Happy Anniversary!!

Today I celebrate my 365th day of being a yogi!
Though I haven't practised every single day, it's definitely been a life changing year for me.  The practise of yoga has taught me patience, it's given me a greater understanding of the meaning of life, it's made me a kinder, more spiritual person, and oh, did I mention more patient?!  Cause that part is HUGE!!

It's sort of like it was meant to be. Me & Yoga. Yoga & Me.  I am a hot-head. I flip out, I scream, I yell, I throw things....so duck if I'm ever really mad!  But in comes yoga, and it's like I don't have the (negative) energy to go through that crap any more.  I still fight, and yell, but I don't really remember the last time I threw something, and the yelling is almost none existent.  Just ask the hubby, in the latest round of fights they were calm, more talking, less screaming.  Now, if I can just work on not spewing out harsh words like a volcano I will have progressed to Master Yogi!! ;-)  Even though I'm not much of a yeller anymore, there's still the whole sticks-n-stones aspect to me.  I can chuck out some mean things when I feel back into a corner.

If it wasn't for yoga, I never would have started this blog.  It was supposed to be to track the Living Your Moksha challenge, and turned out to be a great place for me to vent and share my feelings.  Knowing that I write about stuff that other people can relate too is a blessing, it gives me the warm and fuzzy...plus it's a bonus knowing it's not just my mom reading it. (Yeah yeah mom...)

The breathing practises have even helped me sleep better.  I've spoken of this before, but what used to be an hour to get to sleep is now, literally, a few deep breaths.

I even noticed over the summer that even my reading preferences have changed.  I used to be obsessed with James Patterson....to the point that all the books starting blending together and I couldn't remember if I'd read the book or not.  I was blowing thru at least one book a week, sometimes more.  I had this moment of "why am I wasting my time?"...no disrespect to James Patterson (as if he reads this anyway!)....but they are all the same. The method they die, and the location changes, but other than that it's always...murder victim, family drama, love interest, twist in the plot, murder solved, the end.  A friend recommended "My Secret Daughter", so I figured I'd give it a go, spread my wings a little.  Well I was hooked! So heartbreaking, and heartwarming all at the same time. After I was done I picked up another James Patterson book, but it just wasn't the same.  I only managed 10 or so pages and gave up. I need more soul, more substance, more AH-HA!!  I've moved on from JP, and haven't looked back....

I've fallen in love with plenty of yoga teachers. Some have guided me through my own feelings, others have pushed me to actually complete the ab exercises, but they've all touched me in some way.  Whether it's because they leave me sobbing on the floor because I just had an Ah-Ha moment or because my thighs are burning so badly....they've grown to be like a second family.   My yoga sisters and brothers.

I've made yoga friends, most I don't even really know, I couldn't even tell you some of their names, but there's always a friendly face, and we can talk the yoga-talk without the crazy eye rolls of our non-yoga friends.

Plus, once you've been all sweaty with people it's hard not to feel a bond!

So here's to another year of sweating, and tears, and laughs. Thanks for changing my life Moksha Yoga Dartmouth!!

"Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; for it becomes your destiny."

- Upanishads

Tis The Season...

To be overwhelmed by Christmas lists, the need to please, and the feeling of guilty.
It's the Holidays!!!!!!!!!

I'm not really sure when Christmas became such a commercialized occasion. Google tells me it was around the 20th century...which doesn't help me because history bores me to death. It could be the early 1900's or back when dinosaurs roamed the earth....I really have no clue. 

I'm not a religious person by any means.  I suppose I consider myself to be a spiritual person, but I never really understood or believed in the whole process of religion.  I fully have respect for those that do, but for me I guess I will find out what's true or not true when I die. I pray, just not necessarily to their God, I follow the commandments (I can't name them all but I'm sure I follow them).  My theory, take it with a grain of salt, is the bible is a story.  And we all know how stories go...as time goes on, the story gets exaggerated, and little bits are always added or removed.  Like the telephone game...I'm sure parts of it are true, and I'm sure parts of it are false. Geez...as I type, I'm already thinking of a few people reading this and hoping they understand I mean no disrespect.

