Shred Days 14-16: Halfway There!

Warning: this post will likely get a little goopy, so if you're not in the mood for sweet sentiments, keep it moving.

If it weren't for Bryan, I would have gone two days straight without working out. I know that doesn't sound like the end of the world, but staying on track with this is very important to me and losing momentum feels dangerous.

Day 14 went okay (Level 2 is still waaay hard) but the next day I just couldn't find the motivation. There was no injury or scheduling problem. It was, as my Mom would have put it, "a case of the Sorries." A BIG case. My inner brat took over, and I got tired of having something else to do everyday.

Yesterday was Day 16, and it was dangerously close to becoming my first second day skip. I have a friend in the hospital who wasn't doing well (he's improved some since then) and when bad things happen, I often give in to the Sorries. While I was walking around rationalizing a second consecutive off-day, Bryan said, "You're my hero." Well, what are you going to do after that? So, I laced up my shoes and got to it.

The boys came downstairs in the middle of my workout, and Bryan made a pretty convincing show of admiring my muscles. That was very sweet and helped me remember why I'm doing this. Then, Jackson did some clapping and stretched out across my body during crunches and "helped" me keep my abs tight. That was just funny and distracting, and also helped a lot. When I was done, Bryan did the workout so I had someone to be tired with.

I want to sincerely thank my boys for their support, in this, and everything else I do. You guys rock!

30-Day Shred - Days 6 & 7

After Day Five's equipment failure, I substituted Bryan's ankle weights for my poor little dead handweights on Day Six.They were too big to wear on my wrists, so I tried holding them. Yikes. I wasted no time getting to Sports Authority to get these:

MUCH better.

Hallelujah, I'm not sore anymore! I'm starting to rethink my timing, though. Working out during Jackson's morning nap leaves me pretty shot the rest of the day. The one time I Shredded in the evening, I found it harder to get motivated, but I felt much much better during the day. Having a night's sleep between Shredding and daily activities REALLY helps. Especially when this is your daily activity:

I still haven't weighed in several days. I'm a little chicken, because I gain muscle fairly easily. That's a great ability - and I hope it continues for a few more years - but it's always played with my head when I'm trying to get in shape. I get so wrapped up in wanting that little number on the scale to go down. So, I'll give it a few more days.

Lately I find myself focused on the impending "Day 11." My original intention was to do each of the three levels for 10 days. If I do that, Thursday is the day to begin Level 2. I'm more than a little afraid to switch levels, but it's probably the best way to get continued results. It also might help keep the experience fresh.

Thanks again for the encouragement! Keep it coming! Some of you have expressed interest in doing this workout, so here's a great tip: If your cable or satellite service comes with an "On Demand" feature, you might have Fit TV. Fit TV has Level 1 available for FREE. Believe me, Level 1 isn't for wimps, and it will give you a chance to try it out before whipping out the old credit card!

30 Day Shred - Day 5

Day 5 went well, except for a minor equipment failure.

It happened shortly after the first 6-minute circuit. The entire human part of our family was in the basement (the two furbabies were upstairs). Bryan stepped outside to make a phone call while little Jackson supervised from his warm spot inside the sliding door. I finished the first strength segment with a roar, and Bryan peeked in to make sure everything was okay. Here's what he witnessed after I dropped the handweights:

So, THAT's what's inside my handweights.

I didn't even notice all the little ball bearings on the floor since I was on to the next segment. Jillian has a strict "no rest" policy if you want results from a 20-minute workout. Alas, the weights had served valiantly for 15 years, so it was their time. Perhaps it was also a divine message for me to put on my big girl panties and use something heavier than three-pounders.

*Hee hee.* I briefly considered telling you it happened mid-bicep curl when I hulked out and snapped it with my bare hand. RAHH! You wouldn't like me when I'm angry...

One major change today was much less soreness. I also learned that I have much more energy in the morning. Since the radiator repair man was here during Jackson's morning nap, I worked out in the late afternoon and had to push harder to get through the evening blahs.

By the way, my sweet husband is Shredding as well for moral support. What a stud! I'd also like to thank everyone who has commented here on this project. You have no idea how uplifting your kind words have been. Extra special thanks to my sweet sweet stepmom, Dorothy, over at Counting My Blessings for sending your posse my way. Girl power!

I haven't weighed in a couple of days, but my jeans are getting loose. Which is FREAKING FANTASTIC.

Of course, here's your baby photo of the day. We call this hairstyle the curlyhawk:

If that's not worth some baby weight, I don't know what is!!

30 Day Shred - Day 4

So, you know Jillian Michaels, the scary trainer lady on The Biggest Loser? Well, I'm doing this
in an effort to lose some leftover baby weight, and tone up the muscles that surely must still be under there somewhere.

My Aunt: What's a 30-Day Shred? I think I need it.

Me: It's just a workout, Aunt Pat, but it's beating me like it caught me stealing.

