Mourning What Was Never There

I always longed for it; those giant holiday gatherings where everyone got along, ate and drank merrily, and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. I was surrounded by "those families" in my friend circle, and always had twangs of jealous energy about it. As the holidays approached, I would turn to materialism by focusing on my extravagant Christmas list, and also paid close attention to my parents and whether or not they have been fighting. I'll never forget those Christmas mornings where the first thing I would do was silently hold up both fists and lock eye contact with my dad - my way of asking if him and mom were arguing. I'll never forget feeling somewhat disappointed when the spoiled brat in me didn't get every single item on my list, and then feeling worse after my post-present call to my childhood best friend to share what we opened; she always got more. I'll never forget how bored I felt watching TV in the other room or desperately going online to see if someone - anyone - was on AOL instant messenger, while the adults gathered in the Big Room. When no one was online, I felt even more down, knowing they were probably participating in games and conversations with their family, while I simply waited for the next "moment" of the day to unfold, like dinner and dessert, which I'm sure I whined about endlessly.

As I got older, my parents got divorced and my grandparents passed away. Now, instead of having us all together (a time I wish I appreciated when it was here), holidays were now split in two. Having a child young with someone I didn't love certainly didn't give me the opportunity to pave the way for better holidays on my own, and marrying someone with divorced parents turned our two-holiday event into four. Instead of being able to engulf myself in what I did have and fully experience this time of year for all that it could be, I moped. I asked myself why we couldn't be more like x, y, or z. I got angry at what I didn't have. I loved gatherings with certain family members and dreaded it with others. I found myself constantly wishing things were different; that this person could control their drinking and word vomit, or that that person would engage in conversation other than themselves for 5 minutes. Our families grew, which only added new personalities and dynamics to an already chaotic cluster fuck. I tried to hard to act all uppity, but it's hard when you're constantly trying to fit into a mold of a family that is not yours. I didn't have that family. I didn't share those relationships, that closeness, and most important - no amount of effort on my end would change any of this. And I had wasted years trying.

I had no choice but to accept it for what it was: annoying, abnormal, dramatic, draining, and disappointing. I had to say these negative, hurtful things aloud in order to mourn the loss of the family I'll never have. I had to clear out these heavy feelings that took up so much precious space and energy in order to make room for the positives. I simply had no choice but to accept. I had to accept people for who they were, self absorbed, opinionated, dramatic and all. I had to accept our family's different dynamics, and appreciate it for what it is. I had to learn to say no to traveling 4 different times per holiday, and not to worry about other people's opinions on the matter. The more I accepted, the less negative I felt. I didn't have to like certain situations or even certain traits in people, but I could accept it. In fact, that turned into my little holiday mantra: "I don't have to like it, but I can accept it".

The more room I left for positivity, the more I was flooded with it. For every negative thought or emotion I was able to clear out, it was replaced with something good. I even found that I was able to look back and have a different perspective on my childhood holidays. Instead of picturing myself bored in the computer room, I was able to remember the magic of Christmas morning; the stockings that were filled to the brim, the abundance of gifts under the tree, the holiday music, Christmas lights and burning wood stove that my dad left on all night, anticipating my early waking; anxiously staring out the window for the site of my grandparent's car pulling up, begging for the 2nd round of gifts, and always being the first done dinner with hopes that it meant earlier dessert. All of these wonderful memories were clouded with negativity of yearning for something different, when I had something so joyous the whole time.

Comparison can be evil. If I had not cared what other families were doing, or zoning in on how complicated mine was, I would have been able to be more present and experience so much more. It takes a lot of work. Even this holiday season, years into my practice of self-love, acceptance of others, and being present, I still found myself feeling overwhelmed by how different I wanted things to be. I wanted my family to be here on Christmas. It angered me that few people within our families get along. I was upset that my husband has to work both Christmas Eve and Day. I craved time with my daughters and yet booked us solid for the next few weeks with gatherings and celebrations. I filled myself with annoyance, anger, disappointment, and sadness. Then, I remembered how much I missed out on before because of these exact negative emotions, and I made a shift. The holidays (as is the same with everyday) are what you make it. If I view them as negative annoyances, then they shall be. But, if I accept the fact that people are going to be who they are, like it or not, and know that I'm only wasting my energy trying to change them or wish them differently, then how I view my holidays is up to me. I can still make a choice to be fully present with my husband in the time he is here, and relish in those teeny, beautiful faces of our daughters on Christmas morning. I can prepare myself for those tough personalities I will encounter, and laugh with myself when situations arise thinking "ha, there's so-and-so just being so-and-so".

Going through this mental change truly did make me feel like I mourned a loss; I had to let go of who I wanted people to be, how I expected things to unfold, and just let life be. This quote from Adventures For Your Soul helped ground me in this experience: "We can look at events in our life and see them as problems that hinder us and keep us from what we want, or we can choose to see them as opportunities for growth. We can surround our problems with love". I didn't have to have these "problems" because in reality, by wishing so hard for change, I created the problem myself. There never needed to be one. Everyone is who they are, and the only person I have control over is me. I don't have to react, I can respond. I don't have to wish, I can accept. I can view every annoyance as opportunity, and I can clear out the negative to leave more room for the positive. In the end, how my holidays go is just up to me, and in realizing that, I have a new overwhelming gratitude for what I do have.

Life Lessons

Life has been teaching me a lot lately. Life, itself, has proven to be this endless cycle of change, reaction to change, and learning who you are over and over again. With every change, there is choice; we have the ability to either respond or react, and with each choice, we learn a little more about who the hell we really are. The choices that come naturally and leave us feeling at ease and confident help ground us in who we are and what we believe. Those choices that feel uncomfortable, forced, or fake create awareness of who we don't want to be, and present us with the perfect opportunity to reroute to our true selves.

Awareness is everything. The ability to check in with myself and acknowledge how I am feeling, why I am feeling that way, and choosing to accept or redirect myself gives me the ultimate control of my own life. Literally, everything is a choice. Being aware of those choices and giving myself the power to make them fills my day with endless opportunity.

The biggest lesson I have learned is that I can always counter a negative thought with something positive. It's a worn out statement, but true, that you can always find the good within the bad. I choose to be happy and therefore need to be conscious of my thoughts and redirect them when they slide down the slippery slope of negativity. It's so easy to get caught up in all that goes wrong, but it's also so easy to counter that thought with things that are going right. My mood will drastically change if I go from being upset with my husband for the sink full of dishes, to acknowledging that he made the bed that day. I can be down about the rainy weather, or find opportunity for indoor crafts with my daughters. I can feel lazy about taking a rest day, or remind myself how good it is for my body. By constantly having these counter thoughts, I create my own happiness. I am able to fill myself with gratitude because my energy isn't being wasted acting pissy. Negativity feels like shit - you're tense, your mind churns those thoughts over and over, you get more upset, you drag other people into your Debbie-downer bubble because misery loves company, and then what? No matter who you go to, it's your problem to fix because it's all in your head. Your thoughts are your choice, so choose wisely.

Another major life lesson has been about friendships. I've learned that a good friendship takes an honest look at two things: the kind of friend you need in your life, and the kind of friend you are able to be to others. Sometimes these truths are hard, but mostly I have found them empowering. It's allowed me to let go of long term friendships that have been dwindling since high school, and also to strengthen the ones that have lasted. This is just another way of gaining control of your life. Friendships, though seemingly effortless, do in fact take work. They occupy your thoughts, they are incorporated in your desire for balance, they need attention and tending to, and so on. All of these things require energy, and it's important that your energy is well spent. The more wisely I have chosen my friendships and the effort I put into them, the better friend I have become. And, my awareness of how others disperse their time, effort, and energy into a friendship confirms that my efforts are worth while. I am fortunate to have a variety of friendships, some that have lasted my entire life, some since middle or high school, and others that came about in my adult life. All have such different dynamics, and help shape me to be a better person - and call me out on my shit otherwise.

And then, there's other ways that making the positive choice has changed me for the better. Like choosing to be happy for my husband when he's doing something for himself; I can now see that it makes him happy, and his happiness is my happiness - rather than being bitter about long lifting sessions or a night out with a friend. Or choosing to view the dog's barking as a form of loyal protection instead of a loud annoyance. Or choosing to turn up the music and dance through the chore list with the kids instead of griping over all that needs to be done. The mind is a truly powerful tool, and creating these countering-habits for more glass-half-full views has only strengthened the person I am, and what's even better? I only needed myself to do so.

