Gonna Make You Sweat

Since having my son and even before, staying in shape has been pretty important to me. I have to say that after a baby, the weight comes off, but it definitely takes A LOT of time and effort. I didn't put too much on during my pregnancy. I gained 30 lbs respectively. Much of that comes off after you actually give birth and then you're left with the most stubborn 10-15 lbs that you've ever encountered. It's more about the inches than the pounds though, in case you're one of those people who is scale obsessed. The scale always takes time to catch up with the work that you're body is doing. The gym has not only served as a place to get and stay in shape but it is also a place for me to actually be "Me" for an hour without having to worry about my son tugging at my pants to be picked up or having a separation anxiety attack based on the fact that I have to use the bathroom and I dared to walk away to use it. As I ran downstairs today, my husband stood holding the baby. I knew that it was going to be a mission to make my way out of the house without my son having one of his separation anxiety attacks. I needed to make a swift and clean break. I grabbed my headphones, cell phone, I touch and keys and ran out the door. I didn't escape without hearing the cries of my baby, which always makes me feel guilty for leaving. "You need to get out....... you need the release......you need to fill your body with those endorphins!". Positive self talk. I do it all the time. It helps me make sure I remember who I am. Oh lord, soon I'll have to put sticky notes all over myself like in the movie Memento to remind myself to eat and sleep too. I make my way past the noise of treadmills, steppers, grunting and some flying sweat and find myself at the last treadmill with the sun beating through the window. "Should have worn my bathing suit, could have gotten a nice tan.". I'm thinking of the part in Wayne's world when they're walking through the desert dying of heat and dehydration. I like my gym. It always smells as if it has been completely sanitized. This isn't the case today though. On the right of me is a man that is dressed in a hooded sweatshirt, sweatpants and a sweatband across his head. We are having a very mild winter might I add. This guy looks like he is dressed for the storm of the century here. Did I mention the heat of the sun beating through the window. I step on the treadmill and I want to throw up. Holy B.O. ! The smell of this guy's sweat is ridiculous. I mean seriously, I saw a special on people like him who wear hot and heavy clothing to try to burn extra pounds at the gym. He was definitely burning pounds and I was suffering the consequences. The worst part is that his sweat is flying everywhere. It is attacking me from every angle like an out of control sprinkler. How is no one looking as disgusted as I am right now, how is......oh shoot he's looking at the look on my face, I flash a smile that says " Hi, do you understand how your stench is killing me right now and that I am completely grossed out by your sweat sprinkler? No you probably don't. Have an awesome workout!". Sometime during my run, somewhere in between me rewording songs on my i touch to try to make light of this situation...... " You're sweating and I know it, yeah look at that sweat fly....yeah look at that sweat fly...you work out !.....a woman begins talking to my sweat soaked neighbor. Apparently he went to high school with her daughter. From listening to him talk, he sounded like one of those "know it all" types of people. The question is though.....does he know about his sweat and how it is affecting me right now? Is it affecting this woman that is talking to him right now? She seems like she knows him well, I'm waiting for her to pass out mid sentence, I can kind of see her face crunching up during the conversation as well. People clear out that section of the gym pretty quickly. Remember, mine was the only treadmill available. I guess  I can safely say I know why now. I continue my run, interval by interval, faster and slower, uphill, downhill. My imagination is going as it so often does. Chariots of fire playing as I run around a track as fast as I can, only when I get to the next runner in the relay receiving the baton, it is Mr. Sweaty sweatshirt man and I pass him a bar of deodorant. He smiles and says "thanks, I'm sweating bullets" and I smile and say, "I know, I can smell it!".

