Gym Woes

I did two things differently at the gym yesterday than i normally do. 1) I ran with music. 2) I wore a t-shirt instead of a tank top. Who knew these two small, insignificant changes to my routine could cause so much inner turmoil.


1) I recently indulged and got an iPhone (just the 4, people. No Siri in my life.) So I'm loving having Pandora at my fingertips and that was reason enough to invite music on my little treadmill run. Believe it or not, I usually run with nothing but my breathing to keep me company. Well, I cued up my Fugee radio station and got to running. And I was loving it. Enough so that I was getting these urges to break out in song and harmonize with my girl, Lauryn Hill. And let's not act like I can sing. Not that it matters- you just can't be doing that at the gym. Leave the grunting, moaning, and singing at home bc no one wants to hear it. And then that one song comes on...."You, you got what I need, but you say he's just a friend, but you say he's just a friend. OH BABY you...." You know the one. And how can you not sing along to this? I'm trying to just mouth the words but every now and then my vocal chords get hold of one those words and lets it escape. Before I know it, I'm exerting as much energy to stifle my singing as I am to running. A lot of work running with music.


2) So I'm a little embarrassed to share this confession but here it goes. So I HATE having my armpits covered when I work out. Drives me crazy. I can FEEL the heat increasing, the sweat gathering, and it's trapped, has no where to go. Which is why I have a strict 'tank-top only' policy for working out. How in the world did I talk myself out of it yesterday? I don't know but I threw on a super light V-neck tee and was out the door. Well I get a mile or so into my run and I'm starting to feel border-line schizophrenic. I'm having the urge to rip my clothing off, only to be compared to the one time I was tricked into natural child birth and had the same urge. I was just a yanking at the hospital garb trying to get NAKED. I was that hot and desperate. You know your mind's not quite in the right place when you reach that level. So that's where I found myself yesterday. Remember last post about not taking a stance? Well I'm about to take a stance- I don't like girls wearing just their sports bra at the gym. I think it's unnecessary. Keep it classy. On with the story. I find myself in a predicament. I'm about to lose my dang mind with this t-shirt yet it goes against "me" to take my shirt off. But I'm desperate and can focus literally on nothing else other than FREEING MY ARMPITS. So the shirt had to go. I at least left it draped around my neck, hanging over my bra and some of the tum-tum. But no doubt I was bare backing it, sides exposed, and let's be honest...a good part of the stomach. I was essentially one of "those" girls for a good 15 minutes. But drastic circumstances call for drastic measures. Do forgive me. I was out of my mind. I am more recommitted than ever to my tank tops.


Lesson learned. I must still be traumatized by the whole situation...couldn't get myself to my favorite class this morning. Think I must still be hiding my face....and my back....and my tummy.

Who are you?

I was out for dinner the other night with my friend and was dying laughing when she described herself in her own words........"Often wrong. Never uncertain." Why is this so funny? Like with most humor, it's derived from truth and this is a girl who sees life in black and white and presents everything she says as FACT. Which is why I'm often hammering her for an opinion fact on any and every subject I have a question on.


Now how would I describe my own self? It would probably go a little something like this, ............"Always uncertain. Next to never wrong. Why? Because I take a stance on....well, almost nothing." Oh yeah and probably finish that up with, "Peace. Love. Do your thing." Coming from a girl who undoubtedly sees the world in ...gray. How did this happen? Aren't you supposed to be more sure of more things the older you get? Well somehow the opposite is happening to me. The older I get the more I think that life is summed up- rather than in right and wrong, black and white- that different decisions yield different outcomes and these outcomes fill different niches in life, ya know? So maybe take a look at the path you're decision making is taking you and decide if you want to continue on that ride or change the route.  That's how I look at things.


How do you view it all? Are you a black and white, all or nothing kind of person? Are you nothing but shades of gray? Is there an exception for everything? How would you describe yourself? Just try, it's kinda fun/funny.


Now the other thing I love about this friend was her follow up comment. She was all, "I'll be the first to say 'scratch that idea I had before. I've changed my mind." Meaning, don't hold her to any of her opinions facts because she is an ever-evolving thinker. And you know what? I think that is what holds me back from taking a side on issues- I feel like I'm making a forever decision that has to hold up...well, for forever. 


You know that saying "YOU HAVE TO STAND FOR SOMETHING OR ELSE YOU'LL FALL FOR ANYTHING"? At this point in my life, consider me on the ground crumbled to next to nothing. BUT in thinking about all of this, I'm considering taking more stands. At the risk of being wrong. Or at the risk of allowing myself just a momentary stance. ALWAYS open to changing my opinion next month, next week, or more likely....tomorrow.  We'll see how it goes. But always keep at the forefront......"PEACE. LOVE. DO YOUR THING." That's me.