50 F#%@ing Miles

"I did it", I said aloud, "I just ran 50 miles". I ran onto the field behind that school for the 4th and final time after 9 and a half hours of running. I didn't know whether to be excited about my accomplishment or kick myself for my stupidity. I caught the eyes of my father, husband and best friend who were all clapping wildly. "H O L Y  S H I T" were my final words during that race as I took those last few steps through the gate and over the chip reader, followed by a flood of thoughts consisting of "fuck THAT" "never again" and "I can't believe I just did that".

Backtrack several months when I was persuaded to even sign up for this thing. I had participated in the marathon last year, and really enjoyed it. You can't beat running through the trails on a crisp fall day with great friends, being supported by amazing volunteers who did everything from offer you ibuprofen to cook you bacon. Trails are such a different animal than the pavement, and didn't leave my body quite so beat up. In fact, after I finished the two loops to equal a marathon, I remember thinking that I could have gone in for another loop and kept my wonderfully crazy friend Patty company for some of her 50 mile race - which she had done several times before. Well, apparently I had stated this silly thought out loud because months later when it was time for sign ups - she remembered. And I, remembering how good I felt, scrolled right past the "marathon" option and checked off the "50 mile" bubble.

Race day arrived as it inevitably would. I spent the week before facing the reality of what I've got myself into: this is nearly double anything I have ever run before. The thought of being 25 miles in and only half way done was terrifying. Patty and I gathered at the start (at that point excited to start since it was an uncomfortable 28 degrees), head lamps on in the pitch black, we were summoned to start and took off into the woods for the first of 4 loops.

The first loop was nearly silent. Dozens of runners tried to find their footing over loose rocks, roots and leaves in the narrow trail. Glow sticks and orange ribbon dangling from random branches lead the way. The pace was painfully slow and I couldn't wait for the sun to rise so I could see where the hell I was going and pick it up a bit - the less time out here the better, I thought to myself. At one point, a runner said "2 miles in" and I had two thoughts: it already feels like an hour, and we have 48 left to go.

The second loop was hell. The number of miles conquered verses the number of miles remaining was a crippling thought. My hips wouldn't stop reminding me of the stress I was putting on my body. The aid stations were a bitter sweet time knowing that I could take a break to sip ginger ale and stretch, but needed to get back out there before getting too comfortable. I was relieved to see my dad and his wife waiting towards the end of that loop - but was also very aware that their appearance marked the dreaded 25 mile and "only" half way mark. When I reached the field, I was envious of my girlfriend Lynn who ran the marathon and was done; all snuggled up in dry, warm clothes, ready for rest and alcoholic beverages, and Patty and I still had 2 loops to go.

Patty and I avoided each other like the plague in the weeks leading up to the race, simply to have something to talk about for 9 hours. Lucky for me, during that time she went on her honeymoon and I refused to hear anything about it before race day. We shared stories that make me fortunate trees can't talk, and left it all out there in unfiltered honesty. This was certainly one of those runs that does more justice than therapy. I watched us both learn new things about ourselves and each other, and grow closer in the process. Thank goodness for all of this, because it got me through those first four and a half hours.

The best piece of advice I got was from my friend and ultra marathon runner Sheryl, who told me to make sure I go in for the 3rd loop and I was sure to finish. She was right - entering the woods for the 3rd time made the countdown more tolerable. I was now more than halfway done, and knowing that we only had to do this one more time after this was mentally satisfying. Physically, however, was another story, when an unfamiliar pain plagued my upper calf and behind my knee. I popped an extra ibuprofen and trekked on, more than happy to walk the hills and stretch when I needed. The fatigue at this point was unreal - but in some sick way I was actually excited to be this challenged by running, which prior to this race had always been somewhat easy for me. Every step got me that much closer, and the thought that my husband might be there at the end of this loop gave me something to look forward to.

Onto the field for the 3rd time, no site of my husband. My knee was feeling better but my stomach was a disaster - downing energy gels, chugging electrolyte water, and getting in bites of oatmeal and bananas for the last 37 miles was taking it's toll. I wanted so badly to be done; I had a new mileage PR, would be considered an ultra marathoner, and could walk away satisfied. At that moment I was informed that my husband had arrived - it was all I needed. I ran (more likely waddled) up to him and burst into tears the moment we were wrapped in each other. "This is SO hard!" I blubbered. No idea where the water works came from, but I guess that's what 7+ hours of running and a little ibuprofen buzz will do to you. A few more bites of oatmeal, a "let's do this" and a high-five from Patty, and we painfully took off for the 4th and final time.

5 miles to the first aid station, then only 7 more to go. I felt my stomach pains worsen with every step of that 4th loop. For someone who doesn't tolerate dairy, wheat or soy, my stomach felt as if I had just devoured an ice cream cone topped with breadcrumbs and edamame, It was the most sick I have ever felt. Trees became bathrooms and my mind was tunnel visioned to the aid stations where I could get my next fix of ginger ale. Nothing helped but the thought of finishing. As terrible as I felt, I picked up the pace. I wanted to be done. The last 4 miles between the 2nd aid station and the finish were my fastest of all. I passed people left and right, dodging into the woods when needed. I was willing to nearly sprint after running 45+ miles than be out there one minute longer than I needed to be. Things in the woods started to look familiar, giving me hope I was close to the end. I picked up the pace even more. A little delirious and simply ecstatic to be so close, I started saying goodbye to certain rocks ans trees I recognized. "Last time I'll be seeing you! So long! I'm outta here! Never again!"

And I never will do that again, but I did it. I ran 50 fucking miles.

My Backwards Life

Bass-ackwards; this is how society views the unfolding of my life's events. The "norm" of college, career, love, marriage, house and children didn't quite go that way for me. Pregnant by someone I didn't love, an ectopic pregnancy by someone I did, married when living in a tiny apartment and working for minimum wage at the YMCA, having a 2nd child, developing my massage career and then purchasing a house certainly was not the way my childhood self would have dreamed. Admittedly, it all worked out for the better, and I couldn't care less about what society thinks about that - but it took a while for me to get over the judgement. 

One thing I do feel like I missed out on was the experience of these monumental events in my life. A lot of what makes pregnancy and a wedding so exciting is found in the ability to share this excitement with others. Because, being 19 and in a new relationship, I didn't exactly receive cheers of congratulations with my pregnancy announcement, or when I was 22 and engaged to Eric after only 4 months of dating, you can imagine how people expressed concern more than joy. I tried to engulf myself in these experiences despite what others may have felt, because no matter what, they were happening to me. 

I embraced motherhood at 20 years old, trading 2am frat parties for diaper changes and breastfeeding. I later moved away from home with Eric and began to plan a wedding in this totally new, weird, limbo part of my life; I didn't have a wave of new college friends like many of my high school friends did, and it was hard for me to develop new friends in this unfamiliar town since most people my age didn't rock a diaper bag and one year old on their coffee dates. Our wedding was so not us. We got married in a church, I wore a gown from David's Bridal, we invited high school friends we hadn't seen or talked to in months, and though we didn't care much for detail which allowed the planning to be quick and painless, I can't help but look back and wish things were different. 

It may have only been 5 years since our wedding, but our lives - including who we are - have changed tremendously. People I'd now consider my best friends I didn't even know when I got married. Two of the people in our wedding party, including my husband's best man, aren't in our lives at all anymore. We were lucky to have had the ability to include Lyla in our special day, but now we have our beautiful Hannah. I can only imagine the flood of support, excitement, and love that would occur if we were to have a do-over wedding in our new lives. And I wouldn't be caught dead in a wedding gown. 

I've always thought it was a little corny for people to renew their vows; we get it: you're married, you still love each other, and now you're milking it for a bonus party and gifts. But now that I see how much can change over the years, the friendships we now cherish deeply, the growth of our children and acceptance of those surrounding us - this thought seems less like a greedy excuse for a party and more like a necessary celebration of success with those we love. 

I'm proud of the fact that I veared from the "normal" path in life and was still able to find my way. I found love, I developed a career I'm passionate about, I created two little humans, I have friends who support and inspire me, and it all worked out; despite the fact that it was out of order, despite the negative assumptions of others, and despite the fact that I feel I missed out on the thrill of it all, I arrived where I am today regardless. I look forward to one day celebrating a vow renewal with those who also missed out, and being able to experience that overflow of joy that I thought I deserved years ago. And for now, I have quite the story to reflect back on as a reminder of how far I've come, "bass-ackwards" or not. 