I feel like we (society) stole Christmas from the true believers, Christians.  Wasn't it meant to be their time to celebrate Jesus?  How did Barbie and Mario Brothers get involved in this? Who invited Walmart to the Jesus celebration? Why do we all feel like we MUST buy presents for every person we run in to?

I go through this every single year. Christmas is not supposed to be about who spends what on who, or who gets the better present.  Don't get me wrong, I love a good present, but I would rather a thoughtful present than a gift card.  Giving a gift that means something to someone you love is much better than buying a crappy toy for someone that will likely break before New Years.   If I could go back and add up all the piece of shit toys I bought for the kids I'm sure I could fill up a warehouse.

Did Jeremy need the 3-foot Transformer I bought him when he was two? He was too small to even play with it, and by the time he could carry it around he didn't like Transformers anymore. Waste of time.  It's a waste of money too, money that I could have used on more important things...like yoga and purses. 

The dreaded list...I make one every year.  Jeremy, Grace, my mom, my grandparents, in-laws, friends, friend's of the kids, neighbors, co-workers, the teachers, the daycare teachers, every random gift exchange we have to buy for....the list goes on and on. I love the process of buying, wrapping, and giving the presents.  If I find you something I think you'll love, then I just go for it!  No pressure, no scanning prices, no worries...

I truly feel that if I can't give you a present that I think you'll LOVE, then I don't know you well enough and you shouldn't be on my list! If all I can think of is a gift card, well then you are probably getting banished from the list next year. And you should understand that as I expect the same thing.

Then add on ALL the charities that you MUST give money to or risk the eyes of "how dare you not give to _______  organization, what a bad person you are". Nobody ever considers when you say "NO" that you may have just given a donation to a different organization.  At work, we support the United Way...this time of year, they do 50/50 draws, pot lucks, gift donations, pay check deductions, BBQ's, and if you don't give money every single time you get looked at like you are Scrooge.  Please pay attention to how you treat the ones who say "No"....it takes a lot to say no....but I'm not saying no to charity, I'm saying no to that particular charity at that particular time.  I'm not cheap, I'm not selfish, or greedy....I just can't do it all, all of the time.  Or I'll be the next charity you are raising donations for!! Life's not cheap, especially around the holidays.

Ever notice that the pictures people post on facebook are typical the presents?  There's a shot of all the gifts wrapped up and placed under the tree.  But that's not enough, they must also line the couch, and stack the gifts as high as they'll go.  We must prove we love our children by making sure they are overwhelmed with presents.  The higher the presents, the more we love our kids.  Next comes the pictures of the kids opening all the presents.  Then there's the picture of the child in the middle of all their glorious gifts that Mommy and Daddy maxed out their credit cards for.  Then that's it...No pictures of family or friends, just presents, presents, and more presents.   Been there, done that...still paying off my credits cards from last year, and the year before, and the year before.  The toys are long gone and broken, but at least the kids knew we loved them lots that year!!

I just want to see my family and friends.  I do not want to be rushing in to the mall the week before Christmas just to grab you a gift card because I'm going to feel guilty if I don't get you something. I know I'm not the only one that feels that way, so why can't we say to each other....let's just forgo the gifts and hang out over coffee?

We've tried the "don't get us anything, cause we aren't getting you anything" speech, and that always backfires.  We show up, and go figure....there's a present.  Nothing like instant guilt and embarrassment.  Cookies, fine.  A handmade something or other, great.  But PLEASE don't buy me a present if we only see each other once a year on Christmas!!  The point of family and friends getting together should be to see each other, not rip open a few gifts, and then rush off to the next place to rip open a few more.  It's so hectic, and it's not authentic. 