Strength In Numbers

Why is it so hard for me to muster up the strength to go out on the weekends. It couldn't be because I spend my days playing, laughing and rolling around with my one year old right? That could be a big part of it. It could also be because my son is going through the separation anxiety phase in a "hardcore" kind of way. We can't even be separated if I have to go to the bathroom. We have to be in the same room at all times. If we are not, it is not long before I hear the pitter patter of little footsteps followed by a barely detectable to suddenly penetrating cry that seems to say " Where do you think you're going mom? Get back here now! I need you to hold me! ". I take a deep breath, run my fingers through my now knotty hair which I did actually brush and put back into a neat ponytail this morning (though it never seems to stay that way), open my arms and swiftly scoop up my little guy. Lately he reminds me of the captain of a ship. Every time I pick him up, he uses his pointer finger to just point to things. He points to anything. He's like a little compass. There are definitely some things that he points to because he wants them, like a banana per say. Most of the time though, he'll just  point in different directions as you walk him into a different room. It's like he's discovered his pointer finger and he wants everyone to know. It is very cute but it becomes tiring when he just begged me to pick him up and now he wants to get down, but wait......no.....no......he wants to be picked up again......annnnnnnnnd........now he wants to go down. I guess it's true, what goes up must come down, must go up must come down and "ooooooouch! My arms are killing me!". I should have the most toned arms out there right now with all of this up, down business. This leads me to the real story. I think that when you're married, especially after having a baby, it is so easy to fall into that rut of "oh, we're too tired to go out or we're too tired to do anything.". This can be dooming to the best of relationships. It's very easy to lose that affection and when I say affection I mean the most simplest forms, like holding hands or cuddling. In order to keep that flame burning, you need to get out there and be together, cultivate your relationship, without the baby! I know it's hard. I hate leaving him in the daycare at the gym sometimes even though I'm right upstairs working out. The truth is though, what good are the two of you to him if you're not really good with each other.When you spend time together, you reignite who you were before the baby. It's really easy to forget that sometimes. I feel like a lot of people give up on their marriages because they don't understand that it is hard, it isn't always a walk in the park. It's something that has to be worked on and I believe you become even stronger when you hit those rock bottom points and rise above. Enough of my philosophy though. Hubby and I decided that we need to get out more often and spend more time together so we got on the phone and began asking other couples if they wanted to join in. So often, we back out on our plans because it's just the two of us and like I said before, we are tired, so I feel like getting a few other couples to come out with you provides a little motivation to wake up, get dressed, get out and have a good time! We ended up going out with my husband's friend and his wife to a great byob that we love where we had reservations might I add. But for some reason because we showed up with 4 instead of six our reservation became null and void and there we were waiting. Watching people that had arrived 15 minutes after us get seated. This, I definitely did not understand. That makes no sense to me. Ok so you set the table up for 6 and 4 show up. Wouldn't it make more sense to remove two plates instead of seating a whole bunch of other people before the customer with the reservation? It makes sense to me! We were seated about a half hour later  at the hottest table in the house and when I say hot I don't mean the most fantastic table. I was literally sweating. It was official....I was being cooked. Now my eyes are closing. "STOP! it's your big night out!", I'm thinking to myself. "I'm supposed to be partying right now!". The aging body is a mind boggling thing. I'm not old but I just can't believe the difference in my motivation to go out from my 20's to my 30's. It's almost pathetic! It's not just me either. My husband's friend was telling tales of going to bed at 9:00 at night he's so tired. "uh huh, I feel that.", I think to myself. Why does going out have to be like climbing a mountain in you 30's? Sure it's exhilarating to know you're climbing, (parallel that to getting ready for your big night out.) . Then you get to the top, what a rush, (parallel that to getting to the restaurant and cracking open the bottle of wine). Then the final stage, pure exhaustion (parallel that to MANY glasses of wine, an extremely hot room, think hot yoga, and my eyes struggling to remain open). I can't understand it. Only two years earlier, I had the strength to go to a bar afterwards or maybe have some people over for a nightcap. All I can think about though is going to sleep! Then the ipod goes on in the car. I suddenly wake up and now... to everyone's surprise (maybe even dismay),I have become a professional singer. Belting out tunes like  people have paid to come and see me. I think at this point my husband knows that I am in my happy place. Songs from my high school days fill the car and I sing along and reminisce. It's been a good night. As I continue to belt out these songs I'm doing the math in my head. "OMG! How is it that I've been out of high school this long.". Ugggh, time flies way too quickly and these songs remind me of a time when I had so much energy I had to tell myself in my head to calm it down a notch. Everyone is feeling pretty tired at this point. I can't help but hope that this is a minor glitch in my life where energy is so low because my parents and their friends party until the cows com home when they're together. There has to be hope right? I always have high hopes that my nights will turn out as wild and fun as they used to be. I'm always hoping that other people will help provide that extra strength to stay out because there's strength in numbers right?

