes the problem absolutely became MY problem and it was turning me into an obsessive health freak that had banned “cheezits” from the house. I DID NOT WANT TO BE THAT PERSON.
Some of you might ask, why couldn’t you have stayed in the health and fitness/mlm “thangy thing” and stayed moderate and balanced. I could not because my career choice HAD BECOME the gasoline to the fire for obsessive, extreme behavior. I also did feel like there were fitness leaders in that particular industry that sent a somewhat obsessive message (IN MY OPINION) and I just did not want to be a part of that culture any longer. AGAIN,THIS IS MY OPINION. Some of you that read this might be saying I’m a “hater”, but really it’s not that, I applaud the athletes who have overcome giant obstacles to be leaders in this very complex and growing industry. I just chose to distance myself from the message that I did not agree with on a daily basis. I am not going to give examples, but if you are curious, Google leaders in an fitness industry and follow them for a bit, you may feel undoubtedly and incredibly inspired, I want you to to make up your own opinion if they send a balanced message or one that promotes unrealistic body image expectations. I do not blame anyone else and take full accountability that this industry was a dangerous place for me to rest my career laurels upon on a day in and day out basis.
In closing, I would not trade the short (but eventful!) stint I had as a fitness professional? (OMG, am I officially retired, if so where my pension be hiding???? ) Seriously the best way I can surmise this blog is with a quote I had written on my social media account in January. “I’m SO grateful that I became some of the things I was. To truly realize who I AM.. who I am NOT. and who I can BECOME.” (LJF) Sometimes you have to go through it, in it, do it, see it, be it, to realize that you do not want to be “it”.
*mlm fitness shakes & videos, I’m not going to go all into brand-name etc, because well I’m just not..I tend to over explain and I seriously do not want to lose you on some needless drivel
**I’m NOT disrespecting ANYONE that does show before after pictures etc, it simply made me uncomfortable in a way that was not needed for ME.
Tags: bad driving, comedy funny mom parent domestic laundry school, driving, Friends, funny, hair, humorous parenting, klutzy, laugh at yourself, laughter, life, moms, monica, phoebe, stay at home moms, stay at home parents, stream of consciousness, thick hair, tjmaxx, turning forty
To know me is to love me. Or strongly dislike me. I’m like a hot cup of coffee on a hot day. Hence the name Scrappie-Momma. Where did I get this name from? No, I do not scrap book. I tried and you want to know how much I completed? One page out of a 500 page book my darling husband bought for me after I declared “Oh Honey I can’t WAIT to stay home with the new baby and scrapbook, cook novella cuisine dinners for you nightly and who knows maybe I’ll even start gardening or something really domestic.” You see, I had just signed a generous severance package from a bank I was working at as a Human Resource manager and hubs was a little nervous about what was going to happen after that severance ran out and I was all comfy and cozy with new baby and my fabulous scrap book creations. Clearly we will be able to survive on my crafty “craftmanship” scrapbook creations won’t we? That story to be told another day.. He said one of the reasons he fell in love with me was because he thought I was going to be a high powered executive in Human Resources. Oops.
Okay, so now you know Scrappie does not come from scrap-booking. Do you remember the show Friends? Well there was an episode when Phoebe told Monica she was Scrappie or Scrappy (the spell check thingy majiggy keeps saying scrappie is misspelled. whatevs, now this whole sentence is underlined in red..) Anyways, Phoebe told Monica she was Scrappie because Monica “scrapped” her way back in to Phoebes life after Phoebes decided she did not like her! Well that’s kind of me in a nutshell. If I like you and you do not care for my presence, hang around, because I will warm your soul like a hot cup of coffee. You just might need to wait for it to get cold outside (or go into a well air conditioned building) before you actually enjoy my presence.