Keep Challenging

Today, I was challenged with an injury. Not only was it challenging in a physical sense because I was suddenly immobile, had to reschedule clients, and bounced between ice on the couch and easy steps on the treadmill, but it shed light on challenges I thought I was doing better with. 

My alarm sound at 5:30, giving me my precious hour of coffee, reading and writing before heading out for a run or out to the garage for some lifting. With my husbands work schedule as crazy as its been, he was forced to stay for 3rd shift, which made this morning an automatic running-rest day for me. I sipped away next to a dessert scented candle, thinking about what exercises I'd put myself through shortly after. I closed my book, tossed back my last sip of coffee, pulled my knee sleeves on, and went out to the garage. Bench press and high pulls to start, sounded good! 10 sounded like a solid number of reps for today - lets do this. Oh, what's that? Sudden sharp pain in my back? Huh, that's weird. Guess I won't be finishing out the 4-5 sets I had hoped to complete. After taking a few steps and feeling my back grow increasingly stiff, my mind shifted from exercise to work. "Well, this is going to be uncomfortable today" I adorably thought to myself just before the pain grew so much that I suddenly found myself stuck in the garage; kids asleep, husband still at work, barbells and weights everywhere. Shit! It took a while but I managed to get myself back into the house and on top of an ice pack, after spilling several cubes onto the floor and laughing at the fact that there was nothing I could do about it. Doctors orders: ice for 15 minutes. Done. Went to get up to excitedly wake Lyla for her first day of school...nope. Stuck, once again. Double shit! I sent tiny Hannah to her sister's room with orders to "kindly" wake her, while I lay like a lump on the couch until my husband finally arrived home to help me up. I took this opportunity to admit that I may not be working today (or the next day for that matter), and apologetically messaged several clients. 

The day was spoken for me: Heat, walk, self massage, gentle stretch, ice, repeat. Trying to be the glass-half-full kind of lady I typically am, I first tried to reason with this silly but extremely painful injury; maybe I needed it to appreciate the long runs to come, since I've done nothing but dread and complain about them. Maybe it was a sign to slow down. Maybe it happened to get me out of my comfort zone of work and forcibly cancel clients, which I've only ever done once before when I was fever ridden and stuck in bed. Or, it's quite possible it happened to make me come face to face with what I struggle with the most. 

I went from "glass half full" to trying to appreciate there being anything in my glass at all.

Mentally, I fought myself all day. I was instructed to walk in order to keep moving and avoid prolonged sitting, which I happily committed to since I couldn't shake the "bad" feeling of an incomplete work out this morning. It was nothing strenuous, seeing how I was barely able to walk in the first place, but I hobbled onto the treadmill 5 different times and walked a painfully slow mile each time. I'd be lying if I said that it was entirely geared towards what's best for my back - I played with the speed (though didn't get far before stabbing pains made that decision for me) and the incline because, hey, I wanted to do the most I could within reason. Once I realized what I was doing, or rather, how I was thinking, I said to myself out loud "I really suck at rest days" - and I do. 

As I continued my walking pattern throughout the day, I fell more in love with running and longed for this pain to go away. Feelings of jealousy bubbled up knowing close friends got their miles in, and fear of being stuck like this was a crippling thought. Everything I ate or drank throughout the day was stained orange by turmeric, which I added in generous amounts to naturally help with inflammation. I just wanted to be better! 

And then unhealthy food thoughts emerged. Now that I didn't get to exercise, I had to watch what I ate more than ever. It didn't help that a few nights before I allowed myself to eat "normal" at a wedding by picking at the food served instead of packing my own, and polishing it off with not one but two slices of wedding cake - there was chocolate and vanilla, I mean, I had to try them both! Initially, I did well with this decision. I felt in control of my disordered, over-thinking eating because, at that moment, I was able to rid of the guilt. The cake was insanely delicious and I enjoyed having it, I even embraced the all-day belly I sported the next day as my gut's reaction. However, what I didn't realize is that letting go of the guilt came with strings attached, and they were attached to thoughts of that weeks 20 miler, heavier lifting days, and healthier food choices. Suddenly, as I lay stuck on the couch with no chance of running in the next few days, feelings of guilt flooded me. Everything I work so hard to get out of my head - like calorie counting and "earning" or "burning off" food - consumed me. 

All of these feelings were a wake up call of how I will never be done working on a better me. I thought I was exercising healthfully, when really I was still using it to justify rest days and food intake. I thought I had stopped comparing myself to others and yet felt painfully jealous of friends who got to exercise. I thought I had a better handle on food, when suddenly I'm adding up the calories in my eggs and avocado once again. 

So, do I think this back injury happened for a reason? Who knows. What I do know is that I embrace the opportunity to challenge myself by coming face to face with my struggles, because right now, there is no exercise or busy work days to distract me. Just me and my limited self, alternating between heat and ice, trying to heal in more ways than one. 

Removing the Guilt

Let's dive right in here- guilt is shitty. It only makes us feel badly about ourselves, a decision we may have made, or something in the past that we cannot go back and change. When you really think about it, feeling guilty is pointless; not only because we do not have the capability to go backwards in life but also because that guilt typically comes from an outside source, rather than from within ourselves. At least for me, I have learned that most "bad" decisions I have had less to do with the event itself and more with the guilt associated with it afterwards. However, I've also learned that if I am able to remove the guilt from my choices, I am able to choose more wisely and therefore gain confidence in my decision making. Not to mention, develop an ability to just enjoy more. Here's what I mean...

There are two things in my life that get more of my attention and energy than they deserve: eating and drinking. I grew up in a family that struggled with alcohol consumption, and have had my own struggles with food over the years. I have a tendency to be over-aware of my own alcohol and food consumption, and though these choices have grown to be quite healthy ones, I still find that I over think them and as a result, experience quite a bit of guilt when wandering out of my "norm".

Because of my family's history with drinking, I question nearly every one that I have. There are days where a nice glass of wine simply sounds good, and I talk myself out of it. Then, there are days where I have that glass (or two!) and find I can't even enjoy it because with each sip, I am wondering if I should pour it back into the bottle and make a tea instead. There are weeks that I am not in the mood to drink at all, and others where I'll have one with dinner or before bed every night. What I concluded was that I didn't feel better or worse based upon alcohol consumption, but from the confidence in my decision and the amount of guilt that came along with it.

If I was in the mood for a drink but forced myself to have something else, I felt deprived and under the pressure of my own over-analysis. If I had that drink but felt uneasy with each sip, I felt anxious and guilty for pouring it. Life is to enjoy, and here, I had to learn how. My only way of doing this was to remove any guilt associated with my decision. If I made the choice, whatever it was, that was that, and I was to  allow myself to enjoy it. This went for food, too.

Having a sensitive gut and love for food is, at times, a tough combination. I've learned to create food choices that satisfy my big appetite and love for sweets while still being healthy and mindful of my tummy troubles. Now, having said that, this doesn't mean I never have ice cream with my kids or help myself to seconds - but this was another area that weighed heavily in the guilt department for me. It all comes down to the fact that our mind is in control of how we feel.

If we allow ourselves to feel guilty about the choices we make, it sets us up for negative self efficacy. We believe we have failed, tell ourselves we shouldn't have done that, and start to look at outside comparisons to either justify our decision or make us feel worse. For me, whether it was deciding to eat the ice cream or pour a second glass of wine, this negative mindset would spiral into thoughts of food restriction or over exercising as a form of self punishment. This, I decided, was bullshit. If I made the decision to gobble up some Acushnet Creamery or get my buzz on with some Cabernet, I needed to own it without being penalized. What was the point of these indulgences if I wasn't enjoying them? - that statement right there was an eye opener to so many different aspects of my life. I needed to enjoy my food and drink, I needed to embrace my rest days, I needed to be confident in my decisions; none of which would be possible without the removal of guilt.