I love decorating and wrapping gifts. I love pretending to have baking skills, only to have it turn into a complete disaster while the kids laugh their butts off at me. I like watching old Christmas movies.  I already have a few twinkly decorations and lights up because it's so pretty to look at.  I dim the lights, and play some music and sometimes just sit here and watch the glow of the lights on the tree.  I love the holidays and all it represents....not what Walmart says it represents, but what it ACTUALLY represents....

Christmas is not a time or a season but a state of mind. To cherish peace and good will, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas.

Just Breathe!

Last night's yoga class was a challenge for me.  First off, it's day 15 of the 30 day challenge and I made it to a whopping 5 classes!  Yay me!!  That's like 35%?  40%?.....Never mind, percentages are dumb.  Anyway, 5 classes.  Woot.  I was away for four days so I'm cutting myself some slack.  I knew from the get-go that the 30 classes wouldn't be attainable for me anyway as life just gets in the way.  I'm cool with five...actually, I did yoga with the kids tonight so technically it's six.  So yeah, I'm cool with six.

Then, here we go again......an actual, real-life yoga teacher right beside ME!!  I talked myself out of the "I'm super-uber-duper jealous" mindset, and decided I would embrace it. After all, the last time I was in a class with a yoga teacher I was actually more inspired than jealous.  I've come to learn it's ridiculous to be jealous of the yoga teachers.  That's what they are, of course they are going to be "better" than me...they live it, breath it, eat it.  Meanwhile I woof down a pack of timbits and wonder why I have a jiggly stomach. I also wonder why I do 10 sit ups and don't have a six-pack yet...maybe I should concentrate harder on the sit ups and less on the sweets!?

I suppose it's all part of the process but not a class goes by where I don't figure a little something out.  Whether it's lifting my knee caps, or figuring out how to do a flat back better (btw, pretend like you are gently placing your boobs on the floor...lead with your boobs!! Thanks Erica!).  I've learned that balancing your hips while in "Pigeon Pose" gives a much better stretch.  I learn all sorts of little tips, which is fantastic.  The problem is I try to use them all at the same time and then disaster strikes...

I'm in Eagle....ok, elbows out, chest proud, straight back....squat, squeeze, soft gaze....square off my hips, lift the right side, keep your core strong, don't fall over.....why am I shaking so much!?  Oh yeah....breath Wendy....BREATHE!!!

Warrior Two....lunge, square the hips, strong arms, soft gaze....lunge more, don't let the knee droop, don't lose the lunge!!.......man, my chest is pounding....oh yeah BREATHE!!!!!!!

See my problem...I concentrate on one thing, or five...and forget the most important parts!  Next thing you know I'm out of breath, trying not to die on the floor in front of all the skinny bitches, wondering if my heart is about to explode.

Between keeping my flat back, squared hips, and my clench-less ass....I'm mentally drained before I even get to the pose!

Last night Taylor had us focus on breathing...I love those classes where they actually remind and cue you to breathe.  Makes that hour so much better for me!  I love when we all breathe together, and it's just so energizing.  Now, if I can just get them to teach a class where they give me every single cue....

Wendy...let your butt cheeks go, Wendy...suck your stomach in, Wendy...lift your knee caps, Wendy..........OMG BREATH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She Strikes Again....

Like my FB page: http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Pigeon-Pose-Emotions/230206560392271

Day 6

Ma belle amie Estelle is back!!! And with that comes, of course, a tear-fest in yoga class, as well as a minor...major meltdown on my drive home.

I seriously don't know what the deal is. It's like she plans her intentions around me.  I wonder if she's somehow secretly recording my private thoughts and exploiting them in class??

Today, she talked about having faith in yourself.  Something I sort of lack.  It borders between low self-esteem and just a fear of moving forward.  I know I am capable of anything I set my mind to, but that little devil on my shoulder keeps saying "oooh, Wendy, it's gonna be too scary, step back, step back step back!!!"

