Ok, I should be getting ready for Blissdom Canada 2012 but I just read a post on the Blissdom Facebook page that tore at my heart. Someone mentioned a friend who was terrified to come. Their nerves and insecurities getting the best of them and I wanted to reach though the screen and hug them!
So, seeing that I should be packing, I’m going to have to make this quick!
A lot of you already know that last year I blogged about my experience attending #140 Conference in Kitchener in September in “What People Think”. I let the cat out of the bag that I was TERRIFIED to walk into any situation alone and a conference setting just amplified this.
The response from that blog was overwhelming. EVERYBODY understood. EVERYBODY could relate to my fears. And EVERYBODY wanted to make sure that I didn’t feel that alone again!
A month later when I was getting ready to attended my first Blissdom conference, I blogged “Got the Shoes” and talked about how scared I was again. I went into the hotel lobby that weekend with the same fears & sick feeling in my gut but within minutes was greeted with smiling faces, welcoming voices and comforting hugs.
For those those who are feeling similar jitters or who are all out sick to your stomachs with fear, be strong and get to registration, once you arrive there will be lots of people to lift your spirit and calm your nerves.
Look for me and I promise, we’re ALL going to have a great time!
See you tonight!!
Back to school came and went and with it came routines, schedules and the never ending shuttle service I am chauffeur to.
The lunches, dance classes, swimming lessons, supplies, paperwork and never ending check requests all for the under 8 contingency of my family but this year I have made a vow to make time and find the money to take care of me too.
Some of you may know that a couple years ago I lost 60lbs. I accomplished this goal by following the Weight Watchers program and walking… A LOT of walking. I averaged 30 to 40 kms a week. And I succeeded. I reached my goal. Lost the weight. Felt good. Hell, I felt great but somewhere in the process lost the initial key that helped me start my journey.
The key: That one thing that forced my hand; that kept me motivated to stay on track…
I lost the belief that my needs are important. That, my health is a priority. That I must take time for me.
And so, when I finally reached my goal, I started to slack. I would allow others to distract me from my walks. I would have the dessert I didn’t need. I stopped counting my points and let it all go. I gained back all but 6 of the 60lbs I’d originally lost.
Now, I know it’s not about the number on the scale. (Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like the number on my scale but) Its about feeling good. Being able to participate in the things I love. It’s about being able to play with my kids without hurting myself. It’s about being the best I can be and I knew I wasn’t doing that.
Fast forward to this past July. I saw myself and cried. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t strong. I wasn’t being fair to myself or my family because I’d let myself get so far away from everything I could be… Again.
I immediately said, enough. I need to be as focused on myself and my needs as I am on my kids. I need to take control of a situation that only I can. And so, I got back on the Weight Watchers wagon, tracking what I eat and making good food choices but the exercise portion seemed to flop and fail.
I tried to start walking again and, following some suggestions from some other friends, tried an app to teach me to run but nothing lasted. Summer was busy. I’m home alone with the kids. There were lots of excuses to let myself not do the work and so, I didn’t.
By the middle of August I had lost over 16lbs. Then I went camping for two weeks with the kids.
S'mores, hotdogs, snacks and too many meals out helped me put back on 7 lbs of those I'd lost. Shame on me but the time away taught me a clear lesson. I feel horrible when I don't eat properly. Headaches, fatigue, crabbiness and a general feeling of unwell plagued me our whole vacation.
It was not how I wanted the summer to end but it gave me a chance to really look at myself.
What I learned was two fold. One was, healthy portions of good food is imperative and two, I need help to get my fitness level back on track.
Introducing "The Tank".
Three years ago a homegrown Goderich boy started a Crossfit training group in the shed of his family’s apple farm. Ok, maybe not a “boy” but a certified Chiropractor who’s goal is to “unleash potential”.
Today that group has grown into a much talked about "place to be" for anyone serious about getting their physical selves back on track. James (aka Koi) now has so many “fISH” he runs 6 classes a day and has had to move to a bigger location. It's not pretty and you're going to get dirty but they get the work done!
And that's where I now find myself three mornings a week! CrossFit! Can you believe it!
The reactions I got from people when they heard I'd joined Koi and all his #fISHY friends were curious.
The people who had heard about the group but had never been, thought I had completely lost my mind. While those who had participated in the past or who were still involved, said I'd love it. They predicted an addiction would take hold….once I made it through the first week.
Honestly, I was terrified! Scared out of my skull! I mean… I walk, I can't run, I've never tried lifting weights. What was I thinking?!?!
But I went. And, even though after the first day I was in more pain then I've experienced EVER, I went back and I didn't give up. As predicted, the first week was HELL but it did improve. The people are fantastic, Koi is stellar and I found as the month moved forward I looked forward to my "Tank Time". Until one day my baby bear was sick and I realized the "addiction" had begun to sink in. When my priority should have been my child, I found my concern was focused more on "how will I get to The Tank for 9am?!?!"
Now for all my CAS friends, I took care of my sick child (my priorities aren’t that screwed up) but I did make a point to make it to the nooner!
Fast forward to this week, the start of my second month…
I’m down 10.8lbs since I started at The Tank and 20lbs since I started Weight Watchers in July. I am able to swim 1000m and over the past month have cut 10.5mins off my best time. I’m rowing faster, lifting more and finding myself growing stronger.
Finding myself (again) is a process and I recognize it will take time but I’m thrilled at how my body is changing and how much better I feel both physically and mentally.
