Are those Scooby Snacks in your bra…or are you just happy to see me?

Ahhhhh, children. Beautiful, loving, patience-testing children. The things that my boys have taught me over the past 13 years have been immeasurable. For example…I didn’t know that the word ‘penis’ could be used as an adjective or verb…well you learn something new everyday. The biggest gift they have given me is to never take myself too seriously…and you never know what they are going to say next. Keeps life interesting…and well prepared with a stack of apology cards at the ready.

It’s bedtime. My youngest decided that he was going to sleep on our bedroom floor once again. This is a regular occurrence, so we don’t even bother folding up the blankets that make his make-shift bed. I don’t mind him in our room all that much, as I know that he is growing so fast and soon I will need to fold up the blankets for good.

It is hot as all get-out…as it is summer, so I am topless at this point. This is not a new thing around our house. The boys are not phased by this, and I am not about to hide myself away. The bed time routine had been great this evening (no wrestling, bruises or screaming…today we are winning). With a calm, smooth bedtime I am happy and super loving (take it while you can get it kids). My oldest is in bed and settled, so all I have left is to tuck in my little guy. As I lean in to get him all ‘snuggled-up’ he whispers in a sweet dreamy voice…

“Mama…”
“Yes, honey…”
“Mama, I love you”…oh my gosh, what a sweet loving child (my heart swells)
“Oh buddy, I love you so very, very much too”
“Mama…” my angel child coos…
“Yes, Aidan?”….
“Mama…your breasts are shaggy.”

And there it is. Real life. At least he used the word ‘breasts’…and I have now discovered another descriptor for the look of my breasts when leaning over (win-win). My child…the wordsmith…I have taught him well.

I am slowly going crazy…”1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6…SCHH”

It was a cold, dark morning. I had just finished putting on my workout clothes, with the intention of going into the garage home gym, after my first cup of tea. My husband had already left for work (as he should), so the house was silent. As I moved about the kitchen, I heard a rustling “schh, schh, schh, schh” sound. At first it didn’t seem like much, so I didn’t pay it much attention. As the preparations for my early morning sweat continued, I continued to hear the sound. Minutes passed, and the noise remained. No longer able to ignore the mysterious noise, I started to get scared. I rushed to the front of the house, “schh, schh, schh, schh” hoping that is was my cats making the sound. Nope, it wasn’t them (good kitties). I ran back to the kitchen, “schh, schh, schh, schh” hoping to catch the phantom noise. The noise continued to get louder and faster, “SCH, SCH,SCH,SCH,SCH”, and my heart pounded to match the pace, “bup, bup, bup, bup” I stopped, listened…nothing. Am I going crazy? Think Nicole, what is it, what is making that sound…use your logical brain…not the 9 year old “Owls are blood thirsty little-girl-killing monsters” brain. I took a slow step forward “schhhh”, and another ‘schhhh’…pause…then another two “schh, schh”. And with the last two steps, the logical brain and realization set in. The “schh, schh, schh, schh” sound was an auditory reminder as to why I was up this early and in my gym clothes.

Thigh gap, my friends…is something I am in short supply of.

Body Fat Reality Check

So I applied and was chosen for a 8 week local weight loss/fitness challenge with Kin’s Market in association with the BC Cancer Society. I was so excited to be chosen, for a few reasons.  The first is I need to lose weight.  Second you get free veggies, and the third is there is going to be some sort of grand prize, (last year’s challenger won a cruise).  I LOVE challenges….LOVE them.  I am also very competitive, so I am very stoked that I am going to win. 

Yesterday I had to have a full body scan to determine my body fat %, lean muscle and bone density.  While I knew that I had a higher percentage of body fat…as made apparent by my black wardrobe and abundance of stretchy pants.  I was not prepared for the actual number.  I thought “Oh I’m probably 38%…yeah that sounds about right.”

I was wrong…really, really wrong.

42.9%…42.9% people!!! What the hell body, why you gotsa play me like that!

Look at that number…I did, and have been since the scan yesterday.  I’m almost half fat, and I discovered my bones only weight 5.3 lbs.  So  my hopes that my Grandma was right when she said I was ‘big boned’, were dashed to the floor. Those dreams and my somewhat svelte-er 38% body fat façade were obliterated yesterday at 1:30 pm.

Well onwards and upwards.  My body scan read stated that I was 190.3 and my scale this morning told me I was 188.8, so that’s exciting (I hope you sense the sarcasm).  I am tracking with My Fitness Pal and use the protein/fat/carb percentages I was told to use yesterday by Mr. Scan/Dream-Dasher…Mr. DD for short. I’m familiar with tracking, just need to be consistent with it. Send me positive ‘fit’ vibes…I’m going to need it!