It's a work in progress as it will always likely be, but I'm learning. When I'm staring at the bottom of an empty ice cream bowl, I remind myself how delicious it was instead of how far I will need to run to burn it off. When I decide on that glass of wine, I take the time to truly enjoy each sip. These things are made easier when other enjoyable aspects are incorporated - like having them outside in the sunshine or with good company. I've found that the more I enjoy the process of these things, the more I am able to rid of the guilt that could potentially be tied to them, because it is now an experience; something I am truly enjoying. I can wake up and remind myself how nice that glass of wine on the porch was last night, instead of feeling guilty about drinking it to begin with. I can relax and enjoy a treat with my girls knowing that I am embracing the time and memories with them. It's all about how we think, and in turn, how we talk to ourselves. If we think we are doing something wrong, we create our own guilt. If we own our decision, we can rid of it.

Own that shit!

Too Much Stability

Stability; it's something that everyone seems to want for themselves and their children. We want a steady job, to live in one place, to have stable relationships - all to essentially create this protective bubble around us from things we cannot control. I was raised this way. I lived in the same house for 19 years before moving out, my parents were married for most of my years at home, and our weekly routine was solid. Now, as an adult reflecting back, I'm beginning to wonder if there may have been too much stability in my upbringing.

Change was something I really struggled with as I entered my teen years. Everything from a change in relationship status to my best friend's parents remodeling their home; I had a very strong tendency to cling onto things. I also can now see that once I was comfortable, it took a lot for me to break free of that comfort zone, if it even happened at all. I had the same best friend my entire life, and we had a blast growing up down the street from each other, but I clung to that relationship so closely that it prevented me from branching out and becoming a part of other friendship circles. And, when my friend was able to do this, I felt trapped within my own limits. I put most of my energy as a teenager into my boyfriends; obsessing over seeing them, constantly on the phone with them, and always thinking of them. Having a boyfriend in general was a big part of my stability bubble, so I easily jumped from one to the next.

Too much stability made me feel close minded. I assumed I'd stay in Worcester forever, because, why not? My dad grew up just one town over, and has been in our Worcester house for nearly 40 years. I assumed I'd do the same. It wasn't until I chose to stay in the city for massage school when everyone else went away for college that I even remotely considered living someplace else. For the first time, I felt truly alone, and really had to make a plan for myself. But, as my stability bubble would have it, instead of taking that time to do what I did years later and work on getting to know myself through personal growth, I hopped online and found myself another boyfriend to fill the void.

Fast forward through a pregnancy, baby, break up, and yes, another relationship, my comfort zone was no longer in tact. How cliché of me to say that everything happens for a reason, but hell, it does. I can look back and literally watch these life events fall into place to create the puzzle that is now my life. Becoming a mother made me think for someone other than myself for the first time. Meeting my husband who lived 90 minutes away made me consider moving for the first time. Actually making that move forced me to make new friends, including getting to know just who the hell I was. And, all of this in turn has made me feel open to even more change and less "stability".

Take our house for example. When house hunting, we were very black and white about location; it either had to be near Worcester or near Fairhaven - we felt it necessary to be close to at least one side of our family. When we found a house that suited most of our needs in Acushnet, we bought it, and I assumed from living in the same house my entire life, that this would be it - our forever home. Being the clingy-type, I initially liked the comfort of having his family so close, both for the social aspect of simply knowing people in the area, and also for the help we receive with our girls. I also loved that I was a quick 90 minute drive from my mom and dad, and just an hour from my brother. This in essence still held up parts of that stability bubble for me. My husband has always talked about retiring to North Carolina, which for him is at a young 45, and though I was open to this thought, I always stubbornly refused to go anywhere until my parents passed. Knowing my parents lived in close proximity to theirs, I felt it was what I should do too.

Though time with family is important, I am starting to see that my thought process of staying put has more to do with that bubble of comfort than it does anything else. And, just like when my friends went away for college, soon, my parents whereabouts may change too. My dad and his wife plan to move to New Hampshire, my mother has always longed to live in Maine, my sister in law's dream is to move to Florida, and then there's us - sticking around in an area that my husband has always lived and is my new stable place. Recently, when talk of retirement emerged again, a new, liberating thought came about: why wait?

I must credit the piles of books, hours of yoga, miles of running, and pages of writing to the person I am today. It's truly been hard work, but to have reached a point in my life where I am comfortable simple being me is opening so many new doors. Never before would I have been willing to move completely away. And now? Now I know I will be fine no matter where I go, because I am who I am whether I live in Massachusetts or North Carolina, whether I am 90 minutes or 14 hours from family. Even if such a dramatic move isn't in our near future, I feel like my openness and willingness to do so proves that I have hit another level of comfort, though this time it isn't dependent on anyone but me. Plus, the thought of not having to deal with New England winters surely is a bonus.

This personal growth shit is pretty cool, and its "aha" moments like this that shed light on my progress. I may have had what I believe is too much stability in my childhood, and struggled with change until very recently, but had I not experienced all of that, I would still be close minded to the many opportunities that have presented themselves recently. I also know that I have the power to raise my children in a world of change and growth in hopes that they can be better prepared for what life has in store for them. Whatever the universe hands me, I feel ready for it, and that's pretty fucking awesome.

Disorered Eating Control - An Update

As I've written before, disordered eating has haunted me for years. Even once I was able to overcome the viscous cycle of over eating, over exercising, and restricting, I found that the hard part had only just begun: changing the habit is one thing, but training your mind to think healthfully was another.

I think my biggest motivation is knowing that a nourished body is an admired body. My husband used to rebuttal my "look at that guy's 6 pack!" comment with a "yeah, but it's easy for him because he's skinny" comment. I used to defend Mr. 6-Pack by arguing that just because he's skinny doesn't mean he doesn't work out often and eat right, until I realized that there may be some truth to what my husband was saying. It had more to do with the fact that someone who has to work harder is, in a way, more respected for their hard work and in turn their athleticism and body. I learned that if I restricted my eating or over exercised after a binge, there was the "but" factor - and not in the bootylicious kind of way - but in the "yeah, she has a nice body but she barely eats" way. I didn't want their to be a "but" factor when it came to my body, training, or really anything. I wanted to be healthy, and do to that by developing healthy habits with both food and exercise. If someone tells me I look great, I want it to be because I AM an eater, and I DO work hard in the gym, and I WORK to nourish my body. That is much more admiral than someone who looks good "but" works out three times a day, "but" they skip meals.

Gaining this control over my eating habits has allowed for more healthy exercise habits. I no longer wake up in the morning and base the days work out on the amount of almonds and cashews consumed before bed. It was under control, and therefore my work out will be what my body needs that day, whether it be running, lifting, yoga, or most important - a rest day. I am much more inclined to actually rest when I feel my body needs it knowing that I don't need to "work off" the previous days choices. A quote from Women's Health has resonated with me deeply: "Exercise is a celebration of what your body can do. Not a punishment for what you ate" - Bingo. It's actually more motivating to work out knowing that I'm celebrating a healthy body instead of punishing a malnourished one.

Other than the removal of my "trigger foods" to help me gain control, one of the biggest factors to my foodie-joy has been to simply give into cravings. If I want a glass or two of wine, I pour it. If I want dessert after dinner, I eat it. I've learned that restricting leads to binging, and to break that cycle I needed to simply give in here or there. A few bites of ice cream was much better than the entire container of strawberries I used to substitute for, and squashed my craving instead of leaving my palate insatiable.

I love food, and I am an eater. There are 3 eggs in my omelets, an entire avocado in my salads, bacon on my grass-fed burger, and everything is doused in olive oil. I love that I can be an example of someone who has overcome disordered eating by ACTUALLY eating - and in the high-fat high-protein manner to boot. I am healthy because I eat well and often, and because I work out with a healthy mindset. I respect myself for the choices I make, and because of that, other's respect it too. I love challenging my body in terms of exercise: how much further can I run? How much heavier can I lift? What new yoga poses can I learn? And, I love refueling my body properly to earn that respect. I'd rather eat the damn broccoli and have a bloated belly than to avoid a healthy choice based on image. It's taken me a long time to get to where I am today, and there are still days that I am a little too aware of my eating habits, but I am confident in the choices I am making for my health, and look forward to continuing on in the right direction.

Mother's Day

Voluntarily waking up at 4:50 on today, Mother's Day, has me filled with an amazing sense of self. After years of hard work to let go, just be, rid of expectations, and enjoy the little things, I woke with an empowering feeling of accomplishment; no thoughts of gifts or flowers, no desire to escape to a spa, no push to sleep in or do less - a free mind to enjoy the 2 reasons I am able to celebrate Mother's Day at all: my Littles and my husband.

