Tuesday: Pulling it Back Together

Madrid!!

Today it felt as if things might be coming together.  Though it is a holiday week and I have had an infant and a three year old confined to the house on a rainy day, it seems that we are functioning without any seriously ruined childhoods or parental nervous breakdowns.  I was able to do a weights and abs workout that felt pretty good, there was no cardio, but my blood pressure skyrocketed when my three year old somehow maneuvered his car door latch open while we were driving.  Maybe that counts for something.

There is also the oddly frequent event that I am forgetting to eat dinner from time to time in my haste to get to bed while the baby is sleeping.  If he goes to sleep for a three hour clip at 9:00, I get everything done so that I can LEAP into bed and sleep until wrenched from a sound slumber by his cries.  While I dearly love  a newborn, the sleeplessness is killing me.

This afternoon, we Sloans attempted to go avisiting, and it actually went over like a lead balloon.  While the baby slept contentedly for the duration of our trip, the three year old refused to use the potty, refused to interact, engaged in much pouting and was eventually ignored by all.  There was not much else to be done but stage an epic battle of the wills that would have resembled something slightly worse than the struggle to regain Middle Earth. While it might not be said that I engaged in the best parenting to combat the situation, we are all still alive.  It is really the best I can currently say about anything.

Now the ride home, on the other hand, was BLEAK.  My otherwise dependable and dearly loved car overheated.  There was no choice but to park in the nearest locale and sit with my two children until help arrived.  These things only happen in the height of rush hour, so it was approximately 45 minutes before help arrived.  By this time, I had climbed into the back seat and breast fed, tried to amuse the three year old, noted that, of course, my phone battery was about to die, and contemplated escaping to Canada or Mexico and starting a new life.

Pure Barre A ++ (Post from February 15th 2010)

It has been a long time since I have taken a women's oriented workout class. It has definitely been since before the baby (first baby), AND I was taking rec center strength training classes back then. A rec center class is VERY different than a class at a private club or an independent studio like pilates or yoga or Pure Barre.

 At a rec center class, people roam in wearing any old thing. For instance, I would usually show up for my class after a long run wearing exactly what I had worn to run. I would be completely sweaty and my running clothes usually consisted of my last remaining Wave Country t-shirt and a grungy pair of shorts. It just wasn't a big deal. It typically only cost me $3, and a senior citizen took my money while drinking rec center coffee out of a cat mug she brought from home and wearing a sweatshirt that had been decorated by her grandchildren for her birthday. I didn't have to make reservations, I just showed up in the dregs of my workout drawer.

Pure Barre, on the other hand, was a little different, which I assume is generally the case with all private facilities. I had a coordinated Lululemon outfit to wear, AND I washed my face and brushed my teeth before I went. Also, I applied a discreet amount of makeup, just enough to make my skin look great. At Pure Barre, you wear socks and no shoes. SO, I made sure I had great socks, though they were not the special Pure Barre socks with grippers. You also need to wear pants, no shorts.

The instructors are impossibly great looking and all wearing super-cute edgy Lululemon apparel and headsets. The inside of the facility is carpeted and otherwise looks a lot like a ballet studio. The walls are mirrored and have ballet bars down the walls. They sell Lululemon workout clothes and Pure Barre balls, mats, socks and such.

My sister, Caroline, and Jeanna and I got there early to secure a good spot. I was feeling pretty confidant as I am in relatively good shape, AND Caroline and I had done a Pure Barre DVD the day before to make sure that I knew what I was doing. The instructor even noted that I looked fit and gave me the heavier set of weights when handing out my materials for class. Materials for class are a mat, a pure bar ball (which is a red rubber ball that is about 5 inches in diameter), and weights.