DeeDee Lukey

Wow someone hook me up with some professional grade earplugs because Deeter is L.O.U.D. loud. Now I'll admit that there are many times that I find this characteristic charming, endearing, and down-right funny, but 7 am is not one of those times. "Moooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm where did my uh-oh  {binki} go?" "Mooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm I can't find my uh-oh. You come help me?" And put this on repeat until I finally take the pillow off my head, surrender to the yells, and get my big booty out of bed and moving. Gone are the days when he hung out in his crib for a good hour after he woke up, allowing me to get many a things done. No, not just extra sleep. I'm talking dressed, breakfast made, lunches made, and then haul him out of the crib {unless Dallin had already beat me to it}. He has learned that loudness gets results. Which is why he's employed this tactic both in the mornings and after naps.

I must confess this isn't a foreign yell at all. It has an all-too familiar ring to it. I remember laying in my bed at a young 19-years-old just a hollering, "MOOOOOMMMMMMM." When AJ finally responded to my incessant calls, she was usually met with a, "Can you puh-lease bring me a glass of water?" It was endearing, ya'll. Worked like a charm every time as she gave me that smile and the exasperated, "GAbey." But every time she reappeared with some coldy water for me. Now admittedly 19 might be a bit old to be causing that kind of ruckus but I'd argue that 2 years old is too young. 

SIMMER DOWN, DEETZ. POR FAVOR. YOU HAVE THE REST OF YOUR LIFE TO BOSS ME AROUND.

Hmmmmm.....

We were late for school yesterday. More correctly, Porter was late for school; Dallin was on time courtesy of a neighbor. Believe it or not, this is actually a positive thing. Because the alternative might have been an all-out fight at 8 am. This was evidence- and not the first of it- that "plan B" is working. The details are as follows: if Porter is ready for school {which is a list of about 5 things} when it's go-time, he earns a Wii game of 5 on 5 football for the afternoon. And if he's not ready, he doesn't. And apparently the side note to that choice is that we will also be late for school. This is the first time we've been late since the plan was intact. I'm learning what compromise really means. Being on time is important to me. Playing the Wii is important to him. If we work together, we both get what we want. If we struggle, well neither one of us gets what we want. I guess I'm learning that, to me, it's worth it to compromise being on time for no yelling? Hmm, I didn't even know that about myself. Learn something new all the time. And there was no yelling or screaming {from either party} in the morning. And there was no Wii in the afternoon.

Now "plan B" was created after "plan A" had a miserable crash landing, possibly never even made it to take-off. Last week I was praying and strategizing- I needed a new way to handle/discipline/mother this Pistol Pope of mine. Things have been a bit on the rocks, como se dice. And in that prayer, a plan was developed. For three days I was going to remain calm in iffy situations and give Porter more leeway. And hopefully that three days would allow us both the opportunity to push the restart button for how we communicated. I felt like I needed to take more responsibility for my actions and have that be my focus. So with a plan in place, I was ready to go face my day.

Well I'll tell you what it wasn't 30 minutes into "plan A" before I found myself screaming at him {yes, you read correctly} and.......brace yourself.....hitting the bill of his hat. I know, embarrassing. Feel embarrassed for me and look away from the computer screen. I don't know what exactly was faulty in this plan- whether it was the plan itself or my aversion of commitment that took no longer than 30 minutes to kick in and send me flying off the handle in panic mode, claustrophobic by the thought of sticking to something for another full 2 days and 23 1/2 hours . Either way, it was about that long before I was back to square 1, and really less than square 1 if there were such thing cuz it usually takes a lot longer than 30 measly minutes into the day to get me that fired up. Talk about digging a hole....

So plan B was devised on the double and has thus far produced success on the good and not-so-good days. In fact we've actually had a really good week. I'll tell you what, this thing of trying to raise a kid that is JUST LIKE YOU is for the birds. Oh the parody.... how often that the child most like you is the one you have the most clashes with? What is the lesson in that?!! {The things that make you go Hmmmmmm.....} We're gonna make this work, I'm not giving up on you, Porter P!!!

In case you need a laugh....

......take your pick.


-I bent down to pick up Kaia's car seat, threw my arm under the bar, went to stand up........but somehow just got dropped. And went down. On my bum. And then kinda rolled back. All in slow motion. Oh why yes, thanks for asking.... of course I was in public.