I want to push forward with the doula training, yet I find myself questioning it everyday, can I really do it? Are people going to actually want me there?  What if I mess up or make things worse?  I know I could be flying through this, the quicker I finish the training the faster I can start to help.  But I doubt myself, so I stall....

I want to move, very badly, but then I go threw the what-ifs....the kids will have to change schools, what if they hate me for it? I'm treading lightly as it is because of the pre-teen raging hormones in this house.  I know, first hand, how affect you. I was in five different schools by the time I hit grade 5, it's stressful, and I do not want to do that to my children if I can avoid it. There's so much work involved in selling/buying, it's stressful, maybe I'll hate the new spot more, maybe it won't make anything better.

So, I do nothing. 

I think about how they say you have to take care of yourself before you can take care of others....like the oxygen mask on a plane, put yours on first.  But I feel like living for me first is something I can do when my kids are in college.  Maybe it would be just as good for them as me in the long run? I don't know...

It's a constant struggle of trying to make my family happy, yet making myself happy too.  I go to yoga and I feel guilty that I'm gone.  I stay home and I feel miserable about myself.

I want to be at yoga class every single day, it's just not the same doing it in the living room at home. It's so awesome to feel the energy of a full room, all our breaths synced as one.  In my living room it's more like a dog liking my foot or a child asking for a snack! So not the same atmosphere....

I know the guilt is foolish.  Like right now, one child is in the basement, and the other is outside playing. So what difference does it make if I'm here or at yoga? Either way, the only thing they need me for this afternoon will be a snack.   But I still rushed home from class today just in case. 

My life revolves around the kids, as it should. But sometimes I just wish my kids would revolve around me!!

I fall into these ruts of being overwhelmed. There is so much laundry, the dishes need to be done, supper is late, the dog needs to be walked, I'm trying to figure out how to get to yoga, and maybe, just maybe I can manage to do some studying. But nope...I implode and end up doing none of it anyway. I try to stay home on nights my husband will be early, but even that backfires because he's burned out as much as I am and is usually asleep before the kids are.

Self-destruction, yep. Procrastination, most definitely.   Self-doubt, likely.....I dunno, maybe? Yes?  No? :-0

I even selfishly kept them out of afterschool activities until the new year so I can get my act together. But now, December is closing in and I feel no farther ahead!  Ah, then the stress-load of Christmas.  A holiday that is meant (for me) to be about spending time with friends and family, turns into a Christmas list the size of my arm, panic over what to buy, and how much to spend.  Yay! Fun!  I can't wait....

So, anyway, back to my sob-fest..........I went to class already feeling down. I'm not even flat on my back yet and there's a tear running down my face.  Then Estelle starts talking about having faith and I was like "SERIOUSLY"???  Does she live in my head?

I have no faith in my self today, I wish I did, I know someday I will but this morning I had none.  I know there are changes in my life that need to happen, and I know it's going to be tough, and what I really needed this morning was a gigantic hug and an "it's going to be ok".  Well, I may not have received a physical hug today, I did receive an emotional one from her words.  Again, like they were directed right at me. Tears rolled down my face as this beautiful song about keeping your faith played.  It was like the universe was saying "You will be fine".

So maybe it's just a PMS day, or maybe an actually A-HA moment, but on my drive home I cried, and cried, and cried, and it wasn't a pity party.  It was a complete moment of clarity, knowing that there will be days when my world feels like it's collapsing, but that doesn't mean I should give up. It means I should try harder to prove to myself on a daily basis that I am worth it.  I am worth MY time, I am worth a missed supper or two, I am worth telling the kids "Sorry, mommy's busy!". 

I tried to not go into the ugly-cry, I hope I kept it quiet.  Though one of these days I'm going to be crazy-psycho-crying-sobbing-girl if she keeps up these "moments" in class.

And to the girl behind me in class, who cried as well....I think you got it too.