Daily Dose of Irritation

Does anybody else find hovering shoppers irritating? Or is it just me? I rarely shop and when I do, I'm usually shopping with a mission. I like to find what I'm looking for and hightail it out of there because I just have too many things to do in one day anyway. I've never been a Marshall's type of gal. I HATE rack shopping. The Marshall's in my area has recently done a miraculous turn around in the organizational department as per my visit for exercise equipment the other day, so I decided to give it another go (especially since the weighted pair of punching gloves I purchased wasn't actually a pair. To top off this shopping adventure, my son Nicholas fell asleep in the car on the way there and did not choose to continue in his restful state when I put him in his stroller. Instead I was shopping with baby plastic man. My child was contorting himself into some pretty interesting positions to signal his growing irritation from being cooped up in his jogger. At first I leaped in front of him and began a quick game of peek-a boo to try to ease his dissatisfaction. Now I'm talking in baby jibber jabber to try to make him laugh, "wassa wuzza wooloo,,,, zizzer zaz!". "weahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!". Oh no, he wasn't having it. So I end up taking him out of the stroller and holding his hand as I maneuvered through the store, pushing an empty stroller as well. Things worked out pretty well for a while. I'm fingering through the rack of jeans trying to find my size, when out of no where, I can see a girl becoming increasingly annoyed that I'm there. I feel like saying "What? You have a problem? I'm here first ! Wait your turn!". Or maybe I should say..."yessss? Is there something I can help you with? Would you like a ride in my son's stroller or something? Why the hell are you on top of me, I'm already having a stressful day!". Well, you know I'm not going to say anything but I'm agitated right now and obviously so is she. The only thing is she really should wait her turn. I'm here first! She continues to hover and then I finally move out of her way, to which she offers a "sorry." Completely nasty and unheartfelt might I add. And there she is! She has taken my spot and is doing exactly what I was doing! Is there a reason why she had more of a right to be there fingering through the jeans that I did? Is she the  queen of Marshall's and I just don't know it? Should I have thrown hangers and price tags at her to welcome her into her obvious kingdom in the jeans section of Marshall's? A girl like this is exactly what makes me want to get out of Staten Island!  I'm beginning to think that every one's notion in the media of what it is like to live here and what the people are like....could be dead on! I just don't get how a place can breed so many people who think they are better and don't have a problem being nasty on a daily basis!Look, I can't speak for everybody, there are tons of nice people here but there are  also a lot of people who are just miserable. It's like people look at you crazy if you smile. I did an experiment while jogging in the park for a while. I began just smiling and saying good morning to the people that I passed on a daily basis. Maybe two people smiled back and would respond daily. You see they have something called social skills that I'm noticing so many people don't have. Maybe they're insecure, who knows. You wouldn't believe some of the glances people exchanged with me by my saying good morning. You would have thought that I was jogging through the park dressed as a monkey with lipstick throwing bananas at people singing LMFAO's I'm Sexy and I know it. O-O-O-e-e-e---AHHHHH! Ridiculous (both my example and their behavior). Don't people know the phrase "you catch more bees with honey than vinegar"? Apparently not I guess. I'm telling you, if you go anywhere else, it's just customary for people to just look at you and smile. We're people for god sake. I mean look, not everyone is cut from the same cloth. You can easily tell many times what "stranger" not to talk to but it wasn't like I was wandering the park in a nightgown like a crazy person. I was a clean, attractive, happy jogger. Oh well. My bad. Well back to the Marshall's story. That trip ended with my son wheeling the stroller filled with my finds (including jeans......Thank you your majesty for at least letting me find a pair) while I held him in super baby position ( because that's the only way he would not flip out) while people looked at me like a bad mom for shopping in this fashion. Carpe Diem! Yes I did indeed seize the day at Marshall's today! A full stressful half hour out with my little man. Oh and don't forget about Queen Marshall's. She seized the day as well..... by stealing my spot at the jeans rack because she's somehow more important than the other shoppers at the store (grrrrrr) and by taking time to get on my nerves today!!! Doesn't it take the same amount of energy for people to be kind than it does to be rude and miserable???