It's an intense twenty-minute workout to get maximum results by combining cardio, strength and ab workouts. The term "Shred" refers to the desired physical result of the workout...as in getting shredded/ripped/cut. Right now it feels more like getting shredded in the taco lettuce sense of the word.

I'm usually content with slow and steady progress. However, my precious baby boy is almost 14-months old, and that approach has left me antsy. Also, the twenty-minute duration should allow me to change clothes, workout, shower and dress during Jackson's morning nap.I'm documenting my journey here because I'm in desperate need of support and accountability. (How very "Julie and Julia" of me, I know.)

I realize a "before" picture of my squishy, white, childbirth-ravaged body would make this more interesting for you. Frankly, I don't have the guts to TAKE one of those photos, much less offer it up for you, Internet. But, since I owe you something in exchange for your supportive comments (hint hint) here's an adorable picture of my baby:

Sure, most folks chronicle these things from Day 1, to capture all the cock-eyed optimism with which they approached their challenge. Trust me, y'all didn't miss anything. Prior to this, I was just doing 30 minutes of Wii Fit every other day. I knew this was gonna hurt like hell. Quick recap:

Day 1 - Holy Crap.

Day 2 - My self hurts.

Day 3 - Still sore and very tired.

I haven't done today's workout, so you're all caught up. This morning I was pleasantly surprised to find myself less sore, and my endurance has improved a LOT in such a short time. So, let's do this thing!

Jackson's Birth Story

Eventually, I may be able to post something outside the smoochable baby arena. Since that won't happen soon, here's a classic "Mommy-blog" post and tell you how Jackson came to join us in the outside world.

Sunday, 1/25, 3 a.m. - I had a contraction that woke me up.

Sunday, 1/25, 3:10 a.m. - I had another contraction that woke me up.

Sunday, 1/25, 3:20 a.m. - You get the picture.

At this point, Bryan and I were pretty excited. I'd only had contractions once or twice per day, so it seemed like we would be heading to the hospital soon.

HOWEVER, I continued to have contractions at about 10 minutes apart all day Sunday. Then all night Sunday. And all day Monday, and all night Monday. Mmmm-hmmm. This means I slept in 10-minute bursts for two days. Let's just say I began this Mommying thing a little behind the eight ball, sleep-wise.

Tuesday, 1/27, 8:00 a.m. - Bryan and I arrived at my last scheduled O.B. appointment with bags packed. Dr. Trainor's voice was like music when she said, "Go to the hospital - you're going to have this baby today." If I'd felt less like death, I would have kissed her. On the mouth.

Tuesday, 1/27, 9:00 a.m. - We checked into the hospital. Right away I began to execute my 1-step birth plan (1. Ask for epidural ASAP.) The people who administer these are called CRNAs - which stands for Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist. I called her the NNw/NN, or the "Nice Nurse with the Nice Needle." She came in and set up to give me blessed relief.

Nice Nurse w/Nice Needle - "You're back is really tight."

Me - "That's what my chiropractor says."

Nice Nurse Nw/Nice Needle - "What?! You go to a chiropractor? I have to warn you - you may have so much scar tissue we won't be able to do this. How often do you see him?"

Me - "On the same schedule as my O.B. appointments. So this month, I've been seeing her once a week."

Mean Nw/NN - "That's terrible! No one should EVER go to a chiropractor that often. This may not even work."

Me - "Mmmkay. Well, as I SAID, I went on the same schedule as my O.B. appointments, so for seven months, it was only once a month. Only this month has it been weekly."

MNw/NN - "Oh."

At this point we were getting a good deal of attitude from Mean Nurse w/Nice Needle. Then, the epidural wasn't taking effect on the left 1/3 of my body. Which was A PROBLEM. MNw/NN kept insisting we look at it as 2/3 effective. It became a bigger problem when another nurse inserted the catheter and I REALLY felt it. The other nurse noticed that I was still feeling every contraction. (Umm, yeah. I heard them coming around the corner like they were wearing tap shoes.) After lots of back and forth, they placed the epidural again. This time, I finally wasn't feeling the contractions and felt better than I had in a month.

Since I never dilated past 5 centimeters the doctor decided to do a c-section.

Gradually, Mean Nw/NN turned back into Nice Nw/NN. She said cheerfully, "I'm glad we repositioned the needle. It can be really tricky cutting through those hot spots." Silly nurse. She was under the impression that I was going to allow someone to cut on a part of my body that still had feeling. I had almost kicked the catheter lady in the teeth - this wouldn't be a good idea on either side of the scalpel.

So, they cranked up the epidural and rolled me into the operating room. They gave Bryan a giant pair of napkin footy pajamas and let him join us a few minutes later. Surgery went well - the drape kept me from seeing anything gruesome, and before you know it...