This month 10 lbs… Next summer a whole new woman! ….but wait! I need a fish name! Any ideas?
Do you take care of yourself? Are your needs a priority or does everybody else come first?
Awhile back I forward on a wonderful post by a another mother of a precious little girl named, Rowenna. The blog talked about not referring to children with the diagnosis of Down Syndrome as “Downs Child” or “Down Child” or any other way where the diagnosis is the child and not something the child has.
Simply put, you wouldn’t call a child with chicken pox “Chicken Pox Kid”, an over weight woman as “Obese Woman” or a boy with cerebral palsy “CP boy”. These diagnosis don’t make the individual. The individual HAS the diagnosis.
That being said, after posting this particular blog, I received a comment from a friend of mine from Mabel’s Labels who mentioned a situation she was in where a mom of a child with Down Syndrome was head counting her kids and said “now, where’s my little downsy? oh, there he is”… ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?
My friend commented that she was very taken back. She has experience with autism and made the comment that she has never heard anyone use the “hey, where’s my little autistic” phrase.
My biggest frustration with having a child with Down Syndrome is society’s genuine ignorance to these individuals, their capabilities and inturn how to change these perceptions. To have a parent call her child that in a public forum makes me sick to my stomach.
Person first. Diagnosis last. It’s not complicated; just common everyday respect.
This past weekend I had the privilege of meeting another family of a child with Down Syndrome while out celebrating Canada Day in true Club 21 style at the Goderich Canada Day Parade.
Please understand, this family is very supportive and excepting of their child and his diagnosis but still some family members are using inappropriate language. Referring to having “one of those kids” or “Downs kids” etc.
I have two big problems when I find myself in these situations. First, I get so hung up on the language they are using that I can’t hear the actual conversation. Even though I know they are trying to support our kids, their choice of words is so insulting and segregating that it negates all that they are trying to say. Second, I don’t know how to begin to correct their error without insulting them because again I realize in this case there is no ill intent. Give me a blog to vent on, fine. Let me rant on twitter, great. But put me face to face in a situation that’s supposed to be fun and positive and I clam up.
Teaching “People First Language” is great and very important but how do you have that conversation in a face to face situation without insulting the uneducated speaker?
And for all those parents who should know better, I challenge you to choose your words carefully. You never know who may be listening.
I started off this year with high hopes of writing often. Photographing everything and documenting all our highs, lows and daily grinds…
Ya, that didn’t happen.
So what did? Life, I suppose, but that’s no excuse.
I started off ok but then January 25th my youngest got sick and then, shortly afterwards, I got sick.
Now I don’t mean I had a cold, or a headache or anything minor that I could or should have pushed through (although, I did try to for the first 5 days). I mean I got sick. Pneumonia to be precise. Three full weeks in bed with the inability to move, eat or even get myself to the washroom. Ya, sick.
Then, a week after I first got laid up, my little ladybug got sick. First with pink eye, then with an extreme asthma attack, followed soon after by pneumonia. Ya, that’s just how we roll around here. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another! Anyway, pneumonia isn’t fun for anyone but for my ladybug it can be very dangerous. She has very narrow airways and any kind of congestion is bad but once it gets to the pneumonia stage she’s walking on thin ice.
But I’m sick, remember?! Step in my husband Wayne.
Let me premise this with the statement that Wayne is a fabulous father. Helpful. Loving. Engaged. But when it comes to the medical knowledge of our kids, well, that’s my department. Wayne does not do doctors, hospitals or needles… EVER.
But he stepped up. He held down the fort so to speak. He came through when the chips were down.
Even when, just as I was starting to get some wind back in my sails, our youngest fell to the virus in our house, Wayne held strong.
Fast forward to the end of February – we’re all run down and still coughing but life is starting to return to normal. Wayne takes us to Ottawa with him while he attends a conference. We visit friends. We visit museums. We rest.
Then my mother delivers some tragic news. My Aunt Lynn (a fabulously positive and determined women) passed away. After successfully beating cancer twice in her lifetime, complications arising from her third fight took too big a toll on her body and she could fight no more.
We were on our way home from Ottawa but Wayne couldn’t attend the funeral. He had commitments he couldn’t postpone or miss so I took the children on to Midland alone. Still recovering from being sick, I tried my best not to cough on everyone and not to spread pink eye that was still circling through my children over and over again.
When we finally returned home, much delayed and fighting exhaustion I was indifferent. Lost. I felt disconnected from everyone and everything. I couldn’t get motivate. I put on almost all the weight I had lost prior to getting sick. I couldn’t write, tweet, or engage.
I celebrated my thirty-ninth birthday during this time. I wasn’t depressed about my birthday (I don’t get to worked up about my age, my son turning 8 soon is another story!) but still so indifferent.
In comes March Break. Usually I am not a fan of March Break but this year proved much different thanks to the weather.
I am a sun girl and this week has offered up weather that literally makes my heart sing! We’ve been outside everyday soaking up the rays. We took a trip to the Welland Canal. We’ve walked on the beach. We’ve started our seeds for our garden.
Things are looking up!
So, although I did completely dropped the ball on my New Year’s Resolution and even though I’m not a fan of excuses, I’m going to let myself off the hook for the past (almost) two months and try to just get back on my horse.
How have your new years resolutions been going? Anybody else dropped the ball? Are you going to start over or give up?
So for this day, you get three glimpses into our silly world!
No, not the kids!
My sister is living in Australia for the next year or so and sent some fun little cut outs for the kids to put together.