One year, I set myself up for failure with my own expectations. I assumed I'd wake up to a beautiful bouquet of flowers on our dining room table, after, of course, being able to sleep in and maybe even receive breakfast in bed. You can imagine my annoyance when I was the one to wake up with the kids, walked into a dining room with an empty table, and bitterly began to make my own breakfast. The day had just begun, and I was already in asshole-mode. Though, I did give a solid effort to not seem annoyed once my husband woke up, that lasted about as long as breakfast did. I sat there, poking my scrambled eggs, and unwrapping hundreds of tiny folded pieces of paper with hearts on them that Lyla made me, before finally snapping at Eric. "You couldn't have at least got me flowers or something?!" He had no comment. Then, after taking the dog out, emerged with flowers and my favorite chocolate bar which he had been hiding in the car.

I ruined what could have been a great, relaxing morning with my family by expecting it to go a certain way. It's true what they say: let go of your expectations and you will never be disappointed. Just because I didn't wake up that morning to find flowers on the table, didn't mean I wasn't getting them, and because I had my own plan of how the day would go, I ruined a thoughtful moment. Not to mention the fact that I wasn't mindfully present while opening all these teeny adorable papers from my daughter (the reason I am able to celebrate this day in the first place!) - I was too busy being annoyed, fueled by expectation and selfishness. The funny thing is that I'm not even a huge gift person. I'd much rather give than get, but there's something about the questions you receive around a holiday like Mother's Day that sets you up for those expectations, even if it's not what you really care for. My mother is a big contributor to these questions, as she believes her daughter's husband should give her the world by showering me with gifts and foot massages and over the top plans. That's what she expected when she was married, and she wants me to expect the same. And, as clearly pointed out above, I used to.

Luckily, I've learned to shut down the expectations department. What a relief. Time holds more value to me than any number of flowers, diamonds, or gifts. Today, at 4:50, I got out of bed to enjoy one of my favorite times of the day, where the house is quiet and the birds are loud. I sipped my giant mug of coffee as I click away on the laptop, anticipating a day filled with nothing more than family. The greatest gift is simply time, and how lucky for me that today marks the first day of my husband's vacation. Normally, we would be squeezing as much time as possible out of the morning before he left for his second shift job, but today, we get to let it al unfold and just enjoy. For that, I am thankful. But today, for some reason more than others, I feel like I am "here" - I can feel all of my hard work paying off as I am able to simple be - it's been a long few years of endless reading, yoga, deep breaths, and self work, and it'll always be on-going, but today, I feel that inner calm I have been striving for. No expectations. A feeling I'm sure my husband will appreciate when he wakes up to loving arms instead of crossed ones. No asshole-mode today. Just gratitude.

Taking Care

As I explore my options of Wellness Coaching, as well as coast along in my own journey of health, I'm certain of one thing: self care is the bottom line of it all. And, as research and experience has taught me, it all begins with your mind. A positive mindset sets us up for success. Creating happiness and self love has been a long journey, but a powerful one nonetheless, and I believe that all good things naturally fall into place once this is established; eating healthy because you want to nourish your body; exercising because you want to feel good - these are fueled by the positivity that follows your self respect. Skipping a meal after a splurge because you feel guilty, justifying over eating because you didn't eat all day, or over exercising to "work off" things are all causing harm, not only nutritionally, but emotionally, because they are fueled by a negative sense of self. Once you rewire your mind to treat yourself with respect, good habits naturally occur, and you are able to make more clear, healthy, and mindful decisions.

I'm a morning person. I absolutely love waking up hours before my family and taking that time to myself. I'll join friends for a run, go to the gym, or read and write while I sip a bowl (yes, bowl) of coffee. I used to just view this as "me time" and left it at that, but what I didn't realize was how much of an impact my mornings had on the rest of my day - and my choices throughout. It was my time to be selfish, to think only of myself and my needs, and to take the opportunity to start the day on the right foot, regardless of how the previous day went. It was always a new start, and I was in control.  decided to use this control to establish healthy habits that would create a domino effect of good habits to follow thought the day. I started back on New Year's Day, the most cliché resolution day, simply with promising myself to drink warm lemon water first thing each morning. I bought a glass juicer that I squished half a lemon into while I let the hot water run, then combined and chugged with a straw. Not the most pleasant thing immediately after rolling out of bed when that 5am alarm goes off, but the benefit of knowing the good I was doing my body was rewarding. Not to mention, the tart taste woke me right up, which was helpful on days I dragged myself out the door to exercise minutes later.

Doing my body good on the inside made me want to do the same for the outside, and so I developed another daily habit: body brushing. This is one of my more bizarre things, yes, but with the benefits of exfoliating, increasing circulation, detoxing, and keeping cellulite at bay, it was an easy habit to keep, especially when I combined it with another daily habit: showering. Now, everyday before I shower, which I know I'll do, I body brush while the water warms. Consequentially, this lead to the habit of post-shower moisturizing. Amazing how something as simple as applying lotion (or coconut oil in my case) can be such a treat to yourself. The baby-soft skin as a result of the body brushing and moisturizing doesn't suck, either.

At this point on most mornings, it's still before breakfast, and the house is slowly starting to stir. I've already had my lemon water, exercised, and cared for my skin. This is my "feelin' pretty spiffy" time of the day since I have made all good choices and feel great, mentally and physically. Because of this, I am unlikely to ruin that with an unhealthy breakfast or poor attitude, and so the good habits keep unfolding as the day goes on. When I make myself a meal, I think about how it's nourishing my body, and that I'm eating for fuel, not comfort. Reminding myself to respect myself keeps me in check with my decisions - and this spans far beyond food, like when a client wants to be squeezed into an already packed day, and I have to say no, because saying yes meant not respecting my limits.

Another important way I "take care" is to eliminate the word "should" from most things. I should be at the playground with the girls, but I'd I would be cold, cranky, and miserable. I should eat this salad when what I really want is a burger. I should only have wine on weekends instead of incorporating it into mid-week laundry night. The thing about "should" is that it suggests something for us, based on society or other people we know, instead of allowing us to tune into our needs. The fact is, I get cold easily and don't want to be at the playground on those 40 degree days, and that if I'm craving a burger, I want to eat the damn burger, and that a glass of wine on Tuesday night turns folding 3 baskets of laundry into something relaxing and enjoyable instead of a dreaded chore.

As I've mentioned before, an area of struggle for me continues to be at night, after the kids are in bed. It's easy to justify an extra glass of wine or nighttime snack after an entire day of solid healthy habits, and even easier knowing I'll wake up to my warm lemon water and a fresh start the next day. This is where my work in "taking care" continues - but I'm also enjoying the challenge, and the reward being the good habit itself; when I wake up knowing I didn't over indulge, I feel a strong sense of self control. On nights where I may have had that little extra, I put my good habits to the test: eating a normal breakfast, exercising a normal amount, and continuing on with these little daily health choices to inspire another day of feeling good.

Taking care of how you think of yourself must be the first step in a healthy lifestyle. Mind over matter, love yourself first, and the healthy habits will naturally follow.

Job Lovin' and Making Changes

Sometimes, you have to make changes that work for you; that make your life easier and create more happiness. Today marks the start of a change that I had the luxury of creating myself - a new work schedule.

It sounds so simple - especially when I only made a few small changes, but the final decision to actually create these changes had me torn for months. As a massage therapist, a fair amount of my clients prefer afternoon or weekend appointments when they are out of work or school, and a big part of this profession is to be accommodating. So, I was. I hired a sitter who got my daughter off the bus on the afternoons I worked, fed my girls dinner, and made sure homework was done. This may sound like a good thing, but to me, those were my favorite parts of the day. I loved watching my daughter sprint from the bus to our front steps with her huge backpack bouncing behind her. I loved sitting between my girls at the dinner table and chatting about their school days. And, I loved watching my daughter zip through her homework in her school-loving way. And so, instead of feeling relieved to come home from work with all these things done, I felt like I missed out. For nearly 2 years I just told myself it's what needed to be done, and it was hard to consider cutting back since I really do enjoy going to work, but the more afternoons I worked, the more I felt a negative pull instead of a positive one. They are only going to be this little once, and so I decided that to me, this time was invaluable - even if it did mean creating a less flexible schedule for clients. First change made.