At Pure Barre, there are four sections: the warm-up, seat work, thigh work, and ab work. I must say that each section was pretty hardcore. While doing most of the exercises you are trying your hardest to squeeze the rubber ball between your thighs while squatting, thrusting and tucking. Also, when you are doing your squats, you are standing on your tip toes (as if in your highest heels) and squeezing the ball with your thighs. During the thigh workout, I thought I was going to have to cry "uncle". My muscles were shaking and felt as if they were on fire. Pure Barre, without a doubt, gave Gilad a run for his money. I had to set down the heavier weights and go lighter, as the workout became more intense.

The class lasted one hour and I burned 136 calories and my heart rate did not get any higher than 67% of my max. It was not a cardio class at all, but I did work out muscles I did not know that I had. My thighs and rear were incredibly sore on Sunday, after a Saturday class, though in a good "I definitely hit some unused muscles" sort of way.

Overall, this workout was very difficult, but doable. I never had a Hot Yoga moment, where I thought I was going to have to quit or leave the room. I thought the workout was much harder and more targeted than my usual Gilad strength training workout, and I really enjoyed the challenge. Also, I felt like the instructors were great about giving feedback and making sure you were getting the most out of your work out.

I give this workout an A plus, and I fully plan to buy the DVD that goes along with the program so that I can work on it at home. I think the thigh portion might change swim suit season for me!!!

Thursday: The Best Laid Plans

Guggenheim Bilbao

And just how did it get to be Thursday.  It seems that it was only yesterday that it was Tuesday and rather warm and rainy for a Nashville fall.  Somehow, it is now Thursday and freezing, and I got two hours of sleep last night.  Misery.  Also, on a note of deep deep bitterness, my husband drank 2.5 cups of coffee this morning, meaning that there was only 1.5 cups left for me.  It was painful. I needed that last .5 cups. Do marriages dissolve over .5 cups of coffee.  It seems QUITE possible.

Now, really my only goal today was to take a power walk and get in a Pure Barre workout.  The Pure Barre workout can be done while both children are home, but we are reaching a point when the power walk cannot happen with both children.  Some 3.5 year olds DO NOT like to sit in the jog stroller unless they can play video games.  It seems that I should not be using my workout time to push the inevitable pull of gaming on so small a child. SO, had I been wise, I would have walked first with my one month old and THEN, when both children were home, gotten in my Pure Barre workout.

You have to completely relearn planning when you add another child to the mix.  I failed at that today.  I thought that I would be able to get in the Pure Barre workout and then go on my walk with just my newborn to factor in.  BUT, of course the phone rang, the baby had to be fed (which can actually happen during a power walk, though it takes some maneuvering of the Ergo), there was an impromptu visit and suddenly it was time to sprint to nursery school to pick up my older child.

SO, the walk did not happen.  It was really all I wanted out of today, and my ignorant planning stopped everything cold.  I learned a lesson today, that anything that cannot be done with two children,  MUST be given top priority while the other child is indisposed.  I will not make this mistake again.

I did manage to get in a Pure Barre workout; at least that.  BUT, today was  the only day until Saturday that I can get in a walk.  Though, maybe, there is a chance that I can sneak to the gym around the corner when my husband gets home and hoof it on the treadmills for a bit.

Hopefully, I absorbed a lot about scheduling my life with two children today and will adjust my behavior  accordingly.  When a window of workout opportunity presents itself, I will JUMP.

Tuesday: Little G is One Month Old

7.5 months pregnant, so not that much weight!!

So today my second child turned one month old and to commemorate the occasion, a woman at the grocery store told me she could not believe I was already expecting another child when I had a newborn.  I can only assume that she had been raised in a cave by wolves, and foolish foolish wolves.  This is actually the second time that this has happened since I gave birth, and for someone who only gained 15 pounds while pregnant, it seems quite untoward.

In terms of bouncing back, things did not go all that well today.  My oldest child is in nursery school on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Since the birth of my second child, every day that I have had to take my older son to nursery school it has been raining.  This means herding a 3.5 year old through a puddled parking lot while balancing a baby carrier, a back pack and a lunchbox.  It is no small feat in sunny weather, but a violent downpour is ruinous.  The baby, myself, and my son were completely drenched by the time we arrived in the building.  I arrived at Bible study without having brushed my teeth. I sat in the back of the room breast feeding, before sprinting off to the grocery store where I was accosted by the aforementioned terrible woman who had clearly been raised by wolves and/or Voldemort.  It was less than pleasant.