Today was a typical Scrappie-Momma type of day. I tend to run about 6-8 minutes behind schedule, I am not usually “late” but because of my ability to navigate this fake,extra-time sequence in to all my clocks, and tell myself “oh I have an extra 6-8 minutes” , I’m usually hurriedly completing easy tasks in a frantic fashion. For instance, I have thick hair. No thick is an understatement. I have hair that could be used to make a chain link fence. I could shield bullets with my helmet of hair. I have had it thinned and feathered but it just grows back in thicker and I then I have a thick, overgrown mullet. Ask any hair dresser who has cut my hair they have all exclaimed “DAMN you have a lot of hair, I didn’t realize how thick your hair was, wow, we might need a few more minutes with your next appointment.” OK, maybe they didn’t say Damn, but I can tell from their expression they want to and they also want to charge me more for dulling their scissors with my chain-link metal hair.
My point being, I was running late and I was trying to get 4 big chunky necklaces around my neck (CHUNKY CLUNKY jewels are IN my FRIENDS, and Friends from Friends too.) and they all got caught in the chain-links of my hair. I broke one and managed to get two off, but they are mangled and tangled together sitting on my husbands side of the sink for him to fix , after he gets home from a long trip because that was what he was longing to do, after sitting on a plane, and in Atlanta traffic for five hours. Seriously, how does one BREAK a necklace in her hair? Me. due in part because I have mutant-Ly thick hair and due in part because I built in 6-8 minutes of time that never existed in the first place. Typical Scrappie or Scrappy or Crappy behavior.
I made it to my destination a few minutes late but not absurdly late, and my day started to even out time-wise; however, the rush of adrenaline from fighting with my chain-link-helmet-sheild hair or from the 650 cups of coffee, fueled me into wide-eyed Scrappie Momma mode. So I pulled out of a parking lot and admittedly even thought I did glance to the right, I didn’t see the Prius honking it’s horn of justice , no scratch that, laying ON THE HORN for 30 seconds straight, with I think both middle fingers stuck out the window because I had inadvertently cut him/her off. I could not tell the gender because the face was blocked by the affectionate traffic gestures of love. Maybe I was his/her Valentines? I’m not, by any means, condoning my driving skills and I want to apologize to the man/women I cut off, It was NOT intentional. My helmet hair got in the way of my peripherals.
Lastly, I made a stop at TJMAXX Home-Goods because we are re-decorating my sons room and I thought what the heck , they might have some distressed antique /industrial looking furniture that , ok , ok momma really wants and almost tween son could give two shakes of a lamb tale about. I could bring home old hospital furniture and he’d be like “sup” “looks good moms”. Anyways as I was frantically taking pictures (and Texting to my husband who was in a car with his boss) of all the AMAZING DEALS on SOLID WOOD vintage-couture-industrial-shabby-chic-antique pieces that now I was kind of salivating because I was thinking “Hey this might look great in the ……..” I bumped into someone and my Starbucks Soy Latte splashed all over another piece of furniture (do not worry it was not one of the pieces I wanted for my son/living/tea/guest room. Phew.
I am not a person who splashes and doesn’t tell so I did run to the front to alert the very disenchanted staff and management who then proceed to call “Josh” over the paging system: “WE HAVE A CLEAN UP IN THE BACK. SOME LADY SPILLED HER STARBUCKS.” Josh and his attending (I’m not kidding, he had an assistant ) came rushing to my assistance. Thankfully , the splash was still “active” and my latte was made with organic soy milk so, like it was Vegan, Paleo, Atkins, South Beach and Nutrisystem approved AND gluten/pesticide free; therefore it did not harm the furniture. Josh, myself and his attending were all very relieved that I did not scar the cute little end table from Morocco.
In closing, the collateral damage and klutzy sins of Scrappie Momma was atoned for. I said a quick “I’m sorry God I will really try to pay more attention when I am driving and I do have a big ‘no Texting’ sticky note on my dashboard, so please let Jesus know that I do have that sign on my dashboard and I do refer to it quite a bit.” Although I wasn’t Texting (omg texting isn’t a word yet??, it’s coming up RED as misspelled…) at the time of the Prius-Valentine-Rendevouz- I just hadn’t clipped my helmet back enough. But no excuses, I will do better. Finally, an apology to Josh, and his attending for quickly rushing in to clean up the remnants of my sweet & salty soy latte. I have to admit , I was in mourning the loss of the rest of my latte because that was the frothiest soy latte I had had in a long time.