Second, was another tough decision to work less without losing too many hours. I know how fortunate I am to have built a solid clientele that keeps my schedule filled for several weeks at a time, but I also know that on some days, this work load was just too much. I didn't want the quality of my work to go down due to tired forearms and aching hands - not to mention, my husband and I didn't share a day off together and were seeing each other very minimally. And so the decision to go from 5 work days to 4 was next, with the perfect solution: lengthen my morning hours into the afternoon to make up for the lost day, but make that day off in the middle of my work week - which just so happens to fall on my husband's day of as well. BINGO. Mentally and physically, this break during the week allows the busier days to come to be manageable, and hooray for more time with my handsome hubby!

I've read a lot about happiness, and there hasn't been one book that doesn't mention choosing a career you love. Makes sense, since you spend most of your life working. I usually skimmed over these chapters since I was already job-lovin', but realizing that I could make my job even more enjoyable with a few simple changes made me feel empowered. I did this for myself and my family, and it feels damn good. Welcome, May! I'm giddy with excitement to embrace the challenge of a busier work day, with the gratitude of an extra day off and more afternoon time with my girls. Happiness really is an inside job, and I'm happy to go to work.

Disordered Eating: Gaining Control

Disordered eating. It's different from the more widely known 'eating disorders' simply because it doesn't warrant that specific diagnosis, but similar in the fact that it involves abnormal eating behaviors. Wikipedia describes disordered eating as having common features of eating disorders such as chronic restrained eating, compulsive eating, and binge eating with loss of control. Those behaviors that are not characteristic of any eating disorder are listed as chaotic eating patterns, ignoring physical feelings of hunger or fullness, emotional eating and night eating. When I read these things, all I could think was "me, me, me".

If you know me at all, or just simply follow me on social media, you know I love food, all in which are crazy health foods. How, you might wonder, could someone who eats so healthy have an unhealthy relationship with food? This even strikes my husband as strange. I've come so far from the teenager who skipped meals after indulging, or from the new mother who went calorie-counting-crazy. And yet, when I dive into that kids-are-in-bed snack of too many almonds, I still hoard the guilt I used to have in those previous, less healthy times. My husband sees a healthy snack that I had in large quantity, and I see a lack of self control. Sometimes, I feel frustrated knowing that I've been working on my relationship with food for over a decade, and then I am brought back to neutral by remembering how far I have come, and that there is always, always room for more change. Here, I am going to share things I have done that I found helpful, not only to remind myself, but in hopes that it can help anyone else experiencing a similar struggle.

"Your body is the only place you have to live" - this little popular saying has become a little mantra of mine when it comes to eating. It reminds me that it's no one's job but my own to take care of myself, and one of the biggest ways to do so is to fuel it well. In order to do this, I ask lots of questions, starting with a very simple "what am I in the mood for?" at meal times. I've learned the hard way that if I am in the mood for something sweet, and instead choose a salad because it's the "healthier" choice, I will be left unsatisfied when my plate is cleared. This typically results in a large homemade chocolate, handful of nuts, or several minutes in front of the fridge or cabinet mindlessly munching. I believe that your body craves what it needs, and so I've learned to listen to it closely. Now, that doesn't mean having a candy bar for lunch because my sweet tooth is calling, but rather choosing a fruit smoothie and granola bar, or making my famous sweet potato meal with chicken and cinnamon. The sweetness fills my craving and I'm able to feel satisfied and done when the meal is gone.

Another question I need to ask myself is "what did I do for exercise today?" - this isn't to justify huge portions or extra snacks, but simply to tune into what my body may be needing based on that day's activity. For instance, if I went to the gym and lifted heavy, I'm sure to base my meal around protein. If I went for a long run, I'm sure to include a complex carb with protein to refuel and recover. I've found that being aware in this way prevents me from experiencing bouts of extreme hunger later. Breakfast is almost always my biggest meal of the day; partially because I have just worked out and need to fuel up, and also because it jump starts your metabolism for the rest of the day's digestion. I'm also sure to include a "good fat" with every meal, because I have found that, included with protein, it's what really factors into that full-feeling between meals. I have at least half an avocado, olive oil, and coconut oil daily. Luckily, I'm long past the "fat makes you fat" nonsense. Eat fat, people.

Now, an important and recent thing I've had to do is hold myself accountable for "trigger foods". Everyone seems to have that one thing that they will binge on; for my dad, it's Cape Cod potato chips. I'll always remember him making my school lunch early in the morning, and on the counter would be a little pile of chips next to the bag he packed me, because even though it was 6:30am, he couldn't help himself. For me, it's nuts. I don't know what it is about them, but they are my potato chip: I can't just have one (handful). Not only would I add them to foods throughout the day (walnuts in my oatmeal, almonds in my yogurt, cashews in my ginger stir-fries), but it was my go-to snack at night when I need a little (lotta) somethin'. Most people would say a handful of almonds before bed isn't the worst, but for me, it was. A handful was never enough, and so I always went back for more. Same with nut-butters; I'd start by spreading some on a rice cake, and, being left with a need for more, I'd reach for apple slices and celery to spread it on. Sure, healthy choices, but half a jar of sun-butter later, I wasn't feeling so healthy. It's really the one thing I felt had a hold of me, that I had no self control over. Over the last 3 years I've given up dairy, wheat, soy, sugar, anything processed or with more than a handful of ingredients - but I refused to give up nuts because "they're healthy". What I never was willing to look at was my relationship with them, which was extremely unhealthy. Shit, I'm constantly telling my husband how I don't need him but want him - how could I feel I needed nuts in my life this much?! Just this past week, I broke up with them in their singular form; ie. raw nuts and nut butters. This is something I should have done long ago, but never wanted to feel like I had to give up something I really just loved. But I came to realize that, delicious or not, healthy or not, it was a trigger food for me. And, if I wanted to fuel my body well, binging on nuts was never going to make me feel good. This past week while grocery shopping, I had a stare-down with my beloved sun-butter, then kept walking.

Since I've been doing the "foodie-thing" for nearly 4 years now, I have a good grasp on healthy meals, portion sizes that work for me, and a well balanced plate. My downfall has always been snacks. Again, not necessarily what the snack is, but how much, and whether or not I even needed it or if I was eating out of habit. And so, another question I learned to ask was "am I actually hungry?" If I had dinner at 5:00 and it's 8:00 with a long run planned in the morning, yeah, I could use a snack. However, my struggle came when dinner was served at 7:00 and I damn well know I didn't need more food at 8:00 but the kids are in bed and this is our snack time. Even now as I write this, I have chia pudding setting in the fridge, I had a late dinner after work, and realistically, I am not hungry. But there is something about the habit of a late night snack that makes the thought of not having one almost panicked. This is still a work in progress for me, but tuning into "okay Lauren, are you actually hungry?" holds me accountable for my own body and needs. What's funny is the fact that I eat healthy actually often causes me to eat when I may not necessarily be hungry, simply because it's healthy. Like that chia pudding setting in the fridge; it's chia seeds, flax seeds, raw cacoa powder, organic maple syrup and cashew milk. It's literally harmless and boasts so many health benefits that often I will eat it whether I'm hungry or not, compared to the knowledge of ice cream in the freezer and opting out of it because it's not healthy.

Despite the fact that there is always room for improvement, I am proud for coming as far as I have. In years prior, I would plan a food restraint and excessive work out after a night of overeating, where as now I acknowledge it as a night I enjoyed myself, and embrace the new day and the choices I've yet to make. So as I say goodbye to nuts in our house, I can feel good about being honest about a weakness and the willingness to move forward. Our bodies are the only place we have to live, after all.

Happiness Project Inspiration

So far, The Happiness Project may be my favorite book about discovering happiness. Other books I have read have been wonderful, but also had this weird way of making me feel bad for wanting to do things like clean the house - because I should be learning to let that go and use my time more creatively, right? Well, this book has been the first to acknowledge that it's okay to want to do those things because it feels good to scratch things off you're to-do list, and with that, comes a sense of completion, relief, and even happiness. Even though I may not take a specific year to map out guidelines for each month with sub-sections to work on in order to have my own concrete "happiness project", it has inspired me to challenge myself and my routine in new ways that will ultimately add to the happiness I've already worked to hard to have. Here, I'll list a few simple things that the book has, so far, inspired me to do.

Make a to-do list. For me, this was less about chores and more about things I have been meaning to or wanting to get to.