Doggy Daycare

We, as a family, decided last year that we would get a pooch.  We knew right away we weren't going to buy a dog, too many pets in this world already. So we started on kijiji, looking for a free dog.  This resulted in either 10yr old dogs, or dogs with obvious issues. 

Next was the SPCA, but at the time there were no suitable dogs (to abused to be around kids), and I'm not the type to wait around for the dog that calls our name.  I'm not picky, I just wanted a dog!! 

I happened to stumble on an ad about adopting a Greyhound.  Hmmm, they are cool looking, and different....lets check this out!

I called them up, submitted my application, and arranged for a home-visit with a sample greyhound to see how the kids would like it. They showed up, and I swear it was almost like this breed was meant for us!! They sleep more than babies, need very little exercise, a moderate amount of walking, and they are (usually) very well mannered. 

Perfect!! Sign us up!

We got to choose between two greyhounds.  A female, all black, VERY hyper!  Then, a boy, white and brown, a shy amputee (missing a toe!), who clung to Todd's side.  The decision was very easy. We wanted the boy, he seemed so loving, and was very mild mannered.

Meet Junior....aka WW Junior Mint, an ex-racer from the states.

That was last October.  Over a year we've had the dog, and you want to know what I know now!?  Yes, he sleeps all day, and yes he is very mild mannered....until you take up too much room on the couch for his liking, or until you try to move your leg that his 80lbs of body is laying on while you try to sleep.  Then he turns into psycho dog, who whines and growls, and shows you how mad he is by shitting on the floor when you tell him to get down!

His farts clear a room, he won't leave the garbage alone, he hyper-ventilates when he's upset (seriously).  He jumps all over you, eats all the cat food, his nails are freakishly sharp, he knows zero commands, and looks at you like a spazz when you call his name.  Oh, and for the record when the adoption agency says "Oh yeah, he knows his name".....don't necessarily believe them.

He doesn't like being around other dogs, his attention span is like 3.2 seconds, he plays for all of two minutes and then sleeps for 4 hours and I'm pretty sure he has irritable bowel.  He follows me everywhere, and waits outside the bathroom door. He's very sensitive, and his feelings get hurt easily. He is mentally-defective.....and I wouldn't have it any other way.  He fits in quite well with my screwed up family!

He's quite funny, he's really pretty, he doesn't mind smaller crowds but hates big ones, he sleeps on his back with his tongue hanging out and he loves to have be rubbed...hmm, sounds familiar!!

Sure, I wish he didn't crap on the floor, and that maybe he'd actually stay when I asked him too, but I also know that it's not his fault either.   We know he has "issues", but most of the time it's not on our priority list to correct them.  I try to teach him stuff, but I'm not consistent.  It's hard to scold him for pooping when most of the time we don't catch him in the act. 

He's like living with a full-time toddler, that's never, ever going to grow up. He's only five, so we probably still have at least another five years of the terrible-twos!

In comes Doggy Daycare!!  Just like when my children were toddlers, I love him....but sometimes you just need a break from them from time to time. Unfortunately, it's not like I can send him off to a friend's house for a play date for a few hours.  He's here, ALL THE TIME....who knew a dog was such a big responsibility?!!? 

He can't be leashed outside, so he has to be walked....and he pees, a lot.  During the week, it's about 4 times a day he goes out, maybe 5 or 6 if he wasn't walked long enough.  Some days it feels like my life revolves around a peeing dog.

The walking has turned into such an ordeal around here.  The weekday schedule is pretty consistent.  Todd in the morning, Jeremy after school, Grace after supper, and me before bed.  This shifts around sometimes, but overall it's ok. The issue is weekends.  Who wants to get up at his regularly scheduled morning pee at 7am??  We sleep until about 8:30 or 9am but nobody told the dog that!  Then we are around all day so he thinks that means more walks than usual.  Sometimes it's every hour that he wants to go out.  And "someone"....fine ME, foolishly taught him how to bark when he wants to go out (he's not all spazz)....so he's a built-in alarm clock.   It's a constant fight of "it's not my turn".