Starbucks tomorrow? I promise, I will look both ways before turning out onto the street and I will not bring my frothy delight-fulness into any home goods or boutiques. Peace and Happy Early Valentines Day!
Tags: balance, funny, health, life, moderation
I used to think I needed to work out harder, longer, eat less, eat more twigs, or jump on the latest fintess fad, gadget, parallel bar (have you seen these things??) to get rid of the extras that come with being a mom, getting older and just LIFE!!
Im grateful that right now at this very moment~Im ok that stuff jiggles on my body (other than the twins up top). Ive fallen in love with myself again. (I do not mean this in the Kayne sense of thangs..I still have my humility :-)). I am ok with exercising like a “normal” person (whatever the hell that means??) and I do not have to do 1000 burpees if I decide to eat a giant piece of cheesecake.
No, Im not saying I have gone to the other extreme of being completely unhealthy. Im saying I think I finally understand what it means to be moderate and good golly that is not an easy task for the “omg I want to be a superstar~master~athlete~director~of ablogistics” tomorrow because I liked dance~fighting~aerobics more than I like your average aerobics” (I know no one uses the word aerobics, but my periodontist wrote “no aerobics until pain goes away” and I found that amusing because for my two years emerged in the fitness world that word was used for flashback 80s classes).
My brain does not automatically work in moderation mode. I have to conscious of my actions at all times because extreme (insert electric guitars) was my middle name. Extremely manic or extremely in bed dead. Its no way to live and I can do that to myself if I do not watch “it” ~ no don’t ask me what “it”is because I do not know.
Healthy is truly a state of mind and it concerns a whole body connection. Ok. Im not dr Phil or Oz, but if I have learned anything its you simply can not enjoy what you are doing if you have to be obessed with the outcome of being perfect or having the perfect body or if “more” is never enough. (More money more “stuff”.) Less is usually more when it comes to a truly healthy, balanced lifestyle AND I DO NOT MEAN THAT IN THE CALORIC SENSE _ remember I just had a GIANT PIECE OF CHEESECAKE!
Be healthy. Find confidence. & shake what your momma gave ya!
I wrote this diatribe on my phone so forgive the typos…ill edit later.
We really need to see more Dove Campaign Special K type body shapes and Messages- in the Fitness /Health world. If you truly want to reach those who are having serious health risks because of their addiction to food, you have to take a good look at what society , is saying to them. I am passionate about people seeing themselves as a whole being and being inspired versus being guilt -ed or shamed into getting off the sofa. If a person is “guilt-ed or shamed” into getting off the sofa and eating healthy, the person will not stick to a plan and make lifestyle changes. This is a fact.. Page 127 American Council and Exercise ACE Group Fitness Manual “The least effective type of motivation is a form of extrinsic motivation called intro-jection,(Deci & Ryan) With intro-jection people report being physically active because of some external factor suggested by someone else and NOT ACCEPTED BY THEMSELVES..and are likely to experience feelings of being controlled, tensions GUILT or pressure..” The chapter goes on to describe that people have to feel intrinsically motivated- Which does not come from feeling guilty about themselves. Therefore,I vote for inspiration,authenticity and humility versus “what’s your problem” or”what’s your excuse” every-time.
Speaking from a busy stay at home parent’s perspective, (yes I’m busy even though I don’t “work” full time in society’s eyes), the pressure to “do it all”, is unbelievable. There is a major Supermom atmosphere that radiates out over myself and my friends on a daily basis and it isn’t all in our heads. I have yet to see a cover of a magazine regarding Parenting that truly depicts what’s going on in a parent’s life. I get it, pictures of disheveled parents , is not going to cut the mustard;however, I do think the parenting/health/fitness industry could do a much better job in providing an authentic view of how to balance the stresses of life while creating, routines (exercise included!) into their life.
If I had to got back to work tomorrow, full-time, I know that I would not be as disciplined about it as I am today. You know why? BECAUSE I’M HUMAN. You are human. Give yourself a break. I’ll admit that actually have to back off of the exercise from time to time, because I do not want to become obsessed with working out and eating healthy because I do NOT think it’s a good message to send to my children. I do get caught up in the comparison game but I’m much better at stopping that undeniable,self-defeating train-wreck-thoughts of destruction, to realize that I’m doing the best I can based on my abilities.