I started with writing letters to the girls; it's something I've always wanted to start doing, and here is Lyla who turns 7 this summer and I've yet to write one letter! I want to write about their lives, maybe once or more a year, so that they can have them to read and to share when they get older. So, instead of reading with my morning coffee or my nighttime wine, I started the letters. I wrote all about them; their age, their friends, their silly stories, favorite foods, things I love to do with them, hobbies and quirks that make them uniquely them. It was fun to write because it was so easy to write about, and I loved doing it knowing that they may not see these letters until they are adults. It felt good to get the first one for each of them done, and now that I've started, I know I will be more apt to write down a funny saying or something worth remembering so we can always keep those memories.

Then I moved to an organization project: saving the girls' artwork and school projects. Lyla has a decorated pizza box under her bed where she stashes all her paper keepsakes, and I have an old hat box under there, too, for all the ones that Mommy wanted to keep. But they are both overflowing and serving little protection for these little masterpieces, so I finally made a point to get to the craft store and pick up big art portfolio storage cases. I've yet to weed through the mess that is under that bed, but still, it feels good to at least have them here, ready to be organized.

Other little things were simple, but had just been pushed to the back burner and had this nagging habit of reminding me at a time when I couldn't do anything about it - like being reminded to clean the hamsters cage when we see the hamster food at Walmart, but forgetting once we're home, or remembering to pay a bill that keeps getting pushed off. Anything that I found myself saying "shoot, I need to remember to do that!", I would start writing in the "notes" section of my phone and move it to the top of my to-do list when I had time.

Positive parenting changes.

There is no perfect parent, we all know that. But it's the one area that can always be tweaked and improved, so I decided to dig a little deeper into things I wish I did differently, more often, or even less, and put the effort in accordingly.

I started with bedtime. When Lyla was little, this was always a really sweet time; we would read her several stories, take turns swaying and singing to her, and then tuck her in tight. Once Hannah came along, this wonderful ritual slowly went away once our nights became less about a cute bedtime and more about getting a screaming baby and two exhausted parents to sleep. And even now that they are older, bedtime has become a boring routine of the girls getting themselves ready and a quick kiss goodnight from us. They may not need to be rocked to sleep with a lullaby anymore, but I wanted to start involving myself in their bedtime routine again, so I started simply with that. "Make bedtime more fun" I told myself. Instead of ordering them to go brush up, I joined them. I sat there and helped them floss as we discussed plans for the following day, took time to clean their ears and go over their teeth once they brushed. These changes are small but mean so much. It's much more pleasant to be in there helping them rather than barking orders from the couch or kitchen, then getting annoyed when there was more goofing off than teeth-brushing going on. When I'm in there with them, it get's done faster, and I get those few extra minutes to look at those adorable faces before bed: win-win. Another thing that stopped was bedtime reading - mostly because Lyla has been so into chapter books and wants to read them herself, and as monkey-see-monkey-do will have it, Hannah wanted to read in bed like her big sister - by herself. So, I would kiss them goodnight as they settled down with their own books, but then felt guilty about not spending more of bedtime with them. One night after brushing and flossing I said "okay Hannah, go pick out a book and meet me on Lyla's bed" - that 5 minutes of Little Red Riding Hood all cuddled up on Lyla's bed was adorable, and made me feel good about taking steps to getting our "cute bedtime" back.

Then I moved to compassion an acknowledgement. We are creatures of habit, and once Pandora's box is opened, it's easy to make a one-time-thing the norm; reacting a certain way to the girls' behavior, playing the blame game, or telling them how they feel. I wanted to change how I handled some situations and so I had to reroute my thinking.  

First, I want my kiddos to know that accidents happen, and that they are okay. Too often I find myself getting frustrated when Hannah drops her water cup or when Lyla loses something. I had to start with my reaction to these accidents, because this was the first step of showing them it's okay. I hate seeing their little faces after they do something "wrong" while wondering if they're going to be in trouble. And my giant, frustrated sighs or firm tone wasn't helping. So, a deep breath for Mommy followed by "accidents happen!" has been my focus. Next, I had to turn off the "well, if you didn't ________, that wouldn't have happened!" Sure, if they weren't being silly at lunch time, Lyla wouldn't have knocked over her milk, but instead of blaming them, I've chosen to simply make it their responsibility for the mess. "Oh well, better grab a paper towel". It's not easy as I watch milk cascade down the counter top, onto the stool and into the lap of my fashion-loving Lyla who is now upset about a forced outfit change, but it does make me feel better which comes full circle when I can see the relief on her face from not being scolded or blamed.

Next, I wanted to zone in more on their feelings and really make a point to acknowledge them. I can't tell you how terrible if feels to have fallen into the "well that's too bad" parenting approach. And, unfortunately, more times than not, it's where I've found myself. Why couldn't I take an extra 15 seconds to explain why Hannah couldn't wear flip flops to school when it was snowing? Or explain to Lyla that after a huge dinner and good size snack that she doesn't need to eat something else before bed? It takes practically no time at all, and everyone walks away feeling better with simple reasoning and understanding.

These extra strides towards happiness may seem simple, but they make a huge difference. I feel good prioritizing my to-do list and accomplished when I can scratch things off of it. I feel better as a parent when I make the extra effort here and there. Simple but powerful.

Basically, this book rocks. Read it.

Wellness Coaching

As of September, I will have worked where I am for two years. Over this time I have had the privilege of meeting and working on many amazing clients, getting to know them, and earning their trust. I've managed to fine tune not only my massage treatments but also things within my life that I have the ability to apply to my work life - like how my running, lifting and yoga passions teach me about an athletic client's specific needs and problem areas on a deeper level, how my sensitive gut has lead me to paleo-friendly food choices that I can recommend to clients, and how holistic approaches are always my go-to. Because of the athletic environment I work in, conversations during treatment naturally sway towards these topics, and I feel so energized when I am able to help clients through my personal experience and knowledge on more than just soft tissue work. I enjoy hearing about what people had for breakfast that day or what their work out entailed just as much as I enjoy the release of a stubborn knot in a muscle belly. And so, it became clear that Wellness Coaching was a natural thing for me to add to my massage profession.

The most exciting thing about this career addition is the endless options I have. Realistically, going grocery shopping with every client is not what I have in mind. I want my choices to emphasize my love of exercise, food, but most importantly - self love and emotional well-being. I want to help people take steps to find their true happiness, and let the exercise and good eating fall into place as a result of the self respect they will gain. Before I dive into this course and go at it with an unsteady plan, I first wanted to write out (for client's awareness and my own use) some ways I'd enjoy being a Wellness Coach, because after all, loving your job is an important factor in happiness, and I wouldn't be the best example if I began this new path by branching out in ways that are uncomfortable for me. So, I came up with a list of things I genuinely enjoy, and feel I could incorporate into client meetings.

Tea in the sunroom. This is one of my favorite things to do every afternoon, and where many Wellness Coaches seem to meet with people in their own homes, what better place to chat about goals and a healthier life than in my little room of sunshine while we sip tea or coffee? It would take something I enjoy doing for myself daily and add the bonus of helping people set and reach their health goals while sipping delicious tea.

Blogging. Well, since this is a blog, I suppose that one's a little obvious. I am fortunate to have gone through many of the wellness changes that I will be helping future clients achieve, and because of this I have the ability to share my personal successes through writing. I can share everything from the little things I do daily to incorporate health and happiness, to recipe ideas and work out routines. These are things I am already passionate and knowledgeable about, so why not write about them for other people's benefit? If I help one person try something new, that's great! If not, I know I will enjoy writing about it simple because I am passionate about them! Win-win.

Walk and talk. My mother, who is a psychologist, started a program with her clients when she was living in Maine that I always thought was a brilliant idea: instead of sitting in her sea-side apartment for sessions, they would have therapy while walking along the beach. This, I think, is something I would love to include. We are fortunate to live near a few small beaches, but also some beautiful trails and a bike path. Fresh air and exercise while creating a plan for life style change seems like a no-brainer to me.

Wellness Massage. I haven't quite figured out just how I want to do this, since like I previously stated, conversation naturally sways towards the topics of wellness already, but I would love to find a way to specifically have sessions that involve both soft tissue work and mental health. You'll have to stay tuned (or please share your opinions!) on this one.

All in all, I am excited for this new learning experience and hopes to help people become healthier and happier. Any thoughts or advice as I take on this new chapter are more than welcome!