Weekends are wild, with no structure. The kids are in and out. Sometimes they are gone for hours, other times there are so many kids here that I'm pretty sure I violate fire codes or somethings.  We come and go all day which leads to complete chaos for the dog. He doesn't handle stress very well so this turns into LOTS of walks so he doesn't relieve himself in frustration on my floor.  But...unless I manage to catch the kids while they are free, I either end up fighting with the kids or I end up walking him a gazillion times and it drives me nuts. 

I knew Todd would be away for the weekend, I knew the kids would be out most of it too, and I was dreading having to deal with him all frickin' weekend by myself. I just want one day of peace!! 

So I did it, I booked him in the kennel for no reason other than I wanted to be selfish.  He's been to the kennel before, but only for when we are going to PEI.  He likes it there so there's no guilt of leaving him.  But this time I sort of felt bad, knowing I'd be dropping him off and then just coming home to lay on the couch and watch TV all weekend!

I figured I'd drop him off this morning, and pick him up in the AM.  A nice little break for Mommy!  When I dropped him off, I was told that pickup tomorrow is only from 5-6pm because it's a weekend.  WOOO HOOO!!!!  Now I basically get all of Sunday too!  I'm not sure what to do with myself.  No dog looking at me like he just lost his best friend. He's not fighting me for space on the couch.  I'm not yelling at him to get out of the garbage, or the cat food, and I don't have him following me around everywhere!

It reminds me of when I'd drop the kids off to Mom for a night or two...the utmost joy of having ZERO responsibility for the day was practically orgasmic. Since the kids pretty much do what they want on the weekends, my only responsibility today is to feed them supper which is ok, because I have to eat too!!  I may even do a load of laundry or two to make sure I did SOMETHING productive this weekend.  Ahhhh....freedom, you are mine again!!   Until Sunday night at least...

Rule #1 - NEVER get a dog because you think your kids will love it and spend all kinds of time with them. It WILL backfire on you, and you will forever be stuck with the responsibilities of the dog.

Rule #2 - When you have foolishly ignored my Rule#1, and are now stuck with a dog that drives you loco, invest in some good doggy daycare!!

Rule #3 - Even on the worst days, when your dog drives you nuts, they always give you a reason to laugh....

Occupy Wendy

Day 1 of my new weight loss challenge...I'm not calling it a "diet", those suck.  It's two shakes a day and a reasonable meal.  Plus snacks.  (It's Body By Vi, and if you want to know more, FB me or leave a comment with your email address)

The shakes are frickin awesome!! Seriously.  The shake mix smells like cake mix (delish!!), and you can mix it with anything so the options are limitless....like "Iced Cap" or "Creamcicle".  AMAZEBALLS!!!

Seeing as I like to win, I've set my sights LOW....lose 15 pounds before Christmas.  This should be easy-enough as I'm also doing a 30 day yoga challenge in November. That's only like _____lbs a week (I hate math, you figure it out).  If I can't lose fifteen pounds by then...well forget it, hand me some ice cream, give me the remote, then shoot me in the face cause I will officially give up.

Poor planning on my part that the same day I decided to start my challenge was the same day as our Halloween Potluck at work.  I knew I wouldn't exactly be off to a great start, but I figured a shake for breakfast, a shitty lunch, and then a shake for supper was better than a shitty breakfast and a shitty lunch, followed by a shitty-er supper.  Plus I sort of behaved at the potluck....not really, but I only had one little tiny piece of cake, and left the rest of the desserts alone....except one cookie, but really, other than that I was good.

As part of the challenge, I have to weight myself (ughh), and take measurements...I'm gonna take a stab in the dark and just admit that it's likely not 36-24-36. I won't even lie either, this is going to be truthful, unlike my driver's license, work ID, or anything else that I either have to put weight (135lbs...ha!), height (5'8"...in my dreams), or my clothing size (XS of course).  I used to be all of that...well except the height, no matter how hard I wished it.  The whole "it's baby weight" excuse just doesn't fly anymore considering my youngest is nine!