I am certain I am going to win this, not only for the awesome  prize, but more importantly for my awesome thighs…

 

Resolution…Smezolution…

Now that we are into the beginnings of February, I have decided to reflect on the past month and more importantly New Years…January 1st, and the false promises it brings. This magical day promises to bring new hopes, new goals and lots of change. At least this is what we have been taught to believe. I have never been one for resolutions. Well that is what I tell people…and by people I mean all my friends. By all my friends I mean 2 or 3 people I actually see, and then of course my 100 + Facebook friends. I decided a while ago New Years Resolutions are so late 90’s…and I am way to hip to say, “This year I am going to finally lose 20 pounds”. The word ‘hip’ itself, just solidifies my ‘hip-ness’. Now I like to sound way more transcendental, when posed with the horrid question “Do you make New Years Resolutions”. This all the while still maintaining my radical status of course.

So this year I boldly have told my 2.5 friends that in 2014 my ‘resolution’ is to, “learn to love myself the way I am”. Awww, so beautiful. Sounds like a novel idea, and one non-resolution more women could probably use. So how do I do this, how do I after 37 years learn to all of a sudden love myself in the body that I have? I have comprised a small list of ideas, some are not of my own creation, most will seem familiar…but here they are again. One more attempt to brain wash with self-help….

Idea #1 -Mirror Work-

You may or may not have heard of this, but the premise is you stand in front of the mirror, possibly naked and talk nice to yourself, out loud. I have heard from the more spiritual peeps out there, that this is a really great way to learn to love yourself. This may work, I don’t know. I can only talk to myself in my head, and it sounds something like “Uh you are…uh…nice and stuff…and I like your nose”. I think I will need to break the ice with myself, before I can go all the way and shout to my naked self in the mirror “Nicole you are one sexy bitch!” Maybe a candle lit bathroom, some music and bottle of wine will help. Yep that would probably do it. But then I would become an alcoholic. Then the following years non-resolution would be “Learn to love wine less”.

Idea #2 -Buy Those New Jeans Now! –

Buy something you feel good in, something that fits. Nothing worse then packing your ample Rubenesque lower half into your old jeans, because you refuse to buy something until you lose weight. The result of this harrowing task is a tight, strained mass of denim and flesh. It doesn’t matter that you squeezed into your size 12’s. When the outcome is reminiscent to a freshly opened Pillsbury Crescent roll tube…maybe a size 14 or 16 wouldn’t have been such a bad idea. Buy pants that fit, your midsection will thank you for it.

Idea #3 -Pretend-

Hmmm this is can be a tough one. The idea here is that you go around day to day, pretending you are okay with yourself in its current state. Speak nicely to yourself (see Idea #1), push those negative thoughts away, replace the bad ones with the good ones. Here is an example of something that one may say to themselves. Feel free to use the examples below if needed:

“Holy F#!@! my thighs are fat!”…try to replace this with

“Thank-you ample, sturdy thighs for allowing me to stand upright.” See how much nicer that is!

OR

“My arms are so huge…nothing fits them!”…change it to something more positive like…

“Wow, I am so glad that my arms are the size of my 13 year old’s thighs…it just makes my Hulk Halloween costume that much more authentic!”

See, really it is all about creativity and looking on the bright side of things. Yin and Yang, negative and positive, fat and padded.

Okay so some of these ideas…or affirmations you probably won’t find in most self-help books…and I am working on trademarking the Hulk Halloween affirmation (that one is gold), but you get the idea. Try to be nice to yourself, it’s the hardest thing you will ever do, but give it a try…I am.

WEIGHT LESSON OF THE DAY – Mirror work is hard to do when your mirror is dirty. Clean it and see what happens.

Does This Workout Program Make My Vagina Look Fat?!

Working out hard and for extended periods of time usually means a lot of sweat is involved. I don’t mind sweating, the more I sweat the more I feel like I have had a really good workout! In fact if I don’t sweat then I feel like I haven’t worked hard enough, and then I am angry and disappointed in myself.

A few months ago I had started a particularly intense style of training, that required separate days for upper and lower body workouts, and days designated for just cardio. The training required you to work hard and efficiently for a shorter period of time. Perfect…in and out of the gym is just perfect.

This program required you to put in 6 days a week. So I did, religiously, and I really liked it. I didn’t see much change in my body from the pictures I took at the beginning, and then again at 4 weeks. But I persevered…because I knew I was going to see some change sooner or later, I just needed to be patient.