At home, I had a visitor to see the baby and discuss birth announcements before I made a weeks worth of Glowing Green Smoothies, and sprinted off to pick up my son at nursery school to make it home in time for another visitor.

There was no workout today. I did not put on makeup, though I did manage to put deodorant on my nose so that it would not shine.  I ate too much sugar.  I drank too much coffee.  I licked the icing off of two cupcakes.  I should have the opportunity to work out tomorrow, and I think that I will focus on where I can cut sugar.  My sugar situation is getting out of control, and I am getting overwhelming cravings.  I think that when I am holed up in the kitchen licking the icing off of cupcakes, things are getting out of control.

I need to Kimberly Snyder myself.  AGAIN.

Monday: Desperation

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You know, one child is no small world shaker, but two, my friends, will rock you to your core.  Three weeks and six days after the birth of my second child. and I am at the end of my rope by 10:00 AM.  The lack of sleep, the inability to take a nap because neither child will sleep at the same time, the amount of caffeine consumed in the morning just to get through, and my general bitterness in the face of not being able to easily leave the house and get in a good workout completely drains me early on.  So far, bouncing back seems to be completely elusive.  In fact, bouncing back seems like it may take months or eons.

Anyway, in an effort  to stave off complete meltdown before 9:55 AM, this morning I gave in and betook myself and two children to a low rent hell hole called Monkey Joe's.  I made a desperate decision last night after muscling everyone down to sleep that we were going to have an extreme outing today.  I would compare the twisting of my mind and the anguished list of pros and cons that I made to that of Lewis and Clark as they made the painful decision of which was more important as they loaded the iron boat on the journey home: supplies or men.  (by the way, prepare yourself for many many Lewis and Clark references as I am currently reading the biography by Stephen Ambrose)

In much the same way that Lewis and Clark made their decision, I made mine.  Though the decision pained me in the extreme: the fluorescent lights, the noise of the air machines keeping the bounce houses and jump-jumps inflated, the ballpark caliber food, and the incessant squealing and scolding.  We must go to Monkey Joe's for the good of the mission as a whole, we could not examine the preferences of only one member of the party.  It was necessary to go with the greater good of all.

I will say that though I do deeply love my eldest child, our relationship since the entrance of baby #2 has SUFFERED immensely.  Someone is no longer potty trained, has violent tantrums, refuses to stay in time out and sometimes throws things at the wall or me.  It is all most unfortunate, and I have come to realize that it is quite possible to love someone, just not really like them for what I hope is a brief period of time.

Anyway, Monkey Joe's is a huge warehouse that is sort of like a McDonald's play place that has completely cracked out.  I would argue that the food is worse (yes, I do believe that is possible.  I firmly believe that ball park nacho fare is worse that anything Ronald McDonald is hawking.)  It is loud and large and fluorescent.  All the colors are primary and the staff wear's referee uniforms.  It is typically necessary to communicate by shouting over the noise of a symphony of air compressors.  The carpet has been stained by a legion of sweaty socked children dropping the crumbs of their giant pretzels as they talk with full mouths at a dead sprint to the next bounce house.

Also, Monkey Joe's advertises itself as a place where parents can meet and visit.  The problem with this is that I am currently not fit for human company.  I am generally dirty with spit up and leaks of various kinds.  I smell like sour milk and something else I cannot put my finger on, woe maybe.  The bags under my eyes indicate my level of exhaustion and should explain why my vocabulary is similar to the grunts and gestures of a caveman, and my ability cognate is slow to the point of retardation.  I do not want to meet and visit with anyone.  All I want is to sit quietly while no one says "mommy" or cries or asks anything of me. I wanted to wear my sunglasses inside, as the fluorescent lights felt like an an ice pick to my temples.  If you saw my toenails right now, you would be frightened.  They are like a cross between a fungus and a mer-person.