We all know by now that the number on the scale really isn't what matters.  You take into consideration your height, your BMI (shudder), your overall body structure.  I was blessed to have my hips shoot out when I got pregnant.  (Good for the birth, bad for the pants size)...so regardless of how much weight I ever lose I know I'll never be a size 5 again (sigh). 

But regardless of what I know....it's still not easy.  Some mornings I wake up and think...hmm, I'm not that bad, I have a belly and thick thighs, but I can still pull it off.  Then other mornings I'm so disgusted with myself that I literally sit there, in front of the mirror and just mentally rip myself to shreds. Somedays I feel like I have a 'normal' body, somedays I feel like a beached whale.  It doesn't take much to flip the switch, a random comment or trying on a pair of pants that don't quite fit.  I get frustrated because I'm sort of in between sizes so it's hard to find clothes that fit.  It's not like you can go into a store and just be the same size in everything.  Oh, hell no....that would way tooooo complicated for designers to get their shit together and just go with one size.  

All those skinny-bitch stores run small to make you feel like crap, and the fat-people stores run big to make you feel less fat.  Either way...you still feel bad because the skinny bitches are all running around in the clothes you want, and the fat people are all wearing ugly clothes because apparently decent designers don't like fat people wearing their clothes.

Reitmans...ever take a look at the clothes in the skinny-bitches section and then go look at the plus-size section???  NONE of the clothes are the same.  Why can't they make the same stuff just bigger??  That's not even a good example because Reitmans is pretty reasonable.
Smart Set, Ricki's, Garage.........they don't even make sizes to fit me.  Like I'm a gigantic blob....those stores, right from the get-go tell me I'm too fat to shop there. It's not like I'm obese...I'm just overweight, and technically not even by that much.  I can go to the mall, with like a gazillions stores, and my choices are old-lady, or Old Navy. 

Then you see all those poor 'chunky' teenagers trying to stuff their asses in to pants too small, and shirts too tight....because "society" says "You MUST shop at THIS store to be cool". Muffin tops are every where!!   I can only imagine how it feels to be an over weight teenager in a mean world of bullying.  I was a skinny bitch in high school and I just pray that I never, ever, ever made anyone feel bad because of their sizes.  I know I was a mean girl and said and did some bitchy things...but if I only knew what I know then...

I wish I had the power to start my own Occupization...lol, I don't think that's a word?!  But I would occupy all skinny-bitch stores until they made normal, consistent sizes for all of us!!

For now, I will occupy my own self-esteem...no more hiding, no more lying, no more pretending. It's just time to lose some weight!!  (And not just because society says so).

So begins Occupy Wendy:

The mission.....to no longer hide anything. Listed below you will find my ACTUAL weight, and measurements...no rounding-down. 

The goal....to remove the stigma from all us "fat" girls...I'm not proud of what I weight, but I will no longer be ashamed.

26 Oct 11:
Height - 5'6
Weight - 187lbs
Chest - 36.5"
Waist - 38"
Hips - 46.5"

BMI: 30

A work in progress....

 

I Wish My Mom Was Like That...

For those of you who know my daughter, you know that she has quite the personality.  For those who don't, she's very sarcastic, funny, and has developed her own "self" very nicely.  This often gets her trouble as those who aren't familiar with this type of attitude typically take it the wrong way. Plus she walks the fine line of right place/wrong place for displaying this type of humor.

I've had numerous conversations with her and have tried to explain (over and over again) that most people don't get her sense of humor, and that she comes across as having a bad attitude.  Either you get it and like it, or you don't.  So, there are a few teachers at the daycare that laugh at her, and others who run to me every single time she does or says something even remotely off the mark.