Day in day out, working hard, sweating like a pig. The change is coming Nicole, just wait, it is coming. Besides I had been looking and searching the internet for reviews and other peoples experiences on this particular program and most were saying, “Oh just wait until Week 8, that is when it will really happen and the weight will literally fall off of you”. So as I checked off the days on the calendar I couldn’t wait until Week 8. I thought I will of course wait until the end of the week to weigh and measure myself, because then I was true to going for a full 8 weeks, I was so excited!!

The day had come and it was time to do my ‘weigh in’. I entered my bathroom expecting to see the naked body in the mirror 20 pounds lighter and totally ‘cut’. But that is not exactly what I saw. I took the measurements…down an inch. Weighed myself..down 2 pounds. Sure those numbers were going in the right direction, but I was disappointed as all get out. What the hell?! Well it must be that I am putting on lots of muscle, so the scale isn’t reflecting my true weight (whatever that means), and the tape measure is well just stupid…I hate you tape measure for not giving me what I wanted, how dare you treat me like this…after all these years.

As I justified the insignificant losses in my mind, and tried to make myself feel better, I began to notice one change in my body, which at first glance was pretty subtle. I noticed my vagina was looking a little “plumper”. Of all the parts on my body that have always been good to me, my vagina is it. It has always been low maintenance and served me well as a woman. But now I notice that it too has turned against me…tape measure and vagina are conspiring…but what’s the grand scheme, and how is that even possible?!
On further investigation I discover the cause of the ‘plump’ look. I have an ingrown hair. Sweat + hair = swollen labia. So after trying to remove ‘said’ ingrown hair, I have now irritated my lady parts to a level of “not good…really, really not good…holy shit, what have I done…this is not ok”. And now my vagina looks like a very very angry swollen, well vagina. I bucked off every last hair, hoping to remove all other forms of irritation. It was not one of my regular grooming sessions, where I pay attention to detail and make everything nice and pretty. This was a panicked shaving session. Hair was flying everywhere. The result, terrifying and uneven. Without hair, my vagina looked like it had gained 10 pounds or had a bad night of ‘too much salt’.

Explaining this one to my husband proved to be interesting. That area was now off limits until further notice. It looked like a war zone down there. Shit, I really did it this time.

Two weeks passed and the swelling subsided…I was more than relieved. Those two weeks gave me time to reflect on what I had done, and how important consistent grooming really is. My lady parts started to return to normal, and my husband started looking at me in the eye again. Life had been restored.

Weight Lesson Of The Day – Sometimes a workout program will cause weight gain, terrible unexpected vaginal weight gain. Consider this and consult a doctor before starting a new workout program…you have been warned!

Am I Getting The Proper Nutrition?

Feeling bored and overweight…again, I go in search of a diet or workout plan that will help me lose 10 pounds quick. No, 10 pounds is not all I need to lose at this particular point, but I figure it is enough to jumpstart me into an new regimine and get me excited about working out and eating well.

To the internet I go…I have LOTS of books with all sorts of different plans and info…I have tried all of them before…hmmm funny nothing has worked long term. Sometimes ‘trying’ means reading the book, and at the end thinking, “There is no way in hell I am going to be able to keep up that lifestyle!” So that book/diet obviously didn’t ‘Work’. So having spent money on hardcovers and running out of room on the “Diet Shelf”, I went to the internet in search of something eaaassssyyyyy.

Through my searching I somehow come across a 11 Day Diet aka Fat Loss For Idiots,claiming you will lose 9 lbs in 11 days. Oooh this one sounded perfect…I mean I must be an idiot if NOTHING has worked so far, and I am still overweight and struggling, my prayers have been answered. THE weight loss solution of the 21st century has been broken down for us idiots…FINALLY!!! The theory is you are eating certain types of foods four times a day for 11 days, then 3 days where you can eat anything and then you can start the cycle over again. The idea behind it was calorie shifting or something like that…speed up your metabolism, etc.

This sounded right up my alley. So I decided to pay the very minimal fee to sign up and get the meal plan online. I read the manual and looked at the meal plan generator. So I went out and bought some groceries. I wouldn’t be eating dinners with my family for 11 days, but dammit I would be svelte…and I am sure my family would appreciate that!!

So for the next 11 days I ate the weirdest combinations of foods…shrimp and cashews, brown beans and grapes…an all fruit day…an all veggies day…sausage links and pastrami, well you get the picture. My hubby just looked on, didn’t say a word, bless his heart. He even gave me the suggestion of making ‘cheese chips’ on my cheese and turkey slices day, just to switch things up.