I do not know the answer on how to reach the masses in helping America fight obesity and/or unhealthy sedentary lifestyles. I think there are some great programs that do attempt to reach all parts of society. I also do know it’s a sore subject and even writing the word obese makes me a little uneasy because I feel like America automatically associates that term with outward “image” and/or “lazy”. That isn’t always the case. You have NO IDEA what’s going on in that person’s life and whats going in their life. You have no idea if they walk 50 miles a day or if the were starved emotionally and physically as a child. We need to stop labeling people and meeting them where they are now so they can find their intrinsic motivation! Food may be their shield and they used it to protect themselves, my goal is to help them find another, healthier shield.
All I know is I want to help people get active and feel good about themselves because I do not want people do die from unhealthy life styles that can easily be prevented by making slow, steady balanced challenges in their life. . It’s NOT ABOUT SIZE. A super. skinny runway model can be five times as unhealthy as a person that may be a little bit overweight on a “medical chart” or worse by “Cosmos’s standards” I used to smoke, drink , and run. Sometimes all at the same time, because I thought I was a freaking rockstar! (insert electric guitar music..) Was I healthy? heck no. Quite the opposite. I’d much rather be 10 to 15 lbs heavier with a little junk in my side trunk then ever go back to being a spindly , spidery crazy-eyed-crack-en trying to run off my the previous nights’ beer calories only to go home to chug Pinot.
My point is, life is not fair, it’s hard, there is always going to be someone that’s better, faster, thinner, more muscular , better hair, funnier personality..whatever… and some of it’s genetics, upbringing..etc. My Dad’s nick name is Spider, so go figure, some parts of my body are natural going to be thinner, whether I eat white bread (gasp!) or not. My sister is tall , I am not. I’m working with what my momma gave me and what I’m trying to give myself! You need to define what a comfortable, healthy weight and size is FOR YOU , your heart and your soul. It’s the whole picture. If you are a size 6 and you want to rob a bakery every day , have major headaches and are miserable, maybe your body is not meant to be that size. If you let yourself got to a size 8, and you feel much better as a whole person, then you have your answer!
Tags: abs, anorexia, diet, eating disorders, exercise, fitness, health, moderation, national recovery month, obesity, special K, weight watchers, you are not a size
We live in a world of polarizing extremes. I recently got rid of a book I purchased a few years ago, titled ” So and So’s method to a flat stomach” I don’t know why I even purchased the book, lets just say it was an impulse buy during a massive outbreak of PMM- Pre-menstrual-mania. I’m sure I even purchased the book at some super cute Starbucks-BarnesNobility along with a frosted orange-cranberry -scone (my favorite treat , in case you were wondering what to bring me as a baked-good surprise. )
I’m not immune to the strobe-light eye-bulging-pings of pictures of muscled up models , with their fashionably tousled, frazzled hair and looks of undeniable pain and beautiful desperation in their face with quotes such as “If you do not look like me while you are working out, then you should go eat that orange-cranberry -frosted scone while you sob in the corner for not pushing yourself this morning, you lazy , sad person” Yes, I’m being facetious with my quote; however, unless you live in a hole, you have seen something of this sort somewhere in a magazine, in social media or at the nail salon while buffing up your nails.
I have been down the exercise-lunatic road- secretly running at 3 am in Boston Massachusetts, ironically “hiding” my completely obvious obsessive compulsive-exercise disorder in the depth of the pre-Team Jacob hour, praying that no-one would notice my mania. I would- pretend I was “just taking out the trash” when I came back dripping wet, limping from overused tendons and shaking from hunger in my “running clothes.” I have had to ceremoniously burn all my fitness fanatic magazines as a form of therapy to rid myself of the demons to have what I thought might have been the perfect figure because I imagined that punishing myself for eating would bring me peace, content and eternal happiness.