There's one teacher in particular that feels the need to report to me on every wrong move that she makes.  I totally get that you are not the disciplinarian but at the same time, what ever happened to saying "Please stop".  If you are going to let her act up all afternoon and not do anything about it then how is she ever going to get that she has to listen to you. I don't see the point of grounding her or yelling at her for one comment she made 7 hours ago.  Plus every child has off days, and I don't feel like hers are any more or less than any other child.  It's maybe once every few months that she's seriously spoken to by the leader of the daycare.  Other than that it's just "Oh she was great today", or "She seemed a little tired"....Nothing to be rushing to the therapist about.  Even on the "bad" days its usually that she was playing with some boys and they all got out of hand. It's never just her, it's never just them, it's a bad combo of the group dynamic.  They shouldn't play together, but what does the daycare let them do?!  Ah, yes....let's them play together!

So yesterday I go get her, and I'm told that she has a not so good day. Apparently she was acting up, again with previously mentioned boys, and when one of the teachers said they should stop as they wouldn't want to upset their mothers, one boy says "Mine doesn't care about stuff like this"....to which my lovely parrot daughter says "Yeah, mine neither".  BAH!!!  Guess again child....

I walk around the corner to find all four kids, probably plotting their next moves.  I say "I hear you had a bad day", she says "uh huh", I say "Any particular reason why all four of you feel the need to act this way??", the boys look down and she says "No, not really".  So I say, "No Family Bingo for you tonight" (At the school).  She starts to cry, and walks out of the building to the car.  I hear one of the boys say "I wish my mom was like that"......HUH!?!?  Like what?! Friggin little boys with attitudes...I can't wait to hear what sarcastic response he has....

As expected, another boy says "What do you mean?".  Well....the boy says "My mother would have just screamed at me all the way home instead of just talking to me".  *BREAKING HEART*

Now it all comes rushing back to me...A few weeks ago, there was a mom who practically threw a kid in the car, squealed out of the parking lot, and was screaming at the top of her lungs the whole time.  I went right in, and reported to the manager what had just happened and told her I was concerned for the child.  As far as I'm concerned, if you're willing to do that in public...you're willing to do worse when nobody is looking. Not only was she a danger to her child by driving erratically but she was also endangering any one else she came in contact with.  The manager said she was aware of the situation, and that the boy had just gotten in trouble. She didn't feel the mother was "that type", but she would make sure to check on the boy the next day.  Turned out everything was fine, by fine I mean no broken bones or (visible) bruises. 

Now, lord knows I've been known to scream once or twice...or twenty times.  But really? Raging like that because he misbehaved...seems like there are bigger problems in that household?

I feel so bad for kids in those situations.  I don't ever recall being SCREAMED at as a child.  Teenager, yes...but wow, I deserved all of that!!  I try to reserve my screaming for dangerous situations, or situations that could turn dangerous.  Like she tells me she's going to a friend's house and I find her at the park...I will yell at her and give her a stranger-danger lecture.  It seems that sometimes you need a good scream to really get through to them.   But because he had a bad day...no.

I know, in our house, most of the time it's my fault she's cranky anyway.  Maybe I let her stay up late to finish a movie, or she was too rushed in the morning. I know her buttons, and when pushed she can be wild!  Some days it doesn't take much, and yes she should be accountable, but I really don't see how screaming at her will make things better. Usually, the louder the conversation the more she kids, the angrier I get, the louder she cries. It's an emotional roller coaster and I don't want to ride it so it's one simple "Go to your room until you calm down"...and we take it from there.  That option works so well for us. It's very open-ended and she gets to decide when she's feeling better.  If I say go to your room for 10 minutes, well maybe after 10 minutes she's still a total biatch and we are no further ahead.  Making it her choice can sometimes result in a five minute breather and she comes downstairs ready to help with supper. Other times it may be that she just gets distracted reading a book and I don't see her for an hour. 

Then there's the times that she falls asleep and it's four hours later and I forget where my kid is and have a mini-panic attack and then realize she's still upstairs...