-I took the kids for frozen yogurt. They yogurted and topped and we went to pay and I pulled my $20 $2 out of my pocket..........awkward.  I mean are they really going to throw away the yogurt that only we can consume? We had an uncomfortable 2 seconds of eye contact as we looked for the next step. {I don't know how that $3 hid itself in my stroller but thank you.}


-There's this crazy lady that walks around our town with a baby in a Bjorn, one in a stroller, and usually a couple more walking alongside. She gets quite a few "looks". Well, yesterday the smallest boy took off across the street at a semi-busy 4 way stop with no adult in tow. A policeman came out of the woodwork and swooped him up before a car could run him over.............. You already know where this is going. Imagine the death looks I was getting now that they thought the crazy lady couldn't even take care of all her dang kids. As if I wasn't already humiliated....


-Dallin came home from his friend's house telling me about a little tiff- how he got an interception, and how "Harrison was complaining like hell."  I had Dallin B on the phone with his dad in about 2.2.  "No no no, Dallin...verBAtim. You tell your Daddy VERBATIM how the story goes." {"Mom, Dad won't stop laughing...."}


And that's a wrap. Happy Friday!

♥ to ♥

I was thinking this week about being a mom and three specific incidents came to my mind.


I remember being in my last semester of college when I heard about "Teach For America", a program designed to offer the teacher a way to get credentialed while being paid. The assigned classroom was usually in the inner-city somewhere like a reservation. I had opted out of a teaching degree because I wanted to graduate at the same time as Yosh and as soon as I gained a focused career path, it always involved working with at-risk youth. So my heart spiked at this opportunity. I gathered a little information and started the initial application process before it all came to a halt. I was very pregnant. As appealing as this job was, we had decided I would stay at home with the baby. And as much as I tried to talk myself into it, I knew I didn't have the personality to fully commit myself to both, nor did I truly want to. I remember being in the bathroom at the JKHB, and, alongside a little disappointment, I felt with surety that it was my calling to be at home. 


Fast forward a couple babies later, might as well have been a lifetime later. The kids were at home with a baby-sitter and I was out running errands. I walked into Staples, checked off my list, and went to pay. As I stood in line, I looked admiringly at the cashier. "I bet......she looooves her job," I thought. I imagined her getting in her car everyday, the music blaring, sun pouring in through the sunroof, probably sipping on a sodie, driving to work to hang out with her co-workers/friends. "Yep, she must. This would be sooo fun." I tried bringing myself back to really, "Come on, Gay, this is Staples. She can't possibly love her job." {Not knocking STAPLES, you get the point though.} I tried my hardest to infuse reality and talk myself out of this conclusion but I just wasn't buying it. Point-blank...she must love her job and I was jealous. I wanted to be a Staples cashier.


This third incident occurred while I was driving in my car, once again with two kids at home, and I was feeling pretty miserable. If I remember correctly, Yosh got a phone call that went something like this, in a whisper, "I hate my job.....I wanna quit." I don't remember how the rest of the phone call went, but I drove around for awhile because I didn't want to go home to reality. I needed a brief run-away. And somewhere in that drive, a seed was planted that has overtime blossomed. The thought that has become my roots and anchor is this.... I chose to be a stay-at-home mom. I'm not one because I have to be, or because my religion suggests that as an ideal route, or because my husband wants me to be. I chose it. And I continue to choose it every time I'm tempted to be something other than that. In all honesty, it seems very sexy to be a little something professional, have a career of my own and succeed at it {which- quick news flash- I would never succeed at. That'll be a great post someday...my job history and so-called work ethic...}. And sometimes I've even tried to ignore what I know to be right for me and chase sexy but no matter how I try to tip-toe around it, I know what I want and I know what is right for me. "The grass is greener on the other side" sometimes sends me for a walk, but I always get pulled right back to my side of the fence, which is why I'm currently trying to refund my way out of a business venture I invested in.  I have found not only freedom in knowing the choice was mine to choose, but also empowerment, and this derived strength has pulled me out of many a black corners and served as an anchor during the storms.

Now although I love being a stay-at-home mom, I'm not necessarily advocating for stay-at-home moms; I'm advocating for being pro-active in making a decision and then owning it. The shared experience happened to be my vehicle for learning this principle. This lesson has enabled me to apply the same principle to many other facets of my life. So just my thoughts for the day...wherever you are in life, no matter how different your path may be from mine, a common factor across the board is that the path is sometimes hard and dissatisfying. A small key for navigating the turbulence is owning your position. Once you come to terms with that, you can choose to continue in the same route or make changes. You can taste the liberation and often times that feeling of freedom gives you all the power you need to push through.


Suerte, my friends!