Anyway, on the upside, at Monkey Joe's my nine dollar admission price bought me three solid hours where no one bothered me.  The baby slept in his car seat the whole time and my oldest child ran around in spastic circles completely entranced by the bounce houses.  I wrote thank you notes, had a tasty beverage, and returned some emails.  Once home, my oldest took an extra long nap, affording me time to deal with birth announcements and collect myself as a person.  

So yes, things got desperate, there was no workout, and no, maybe I have not showered and my own toenails frighten me.  BUT, I did get three hours of time where no one talked to me, and I improved my relationship with my oldest child who I hope will look back on his joy today and bring me a piece of pumpkin pie when I am in the home.

Changes

And when I say that life seems easier now, it is really only on the worry front.  Other things that have changed include the amount that I work.  After my first child, I worked part time in the afternoons and sporadically on some Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I will say that I looked forward to work all day as a welcome break from being cloistered at home and an exciting way to earn money with which I felt quite independent and like a contributing member of society.

Of course, I am still a contributing member of society, BUT anyone who has had a job they seriously enjoyed and has given it up to stay at home with their family understands that there is a funny and for me, unpleasant, feeling of dependence.  Does this go away?  I am not really sure, but, for now, it is hanging over my head that I have no good reason to change out of my yoga pants.  I must change out of my yoga pants.

Also, pre-second baby, it was very easy to get in my workouts.  I could do a workout video while our only child was napping, I could get out the door to run before he woke up.  If he did wake up, one child was not too much to handle while my husband got ready for work.  Two children is whole different ball game.  There is serious timing involved to get in anything close to a workout and everyone is grumpy when asked to care for both children at once.

That said, our second child is only three weeks old.  Am I supposed to be working out?  Absolutely not. Do I sort of cheat and do some workout videos and power walks?  For sure.  Until our child is six weeks old, I am not going to pass any judgement on the state of my workouts, nor should I.  I will set down my gavel until Little G is at least six weeks old, maybe older.

Introduction

While struggling through the last eternity of a most difficult year that resulted in the birth of my second child, I had the (rather dramatic in retrospect) thought that I would start a blog about how I was going to pull my life back together after many changes.  My vision was of me starting my blog in the hospital after giving birth to my child and forecasting everything that was going to change beginning with the first day of his life.  After he entered the world very easily, it seemed that beginning a blog in the hospital was the silliest yarn that had yet entered my head.  It is actually difficult to blog when a nurse is coming in to administer pain meds, another coming in to check you vitals, someone bringing you a baby to feed and visitors coming in and out at all hours.

My whole blog dream just did not resonate once the birth actually happened, and I have now had three weeks to mull over the situation.  During those three weeks, I have been under a deluge of sleeplessness, 3.5 year old adjustment to the fact that his newborn brother is here to stay, and cleaning terrible terrible maternity clothes out of my closet.  I am sort of getting my head above water now, and feel that the time has come to begin my blog.

Confession: I love myself a blog.  There is something deeply satisfying about chronicling my endeavors. I had a previous blog, decided that it was time for something slightly different, and here we are: my new blog, Bouncing Back.

When I say Bouncing Back, I am not bouncing back from the worst that life has to offer, but it was a formidable year in terms of sobering events.  I had a miscarriage which resulted in a hospital stay which resulted in my becoming pregnant again pretty quickly.  The second pregnancy came with a distinct intolerance of dairy, gluten and food dyes, which I will say rocked my world.  Then, the latter third of my pregnancy was rife with worrisome bleeding, a hospital stay, bed rest, and finally the easy entrance into the world of our Little G.

So, I am now on the other side of being pregnant for a year, very different eating habits, and a freedom from the deep worry that sinks into your soul when you just sit around worrying about your unborn child.  It is amazing how easy life suddenly seemed when Little G made it safely to the outside.