I lost a couple of pounds, not the 9 in 11 days. I don’t even think I made it to the 11 days. This diet was NOT, nor ever will be sustainable…hmmm that sounds familiar. And as soon as you stop doing what you are doing…well that is it, isn’t it? The weight comes pouring back on with the speed and determination of one devouring cheese chips.

All I want, all most of us want I think, is to know how to eat again. I think there must have been a time long, long ago when we had the sense and internal knowledge to know how to nourish our bodies. There must have been a time like that…yesteryear perhaps. When did we lose that? When did the female brain loose it’s capacity to think logically and eat like a normal frickin human being. Why are we always struggling, always trying, always ‘on something’. It’s mind boggling, sad and confusing as shit. Not sure how we can fix it, and stop being told what to do or how to take care of our own bodies. I mean, we know how to clean ourselves, dress ourselves, pay bills…why do we need to be told how to feed ourselves. Bizarre. This world, the world of women is bizarre.

So I have retired the Fatloss For Idiots diet to the ‘Diet Shelf’ and hope my common sense will somehow just kick in by itself one day. I won’t be trying that one again…well not at least for a while…I mean I may realize I’m an idiot again and need to be told how to eat. So I won’t put that diet too far back on the shelf.

Weight Lesson Of The Day – The female brain needs somebody to tell it how to eat, or all hell will break lose, and left to her own devices, she just may eat something crazy like cashews and shrimp.

Looking For A Job Makes You Fat

So here I am feeding my hurt ego with a bowl…albeit small-ish bowl of jellybeans. I have been diligently working out at the gym 6 days a week, doing the Body For Life program for the past 8 weeks. I have cut out grains from my diet (only 2 slices of bread in the last 2 months), and only dropped 4 lame pounds. The trip to the medium sized bowl of jelly beans started this morning. My pants came uncomfortably close to falling off of me during my run at the gym. This unfortunately due to the breakdown of the pant structure…NOT from my extravagant 4 pound weight loss. That being said I went through my day thinking…I know how I will lose more weight! NEW PANTS!! Of course a cute new outfit would do the trick! So I began my search online for some cheap options for the prized butt enhancing Lululemons. I searched various sites trying to find the best deal. I came across one site which most definitely were knock-offs and seriously contemplated this much more affordable option. I could just imagine how fantastic I would look in my new Lululemonades with the new and improved ‘breathable crotch’, (hadn’t heard of this new option before, but maybe they were on to something). So stylish, so figure forgiving…so fresh. But after a few more searches on the ‘official’ website, I realized this new breezy feature was an additional bonus, featured only on this particular site. A bonus I was just not quite ready for…even if these knock-offs made my ass into a perky backside shelf! I’m a problem solver, so my mind goes to the next logical thought, “Oooh I know, I will get a job at Lululemon for the discount and yoga!” That is brilliant…I am soooo smart! I was super excited about that idea for about an hour. Even went so far as to fill out the online application, and come up with some witty inspirational things to add to my resume. I was stoked and pumped for how good my ass was going to look! Then the reality of the matter sent in…I would have to work…outside of the home. My ego piped up a bit, and common sense seeped in. I have two businesses on the go, and adding a part-time job at the mall so I can get a discount and a yoga class every now and then, didn’t really seem to be the wisest thing. So armed with my positive “manifest what you want” thinking…I thought, “Go to the mall, try on what you want and then you will have a clear picture”. If you try it on…it will come. The clear picture I was looking for was the price tag on what I wanted (my quazi-sensible side) AND to prove to myself that maybe, just maybe my pants were in fact falling off because my scale is broken and stuck at my old weight. Anything is possible. I head out with a prayer in my heart, “Lord above please tell me I can fit into a smaller size than my current pair”. I had high hopes for this pretend shopping spree! So the stage is set…I enter, walk straight to the wall of pants, and with confidence I say to the very lovely and helpful sales attendant, ”Oh I am a size 8”. She pauses, looks at the size 8 in her hands, opens them up, stretches them at the waist band, looks back to the shelf, and pauses again. Ugh, come on! This is painful…so I let sweet Size 2 off the hook, “Oh you know what, let me bring in a size 10 as well, just in case they fit small”…she agrees, hmmm that’s funny, I am starting to feel hungry. In I go, the room attendant asks for my name and what I am planning on using my pants for, I respond “Being active”…although had I been in a wittier state of mind I would have said something like, “sitting on the couch”, “parents school uniform”…or “none of your business!”…you know something like that. In I go, excited to try on pants that I cannot afford, but will afford because they are magic! I gear down, try hard not to look at my cellulite and tell myself it is waaaayyyy worse under the fluorescent lights. Grab my first pair of pants…a size 10, so I can be really happy when they fall off of me. I pack my generous thighs into a pair of reversible (black/lime green) cropped pants, and they are snug. So snug the black side looks green, not the intended look I don’t think. The fabric stretches and it’s not good…nope not at all. They must have changed their sizing since the last time I bought a pair of Lulu’s. I give another pair a try just for shits and giggles. Nope same results, the magic pants I have are broken…and nobody is giggling…or shitting, at least we can be thankful for some things. I leave quickly from the store, hoping Size 2 doesn’t ask me how it went. I guess I will need to wait for my magic pants until A) They get their sizing right, or B) They adjust their sizing. Today I have decided is full of amazing life lessons. One, my pants have no elastic left. Two, looking for pretend jobs online is a good time waster. And three, jelly beans taste better when they are fueled by disappointment and self-sabotage.