Picture me Rollin...

Remember when I was wah-wahing about getting this new ride? Well friends, lay your worries to rest because I've adjusted well. And it has nothing to do with the salesperson telling me it looked just like the Mercedes SUV. I would've thought it was a sales tactic....until my sis piped in with the same observation. So truth be told.....I bought a knock-off Mercedes. Anything to boost my ego. But my questions regarding "the" Mercedes:


-Can you smash a Razor in your trunk with only the push of a button?
-Can you cut back on quality family time by playing the Wii in the Mercedes?
-Can you smash your fingers in the door with the push of a button?
-Can your kids leave the doors open time and time again because they only have to push a button?
-Can you almost lose your whole head while loading groceries with only the push of a button, meanwhile turn around to see your cart on a full sprint through the parking lot?

I don't think so.


There is just one area of adjustment I'm working on....I feel weird rolling around blaring my 93.5 in the Odyssey. But when a little Snoop Dogg or Too Short or B.I.G. comes on, there is no choice but to blare. Zip your lips with the scolding por favor....it's my guilty indulgence. I should be a 17-year-old in the LBC sometime circa 1980. Instead you got a 30-something in the Palisades in 2011. Some how this might feel more appropriate in ......anything but a white minivan.

What's a girl to do?

This baby lady of ours is just a growing up. I can hardly stand it. Except that each new stage has us just as enamored as the one before. I mean how can you resist a "clicking" baby? Ohhhh she'll be clickin. When she's happy, here comes the clicks. When she has something to say, it begins. If her clicking is at all representative of her talking....we'll have a chit-chatter on our hands... I can't wait!!  And I love when she's tired and I lay her down how she starts thumping her leg like a little rabbit . And how with the least bit of attention she turns on a smile that lights up all of L.A. I love her. And how she reaches for everything foot first and can stretch those legs of her out to make perfect 90 degree angles. It's amazing. (Don't worry, give me about 2 or 3 months and she'll hit the stage that starts driving me crazy and the gushing will finally stop. But until then, indulge me.)

The only thing leaving me dissatisfied with the whole baby thing right now is the fact that she's 100% on the bottle and my seasonal lady friends have deserted me, once again leaving me with a chest that resembles that of a 12-year old boy. I mean seriously...isn't that the least of keepsakes I could have after all the pregnancies and nursing I've been through? Huh uh. Apparently too much to ask. Word on the street is they're being held ransom until I decide whether or not I'm willing to buy them back..... What's a girl to do? 

I was driving past the hospital today when an unexpected lump arose in my throat. Nostalgia sank in so much deeper than I would have expected. I was driving my "for sale" Honda Pilot- our stepping stone from 1 to 2 kids.  It took my breath away as we used a big chunk of our savings as a down payment- a huge leap of faith for me-but then breathed life right back into me as it was the SUV I just had to have. It is the car that drove me to the hospital to have two of my babies. And it was the car that we brought three babies home in. The Pilot will soon be gone. And the hospital I passed most likely won't host anymore birth-giving parties. And to me there is no day more special than birth-giving day. Anticipating it is like the night before Christmas as a little kid. Except that each night of the last two weeks have been like the night before Christmas. So imagine the accumulative effect. The adrenaline, excitement, and jitters are at an all time high.  I thank my lucky stars that all four births have been healthy ones and relatively normal in spite of a couple hiccups. So when that baby comes out and accepts life, and the bond is for the first time physical, time literally stands still. There's this small window- when you've unloaded the burden of being pregnant but have yet to take on the reality of a newborn- where everything is perfect. Ignorance is uninhibited and love encounters no walls. Life freezes- just for you- and allows you to drink it up, to have your cake and eat it too as the saying goes. I would trade in Christmas every year in exchange for a birth-giving day once a year. To taste that euphoria if only for a few hours. But since Christmas is set in stone and I can't handle the exponential stress that each baby brings, it'll all remain a memory that each day falls more into the distance. Although reaching for those days, those 4 special days, will leave me with only thin air and empty hands, today I have all my growing babies to love on and hold close.

(an inspiration from 71toes.blog- write down what mom is thinking in the pictures. some day both the kids and i will want to know about mom. Tonight (which is when this pic was taken) I was thinking how sometimes it's great when daddy's out of town because cereal for dinner at 7:00 or whenever is great. i was thinking "how is it possible that baby girl loses a spoonful of baby food in her knee rolls?" i was wondering how not having school the next day eases all the stress even though the night routine doesn't change much. I was thinking how much i love my kids and how awesome it is to be their mom. Ok, no I wasn't but it sounds good, right!)