Alone in Marriage

Reading the title of this blog, you may think that this post is going to be negatively swayed. It's actually quite the opposite, because feeling alone in my marriage is possibly the best thing for my marriage.

What the what? I know. Allow me to explain.

Over the past few years, and more seriously and particularly the last one, I have worked deeply on myself. I've read, wrote, and thought about the journey to true happiness - what it looks like, what it entails - and I have made a sincere effort in all aspects of my life to work on them daily. Ultimately, what it comes down to is that happiness is an inside job. It's something you create yourself, and that you define based on your true inner peace, and not your marital status, job title or house size. I've learned that no matter what happens, you can always find the good, and having this attitude puts the power of my happiness in no ones hands but my own. Applying this method of thinking to my marriage has allowed for a much more enjoyable love.

Still not with me on this one? Okay, more to tell.

In pervious blogs, I've talked about expectations, and how we tend to make them, run with them, and set ourselves up for disappointment. "He knows I had a long day at work, maybe I'll come home to the dishes done" - only to walk through that door, see a sink piled high with dirty dishes, and a husband who has no idea why you are pissed. A bitter "so what did you do all day" typically followed, and since the answer wasn't "tended to your every expectation" - it was never good enough. And, admittedly, totally unfair. Especially because the time I'm at work is the only time he has for himself all day - an unfortunate cause of working 2nd shift. If he were to take his morning to do chores for me just so I can come home from work and relax, that takes away from his own time before heading off to work until midnight - with no time to relax. It took a very awakening conversation with my sister in law to realize how I need to better respect his time. I opened up to her about how hard it was to be on opposite schedules, and how I felt he was being selfish for using his mornings entirely for himself - mostly at the gym - leaving little or no time for me, the girls, or help with housework. Her response has stuck with me ever since. She said "at work, he's a correctional officer, at home, he's a husband and a father, but when does he just get to be Eric?" And there it was: the realization that he plays all these different roles throughout the day that have their own expectations, and here I am stepping on his time to be himself, just to make my work load lighter. Not only was this making my husband feel pressured, but it was an equally shitty feeling for me. I wanted - and expected - things to get done that were not getting done, and would spend my days annoyed. I would look at his time in the gym as neglecting everything else, instead of honoring his time to himself. I would look at the baskets of laundry that needed folding or the bed that went unmade and fuel an inner fire, instead of simply asking for help or happily getting to it myself. That conversation with my sister in law was the start of a new mindset for me, my marriage and our opposite schedules. In a way, I felt I needed to disconnect from my husband in order to be a stronger individual in my marriage - which sounds strange since marriage is supposed to be a unity, but I had to work on myself and create my own happiness. Any expectations I made had to be followed through on my own. I had to honor not only my husband's time but mine as well. I had to sit with the discomfort of the distance I was creating between us in order to be able to see who we could be as Eric and Lauren, not Mr. and Mrs.

When he spends his mornings focused on himself, I choose not to be bitter, because we always have a choice. I choose to respect that as his time, and take the time for myself as well. At work, I look forward to each client I will help, and constantly remind myself how lucky I am to do what I love. At home, I make the most of my time with the girls, and find balance in house work, reading, yoga, and writing. When he works, I make social plans for myself with friends and family, and then finally, when he's home, I've missed him. And because we've allowed each other this sense of freedom and space to just be ourselves - the individual - the time we do get together may be minimal, but it's better spent. It's enjoyable. And it's not filled with a laundry list of things we'd like to change to avoid the cycle of expectation and disappointment. It also allows the little things to stand out that much more; the kiss on the cheek while I make breakfast, walking into the bedroom to see the bed made, coming home with insane tubs of coconut oil from BJ's (because who wants flowers anyway?) Those little (big) things mean so much more when they are done on their own, and without the aid of an attitude from your wife. So, if it gets done, I am a bundle of hugs and kisses and thank-you's, and, if it doesn't, I'll get to it. It's really that simple. It's also pretty damn simple to learn to ask for help if it's needed, which is something I also had to practice when cutting ties from expectation.

I always get funny looks when I say this, but I don't feel like I need to be married. Marriage isn't a necessity. You don't need someone to make you happy. In my eyes, marriage is two people who love each other deeply, respect each other's personal growth and dreams, and who add to the other person's life in a positive way. If any one of those three things stops, then what is the point? I am raising my children with an understanding that marriage is a choice, and that the most important thing that lies within it is happiness. Anytime they ask if Mommy and Daddy will be together forever, I tell them that we are very happy now and always hope to be, and will be together as long as we are. This isn't to say we won't endure more hard times that will challenge that happiness, or that we will be quick to walk away in those moments, but I believe happiness in life - not just marriage - is the most important possession anyone could ever have, and the knowledge that it comes from no one other than yourself is the biggest lesson I've set out to teach those little girls of ours. In an attempt to break the cycle of the cliché parenting quote "do as I say not as I do", I hope to show them a strong marriage through my individual happiness.

Not that an "average" marriage is even a thing, but we are far from it; we work opposite schedules, don't share a day off, have separate social circles, different hobbies and passions - the list goes on. I used to critique all of these things in a negative manner, get down about them, and truly just feel alone in my marriage. It wasn't until after years of soul searching, therapy, books and blogs that I realized that being alone didn't have to be bad. It was in that alone time that I grew comfortable with who I was, and changed things I didn't like. By doing that, I can always work toward being the best wife, mother and Lauren that I can be. I can appreciate Eric's time to himself, be thankful for his working hours, and fortunate for what time we do get together. I can be at peace with the sink full of dishes or gushing over the running dishwasher. I can step back and acknowledge what he does bring to my life instead of zoning in on what may be lacking - because really, anything that is lacking, I have the power to do alone.

Alone doesn't mean lonely. It doesn't mean sad or miserable. And in my marriage, it's what has helped me grow to be a better wife, but most importantly, a better me.

New Year, Better Mind

The New Year is always filled with resolutions; among the most common being a new diet and exercise program. Although these are healthy things to do, they are typically motivated from a place of negativity. Maybe you planned accordingly and ate and drank as you pleased throughout the holidays knowing that this "change" would be taking place. You stand in the mirror and pinch the areas of your body you want gone, feel bad about the things you treated yourself to, go through waves of binging and fasting - a viscous cycle where one makes up for the other in an extremely unhealthy manner, and just feel all around bad. I know I've done this throughout the years, and there is no worse feeling than that of hating your own body.

It's no secret that I love fitness; I run, I lift, and I practice yoga. I'm also a huge foodie, and love experimenting with healthy fats, spices, meats, and weird shit. Most would refer to me as healthy, and also find it surprising that I still can struggle with body image. Since I already exercise and eat healthy, I was wondering what New Year's resolutions I could come up with to better myself, my body image, and my mind. My answers were simple, earthy-crunchy, and had longevity - unlike diets that stop once you reach your goal weight.

This year, I will let go of any hate I have for my body, and love it for the two children it has produced, 2 marathons it allowed me to complete, and weight it has trained me to lift. I will do this by being mindful of what I eat, and not over restrict or binge. I will allow myself to eat the damn ice cream with the kids, have that extra glass of wine with my husband, and let the guilt go. I will do this by exercising out of love, instead of hate. I will refuse to think of the calories I've burned in order to "earn" food, because unlike a dog, I do not need to be rewarded with food. I love my body and my health and that is why I will continue to exercise the way that I do. I will do this by practicing yoga every day for the entire year - this is what I would say my true resolution is. Yoga allows me to slow down, to breathe deeply, to notice how my mind or body feels, and to be centered. It is not something I do to burn calories, or to sweat, but rather something I do to take care, to feel good, and to just be. So everyday this year, even if it' 10 minutes of deep stretching after a run or 5 minutes before bed, I will practice every damn day. I will do this by smiling at myself in the mirror; small boobs, little belly pooch, and twig legs included. If I have to starve myself to have a chiseled 6 pack, not only is that not impressive, but it's not worth it. Society has created this unrealistic, unhealthy image of healthy that I really just want to punch in the face. With rings on. I recently read a yoga blog about the author's description of a yoga body: a body, in a bikini, period. Loved that.

Your body is the only place you have to live, and it deserves to be loved and cared for. Don't starve it, don't give it more than it needs, don't exercise out of hate, just love it. I look forward to practicing this each and every day of 2016, and every day after that.

<3