I didn’t plan it this way but it would appear this week has a theme for me: small things to make a big impact. In my previous post I outlined some small and attainable goals I set for myself this week, now I know it’s only Tuesday but I am pumped to say, so far so good!
I already cleaned my room and doing so lead me to the next goal of being more intentional with myself and giving myself some space that was clean and full of good energy. Some of that energy is found in trinkets from loved ones and some in these Alex & Ani bracelets. My small collection of bracelets had sat hidden in my nightstand drawer for way too many months and I was very happy to dig them out yesterday.
Today with intention I put three on with the hopes that the clink of their metal against each other would remind me of what kind of energy I began my day with so I could carry it with me.
I chose the lotus, which is a symbol of our ability to bring new life out of the muck. Next was the Buddha who reminds us to go quietly within ourselves to seek wisdom and peace. Finally the LOVE charm because we should always walk through live with love. Love for ourselves and love for those around us.
Here’s hoping I can carry this momentum with me all day and through the week!
They say you can stay on track with a personal journey by setting small and attainable goals. When the days run together and you can’t remember if you brushed your teeth, that can be a challenge.
But here goes:
- This week I will prepare delicious but SIMPLE meals that will not take me six hours to prepare. (Dinner time is challenging as almost any mom of small people can tell you, so I need to make an effort to make this time of day easier on me.)
- This week Jackson and I will try new things. (Like story time at a different library)
- This week I will clean my room!
It’s a small list, but I think accomplishing these items will help me make the most of my days this week. I hope you have a great week too and feel free to share your goals with me!
I am really happy for everyone going out there and finding time to pursue passions, veg out or refill their cup however they see fit — I really am. But for all intents and purposes I am going to ask that self care as I know it to go suck it!
All this awareness about how important self care is to ensuring you are your best self has given me anxiety. Self care has become the latest thing I need to do on my to do list that never gets marked off. It’s something I think about, ok, something I daydream about doing and how wonderful I will feel after I do it. Only it doesn’t get done, then I feel like shit. I feel worse than if I hadn’t spent all that time trying to plot how I would do it while still keeping all other balls in the air; then I resent (if only for a moment) those around me who hinder me from getting this time for myself and I don’t like that feeling.
So I’m not going to think about self care anymore.
I know some day I’ll figure out how to go to the gym or read a book in less than a month but until that day comes I’m not going to continue giving myself a hard time about it.
I’ve got a million excuses about why I haven’t touched this blog in over a year. A million excuses named, Jackson. The toddler years are proving to be their own certain flavor of challenging. Did you know 2 year olds have likes and dislikes and opinions about things like pants? Mainly not wanting to wear them.
Anyway, I am going to try to visit my blog more frequently and write about the billion and one things we have going on. Inspiration has come from my needing to write things down (that’s why I started a blog in the first place right? ) and from my beautiful friend @rubyjnkie her blog, The Hungry Mother, is amazing and she is an inspiration to moms trying to keep their sanity everywhere!
Here’s to trying to blog with a small person around! I imagine it will look a lot like this…
It seems the monthly box craze has really hit its peak. With subscriptions including make up, snacks and even a box for your dog, surely there’s a box for everyone? Well, there wasn’t a box for me, that was, until I found Joe’s Brew Club!
My box arrived and I was so excited to dig in!
Here’s what came in the box:
1 bag of chocolate covered espresso beans
1 bar of dark chocolate
As a big coffee drinker the most exciting part of this whole box was, of course, the coffee! So I set my tools up and got to brewing! We are a house divided when it comes to coffee, I am a cafe au lait or latte lover and my fiance is a cold brew dude. So we each had our coffees prepped our favorite ways and neither of us were disappointed!
My favorite coffee contraption
Everything else in the box was equally enjoyable. There’s nothing quite like dipping biscotti into a steaming cup of joe. I would definitely recommend signing up if you’re into trying new things, especially new caffeinated things.
Thanks for sending this box my way, Joe’s Brew Club, I thoroughly enjoyed it.
I always thought it was customary for new moms to look a bit tired, disheveled even. Typically a new mom has just pushed or had a human surgically removed from her — doesn’t that sound tiring? She has endured a world-wind of emotions, pain, hormone fluctuations and survived all that to have a human or in some cases, a machine systematically suck milk from her breasts — yep, sounds tiring to me! While breastfeeding is a beautiful bond between mother and baby, the bond between mother and pump is not so picturesque, but I digress.
Aren’t people always griping about the ‘fourth trimester’? Did I misinterpret the message from the moms that came before me? No, I’m sure I didn’t. So it must be me. I must be some sort of fake new mom, right? The surprised tone in your voice when you tell me how tired I look certainly conveys that message. I get it, it’s confusing because you haven’t actually seen me and my baby together. I don’t have the typical complaints about cluster feeding, diaper blowouts and how many times the baby woke up the night before. But I’m not faking new motherhood, folks.
I am no different than any new mom I have known, but my tired is different.
Here’s a glimpse into my version of new motherhood:
I look tired because I don’t have the luxury of experiencing new motherhood in my home. The place where I feel safest and most secure is the place I spend the least amount of time. I look tired because despite the fact that I don’t hear my kid crying for me at 2 or 3am I am up at my pump making sure milk will be made available to him when he needs it. I look tired because I have to go to work every morning despite only getting a few hours of broken sleep. I look tired because I lug around the weight of a baby but instead of an adorable cooing creature, it’s a bag full of equipment I need so I can stop what I am doing every two hours and sit at my pump. I look tired because despite the best intentions of friends and loved ones I still have to do dishes, lug the laundry to the laundry mat and try to keep my home together.
Mostly I look tired because having a baby in the NICU is the single hardest thing I have ever experienced in my life. Worrying about O2 saturation, Brady’s, feeding tubes, and nasal cannulas is how I spend my days. I look tired because I was at the NICU until late and back again bright and early. I look tired because the moment my son’s chest meets mine it’s like the weight of the world has been lifted and I finally feel at peace.
It won’t be this way forever but right now this is exhausting. So yes, I look tired.
When I was fat, (yea I said it) I would avoid numbers like the plague. Clearly the most avoided number was always the number on the scale. Alongside that was the number on my jeans indicating the size, the number of calories in the meal I just had, the number of promises to myself to make a change I had broken and the list goes on. My life was basically a game of numbers, or avoiding them.
Now, 60 or 70lbs later I find myself in a similar dark place. At least a year ago when I was avoiding numbers it was out of sight and out of mind. Now, I obsess over all kinds of numbers! How many calories/carbs/protein were in that meal I just had? How much did I do on my deadlift/squat/barbell curl last week in comparison to this week? How many miles did I run/not run? What’s my body fat percentage like these days? How many inches have I lost? I find that at times I have made myself crazy over these numbers, but then I STOP.
I force myself to collect my thoughts; I breathe in the positive and let go of the negative. Or better said, the anxiety of numbers that overwhelms me.
This method of breathing in the good shit and breathing out the bullshit is a constant struggle, much like keeping up a healthy lifestyle is. I’ve posted before about moderation, trying and being happy with small accomplishments and I believe that in my heart of hearts but sometimes that voice in the back of my mind is so loud I cannot silence it.
I debated whether or not to share this part of the “journey” but I have to share my truths. If there’s a chance others feel this way too there’s no reason not to put it out there. We should all know that this can happen, that it’s ok and that you can get over and keep on going.
I’m done feeling sorry for myself (yet again). I’m getting over this hump and I know, if you find yourself on it, you can too.
I’ll file this under the first world problems category and go kill my next workout. xo