I really do not know many women (and some men) who struggle with their body size, image & food intake, etc on a daily basis. Lest, here I am again , teaching fitness , joining a run club and blogging about what continues to creep into my mind , yes sometimes on a daily basis Am I dancing with the flame that burnt me to the ground twenty years ago? Should I teach Dance as fitness? (which I came to the conclusion after a few classes that , no , this might not be my skill set , as Carlton Banks tried to sue me for stealing his patented moves) I have also listed other questions that pop up in my mind and minds of others due to the insidious ADHD’ness of the fitness-fanatic posts..
“Am I working out enough? Am I eating too many carbs? Am I eating enough carbs? Are carbs and grains really that bad for you? Seriously now fruit has too much sugar in it?? Am I doing the right exercises? Should I be lifting weights more because strong is the new sexy which is the new skinny which, inevitably the people lifting still look pretty darn skinny so that’s just totally confusing and overwhelming? Should I try to lose 5lbs because someone asked me to be in their challenge group to “get fitter?” STOP!!!
I want to inspire and motivate people to be and live a healthy lifestyle; yet not let it consume them in a negative self-centered, controlling manner. I haven’t figured out the best means to carry out this message, but I am learning slowly that standing up for the us “middle-grounders” is a good place to start. You can be healthy, run, exercise, walk, jog, crawl, teach, box, tae-bo, turbo, ski , jump, hop , bungy jump , swim, zumba, dance, frog jump, play red-light , green light or what have you and ENJOY IT! I guess I just feel like health& fitness on social media sends the message that inevitably frightens people the most that really need a reason and an authentic, stimulating catalyst to get up and start appreciating exercise as a part of their life that’s flippin’ fun! not agony!!!!
As I am trying to put into my own words, I’ll lean on the very media that sometime pushes the negative voices in ourselves to an advertisement that literally makes me want to cry because I’m so in love with the message. I’m referring to the Special K advertisement currently on tv. (google it!). In a nutshell it’s a variety of beautiful women, all different shapes and sizes, trying on “size-less’ jeans ,with words of inspiration as tag instead of “size x, y or z”. This advertisement is such a breath of fresh air betwixt the other messages of “do or die to get to a size” .
The inspiration for this blog was my post on Facebook today “What do you think of the popular fitness/health Facebook post “Abs are made in the kitchen”. Here is a quick summary on how I feel about this post:
- Being healthy & exercise is more about how I feel than looks. Yes- I want to feel confident about myself- but quilting my way out of something enjoyable to have ripped-up abs- is just not my cup of Joe- Plus Cups of Joe should be starting in the kitchen..For me, it about feeling peaceful & healthy and intuition and moderation play and major role in my decision making when it comes to eating. I do not measure, count calories or weight myself. (ok, occasionally I step on the scale, but I really try to avoid at all costs) I am not saying that people who want to lose weight – should follow my protocol, I’m just saying that if I’m not listening to my body in terms of what I feel like I need to eat , and stop when I am full and I’m going by a calorie counter- I end up feeling deprived, restricted and angry.
- Please let it be noted, I’m not disrespecting anyone who uses these methods to stay healthy, I think that’s awesome! I’m a HUGE HUGE fan of weight watchers and my fitness pal.c om because it does encourage moderation and nothing is “off limits, I’m simply referring to how my brain works and hoping to inspire people to think about a variety of ways to be healthy, lose weight, gain muscle – etc!
In closing, Do not let your self worth be determined by number on a scale, jean size at Jones, or a flat stomach flapping in magazine in front of you. Ok, I wanted my blog to have more of a humorous slant, but for me this is a serious subject too because of the fact that anorexia and obesity are one of the same disease. They are eating disorders, and both should be treated as such. Do you know that when I was anorexic, my therapist made me go to Over-eaters Anonymous? What the frack? Well, what I realized is that OA, is not just about – overeating!, it’s about using food to control your emotions!!! Therefore, my message to anyone that may be struggling with eating and health, if you feel like you have a serious problem- there is help, and getting control of the emotional aspect of literally “what’s eating away at you”, is the first step in freeing yourself from emotions that bind you into using food/exercise (lack of /overuse) I will list a few hotlines, links below. Thanks so much for reading! I hope i have inspired or helped at least one person to take the step for a health life , that is not driven by a jean size or a scale number.