A New Kind of Alarm Clock

When I talk to most young mothers, one of the conversations that will never be put to sleep is on the very topic itself......that's right....sleep....or lack there of it. I've been one of the lucky ones to have given birth to a child that sleeps through the night. I remember when I was a child waking up when I was sick and my mother gently rocking me back to sleep. I remember the comfort of her arms. My son doesn't even wake up when he's sick. He just sleeps it off. So yes, I really have been lucky. While my girlfriends spun tales of their little ones' late night tantrums and refusal to return to sleep or even go to sleep, or 5 AM wake ups, while my little angel was sleeping until 8:45 sometimes, me and my husband snored away. My pediatrician even commented on my apparent lack of dark circles and puffy eye syndrome by coyly stating "You don't look that tired to be a new mom.". "Why thank you! I'm not tired doc. Me and my husband get LOTS of sleep!". What you don't realize though is that eventually you do become tired. Your sweet darling grows and his or her little personality develops and that my friends could very well be when the tiredness sets in. For example, for the past few days my son has been waking up at 6:30 AM. This is a big change from his typical 8AM or 8:45 AM wake up. I find myself bewildered when I hear his cry or newly developed fake, tearless tantrum call. I'm exhausted. Limp. Lifeless. I lay there thinking "Is this real, maybe if I lay down for a little while longer he'll fall asleep again like he used to......ooooooh why did I stay up until 1 AM folding laundry and cleaning. Trying so hard to get ahead of myself only to be destined to be behind now that he woke up before me!". The tearless tantrum turns into one of his new all out protests (my son and his precious Bear being the sole protesters, picketing around his crib to be fetched). I drag myself out of bed and flip on my electric toothbrush and open his door, flip the light switch and reassure him that I'll be there in a jiff. He doesn't like this. The dissatisfaction becomes increasingly clear and I begin stressing. I'm really trying to hold it together here. "OK Reese, he's just a baby, you're a good mom......you have the right to brush your teeth and wash your face before you pick him up.". Let's face it, if I don't do it now, I'll be destined to roam the house in my pajamas all day or feel bad for sneaking away and throwing my gym clothes on because he might cry and my heart shatters to pieces when this happens. I resolve to take a deep breath and try my best to let the stress go. The morning continues in a rocky type fashion ..."And on this side of the ring is Nicholas weighing in at 23 lbs battling his opponent Mommy, weighing in a 114lbs because she doesn't have time to eat and is so busy cleaning up EVERYTHING! Let the battle begin!". Let's see, so far we've had a fight to get out of the crib (But I thought he wanted to get up?) A fight to change his diaper (But you're dirty! Aren't you uncomfortable peanut?) A fight during breakfast because the food's not coming fast enough and god forbid I'm not standing in front of him at all times, Company in the bathroom (I haven't used the bathroom alone in I don't know how long). Let's not forget laundry throwing (newly folded laundry) and business card throwing as well. Yes, my personal business cards looked more like a ticker tape parade celebration for the baby that conquered his mother in every way today. I finally got out of the house though. The outside world can be exhilarating when you've been cooped up being sick yourself with a sick baby in the house. It can be like living in a log cabin in the woods, not knowing what is going on in the outside world. As I drove down the street today I thought to myself " wow, when is the last time you actually drove down this boulevard? Could it have been Christmas time?". I hit the jackpot with an exercise equipment sale that I greatly appreciated because i need to create variety for my clients. I however, did not hit the jackpot with escaping the store as the mom with the baby flipping out. Oh well, you win some you lose some and today I think I'm losing the battle with my sweet boy but hey, tomorrow is another day to turn it all around as I walk past a mirror in the store and observe the fact that I should have remembered to look in the mirror before I left, hence my hair wouldn't have been in the messiest ponytail in the world! I think to myself, "Take a deep breath Reese, RELAX, he's only a baby once, you're only young once, treasure these moments even the hard ones, these times are precious, he'll be better off in the end. I know my sweet baby will be. So I carry my baby into the house and set his angelic little face and sleepy body into the crib and ponder new career ideas once again. Ones that allow the flexibility for me to continue this tough and rewarding job of being a mommy but also one where I can restore a sense of myself without feeling guilty. I'll be working on that ; ) . After all, it's never too late to become what you might have been~ Right?