A birthday and a fit

Today was a big day in our household. Big A celebrated her 5th birthday. She started the day with breakfast in bed and then received her coveted American Girl doll, Julie. She was the happiest of happy girls. Then J picked up munchkins for her to share at school and she got to be queen for the day, choosing the book for storytime, lineleader and whatever else qualifies as preschool prestige.

Speaking of preschool, we're down to a week and a half left of the school year. My girl has come a long way since she started in September as a shy 4-year-old. She has blossomed academically and socially, now running up to hug her friends and being excited to attend birthday parties and playdates. She even asked if she could invite her teachers over for dinner one night! I will miss those wonderful ladies who have helped give her this new-found confidence and joy in learning.

When I picked the girls up from school today, Little A had not taken a nap and she had woken up at 6 a.m. this morning (as is her new usual, sob). So it was no surprise that she seemed a little cranky. She insisted on getting in the car on her sister's side, then plopped in the middle of the car and wouldn't budge. Long story short, by the time we got home, she was in hysterics or having a "fit" as we call it around here.

I took her upstairs to her room for a time out and then went downstairs to give her some time to cool off. Eventually her screams tapered off and then I didn't hear anything else. I went upstairs to check it out and found this right at the top of the staircase:

Yup, she passed out - stone cold. And being the good mom that I am, of course I grabbed the camera immediately to document it:

Hee, well at least I know that tiredness causes fit which is useful, if obvious, information.

Kids - gotta love 'em. In the five years that I've now been a mom, I've been through so many ups and downs. And honestly? They never stop surprising me, making me crazy, making me laugh and most of all, making my heart grow.

Mother's Day 2012

For the second year in a row, I was lucky enough to spend Mother's Day weekend at the beach with both my mom and my kids, as well as my sister and two of her kids (when you have four kids, I only invite half ;-)). We once again lucked out with beautiful weather and enjoyed lots of sun, sand and some good eating. We're making memories here, people. :-)

Rollercoaster

Little A has been going through a "phase" lately. Its all too familiar to me as Big A went through it right around age 3. Tantrums, fighting me on everything, whining, getting up too early. Its enough to exhaust any mother. It's been a struggle to keep my patience, and I'm not proud that I haven't always been able to. 

But it's funny with kids. When things get easy, they throw you for a loop. And when things get hairy, they throw you a bone to let you know that the struggles are worth it. Tonight was one of those times. It was just a normal bedtime routine, but sometimes those are the special ones. I read "I'll love you forever" to Little A and found myself tearing up as I always do when I read that book.

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living, 

My baby you'll be.

Little A was snuggled into the footie pajamas she loves (she calls them "holders" for her feet), this pair featuring a pink mouse. Whatever the animal of the night is, she embodies with all of the passion of a two-year-old. I get to play too as she deemed me "Mommy Mousie." She really gets into it, crawling around and squeaking. We even planned her lunch for the next day - cheese, cheese and more cheese.

Then I went to put Big A to bed and as usual, she begged me to stay for a minute and talk. She loves our talks and never wants them to end. She tells me about her day and then asks me to tell her stories. I try to think of funny stories from when I was a kid, or just make something up - ha. 

I left her room feeling full instead of empty like I sometimes do at the end of the day. Yes, they drive me crazy on a daily basis. But then, there's this ~ my girls, sisters:

Sisters

Are you there me? It's me - Ali

Instead of rushing to pick the girls up immediately after work today, I made my way down to the fitness center in my work building (nice perk, right?). After 30 minutes on the elliptical trainer, I worked up the nerve to ask the trainer to show me a basic lifting routine. He was happy to oblige and showed me various machines. I was embarrassed that he had set the weight near the lowest notch for most of them. I asked him if I was the most out-of-shape client he'd trained. "No," he said kindly. "You'd be surprised how many people are in worse shape than you." Oh.

Then he asked me if my goal was weight loss. Ouch. My sister tried to convince me that was a normal question, but being sensitive me all I could think was that I must look so large that of course the only reason I'd be in the gym was to shed pounds. I am no longer in the realm of *giggle, giggle, I just want to tone up a little!* Nope, now its pretty clear that the past year or two has not been kind to my waistline.

I left the gym feeling like I wanted to die. But also, like maybe I was rediscovering a piece of myself that's been gone for a long time.

It made me think of the time period before my wedding, which was perhaps the most selfish time period of my life. I was caught up in planning an event that was all about ME (okay, and J but he was secondary). I was a pretty princess. I had a personal trainer at a swanky city gym. I got my nails done every week. I went shopping for honeymoon clothes and charged it to a credit card. I went "low-carb" and downed expensive chocolate protein drinks and sugar-free Jello cups. It was all about ME. And it was glorious. But it couldn't last forever - nor would I want it to.

That focus on myself has now been replaced (mostly happily) by a focus on the little people that marriage brought about. Parenthood is about sacrifice by definition. And I was glad to do it, and still am. But maybe its time to bring back a little of me. To be healthy again. I credit my return to work for this new attitude. I like working. Its hard to be away from the girls...but honestly? Its not that hard usually. And I don't mean that in a bad way, but in a "why am I apologizing and feeling guilty for providing for my family?" J doesn't seem to blink twice about going to work and fitting in time for fitness. So why should I? Not to mention that I actually like what I'm doing. I love to write and its wonderful to get recognition for it, to get paid for it. And what's wrong with that?

At the end of the day, its all about balance. Scheduling in three workouts each week is three hours that I am taking for myself. To focus on my body and getting it back to where it needs to be. To stop making excuses and start doing something. To set a good example for my girls. To show them that even though you can't have it all, you can certainly try.

And with that said, my muscles are already yelling at me and telling me that I need to slow my roll. Take my time and remember that a lot has changed since I was a pretty princess with time for daily workouts. And I wouldn't have it any other way.