Weight Lesson Of The Day – Running without any pants at all would have made for a much more productive day!

Sore Achy Muscles

Now everybody knows that you need to change your runners every 6 months or you face the risk of your feet falling off. Well it’s not that serious…your feet won`t actually fall off, but you run the risk of damaging something. This is what ‘they’ say, and who am I to argue with the experts. I usually don`t track my shoe expiration date on the calendar, my lovely body usually lets me know when it’s time. So it may not be the ‘market place’ recommended 6 months but it becomes apparent by my aching shins. Once my shins start screaming I know it’s time to look at new pretty runners. Until I can afford my new kicks, I use a more inexpensive means of reprieve on my shins. The trusty ole muscle liniment. You smell spicy, cold and like an old person all at the same time…perfect.

Having applied my liniment on one particularly sore evening, I head upstairs to bed to sleep off the remainder of the pain. Hopefully I will wake up with less ache and more pep in my step. Not only I am burdened with the inability to walk, but I am also in the middle of my womanly biological requirements. Hooray! I finish up my nightly routine of face washing, and teeth brushing, and tending to my burden. I snuggle up in bed feeling the tingling and warmth on my shins. The particular muscle rub I use is really quite intense, so it really started to heat up. I try to drift off to sleep, allowing the waves of heat to soothe my sore shins. Sleep was not in the cards for me this fine night…no sir, not at all. Something is amiss. My focus slowly moves from my lower legs to a slight awareness in my lady parts. This isn’t the regular awareness one may have, like “Oh there’s my vagina”, it’s more like “What in sweet holy hell is happening with my vagina!!” My mind races as to why my vagina is turning from a slight tingle, to an intense burn. It all comes rushing back to me in slow motion. I see myself rubbing my shins with the liniment…applying the cap…reading the back of the bottle to ensure I have applied correctly, skimming over the ‘wash your hands thoroughly…that is when the the realization sets in…oh, my, merciful lord…I have turned my ‘yoo-hoo’ into a fiery pit of hell.

I jump out of bed, gear down as quickly as possible…and give myself a bit of a ‘whore’s bath’. I splash icy cold water at my vagina with the vigor and excitement of a baby in a wading pool. Water fully saturates the bathroom and my nether region is screaming. I continued to hose down the bathroom, hoping that my vagina will be the same after this experience. After about 15 minutes of splash, rinse, repeat, I finally feel the intensity lessening. I clean up the bathroom, grab some dry clothes, climb back into bed, and pray the ‘topical muscle relaxant’ has not completely reversed what my occasional Kegel work has accomplished.

Weight Lesson Of The Day – Instructions are meant to be read and listened to…and applicator-less tampons are good for the environment, but will not protect you from setting your vagina on fire.

Coming Clean…

I am not afraid to admit that I have thought to myself on more than one occasion… “Hmmm, if only I was 20-30 lbs heavier, I could go on ‘X’ (insert latest doctor prescribed weight loss miracle pill here)…AND have it covered by my medical!  SWEET! ” These are terrible thoughts but very true. Damn you minimum weight requirements! Always looking for the easy way out, and trusting that someone out there MUST have the cure to my weight problems, a pill has sounded good in the past.  Just take one a day, and you don`t need to change your diet OR exercise….oh sweet lord above, could it be!  But I am much smarter now, I am a grown woman, I know better than to trust ‘miracle pills’.  Weight loss and longevity with that weight loss come solely from eating clean and exercise…this has been drilled into my head…and I should listen to this.

So, my pill infatuation days are over.  Done.  No more silly `easy way out` schemes.

Oooh but Facebook did say some great things about Green Coffee Bean Extract…