Tuesday, 1/27 6:28 p.m. - I heard the most beautiful cry. A few minutes later, I was handed the most beautiful baby.

THE END. AND THE BEGINNING.

Little Dude

Boy, I'm slacking on this post writing thing!

For anyone I've failed to update, Jackson was born on Tuesday, January 27. Thank you for all the prayers and well wishes. He was 8 lbs., 3 oz. and did indeed have to be delivered by c-section. He was one month old yesterday, and boy is he a cutie. Please prepare yourself for cuteness overload - here he is at 3 days old:

My mother made this blanket for a neighbor's baby 25 years ago;

she kindly saved it and gave it to us for Jackson when I was home at Thanksgiving.

For anyone I've neglected to update, please forgive me. I've been almost 24-7 occupied with being this huggable little guy's Mommy. If you're still checking my blog, thank you!! I'll post more pictures soon - pinky swear.

Giving Thanks

First things first: I got kinda bored with my blogger template and grabbed another one. I'm not that into pink, but this one seemed cool. Plus, I gots no HTML skillz so I just had to pick one.

I got started on this thankful list over here at Lori's place and decided to add some more here. Perhaps this will become a yearly MRF feature. (Since we're actually a couple months away from my first blogiversary, I feel comfortable speaking all long-term like that.) So, here are a few things for which I'm thankful:

• My little bun in the oven
  
• The sweet man I married who tries not to put his beer near me so I don't get so sad
  
• My Dad's new wife who makes him so happy
  
• My brothers and their families who I don't get to see often enough
  
• Far away friends I don't get to see often enough, but who still talk to me anyway
  
• Blogland friends
  
• Friends who invite you over for a super fabulous Halloween party of which you keep forgetting to post pictures (thanks Jessica and Marc!)
  
• A mysterious huge can of chili beans (more on that in the upcoming belated Halloween photo post)
  
• Blog readers and commenters... especially commenters ;)
  
• Nutella (If you've never bought a jar of this, it's the yummy stuff in the middle of these and yes, you can buy a whole jar of it! I know, right?)
  
• Sparkling grape juice you can pour in a wine glass as a pregnancy "mocktail"
  
• Cherry popovers
  
• The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade
  
• The dogshow afterward with the best-of-breeds who never seem quite as great as my dog
  
• Clean water, a roof over my head, food, and all the other stuff we're practically swimming in that many folks in the world don't have
  
• My eyesight, which came a loooong way to get to perfect thanks to Dr. Lombardo's mad LASIK skillz
  
• Friends who invite you over for Thanksgiving and cook so you don't have to (thanks Al and Monique!)

Your turn. Share your list, postpone your diet, and have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

A New Development

Turns out the barefoot part is entirely optional.

Yes, the line is fairly faint, but a second test confirmed that Bryan and I are expecting our first!

Now you know why I haven't written in a while. I've had almost nothing on my mind besides this, and key family members had to be told before they ran into it on a blog or something. Here's the lowdown: we weren't trying (in the clinical, taking-temperatures-and-charting-stuff sense) we had just stopped preventing. We decided to give nature a year before we started the taking-temperatures-and-charting-stuff routine. I got pregnant in a month. No joke. Bryan's feeling more than a little proud of that.

My first doctor's appointment is Nov. 30th, so I'm waiting. The most rudimentary way to find a due date yields July 4th, but we may know more after visiting the doctor. At this point I feel great, get VERY sleepy at about 9:30, and love love love me some fruit. Mangoes and cantaloupes are heavenly.

I promise to try to write about things other than pregnancy from time to time. I said promise. But I also said try.

Un Signo Di Dio

I've never had a Virgin Mary in the Glass experience or seen Jesus in my toast. However, today I looked down at the cord hanging from my guitar pickup and saw this:

I know, right? A freaking treble clef!

(My lips to Gods ears: I didn't contrive this in any way. I just saw it, lay down the guitar and grabbed the camera.)

If you didn't have music lessons as a kid, here's something for comparison:

It's no Shroud of Turin, but I don't think you can get a closer re-creation with a single strand of anything.

I'd be shunning my duties as a snake oil peddler if I didn't assign some heartfelt personal significance to this, so here goes:

I have a crazy goal to sing an original song in front of people who aren't kin to me. I find this tremendously scary, but in a moment of stupidity I confessed to my husband that I'd like to do it at an upcoming open mic night at Barley Island Brewing Company. Have I mentioned my husband doesn't let things go?

1. A reason this is scary: it's musician appreciation night at Barley Island's open mic. There will be lots of songwriters there. Yikes.
   
   
2. Another reason this is scary: I've not yet written a song I deem good enough to sing in front of non-relatives. It's four days from now. This is the only day I have off work between now and Sunday.

How can you help? Glad you asked: If you're a local MRF reader, come to Barley Island Sunday night around 6:30 or so and clap a lot. A diverse group of local acts comes out to this, so chances are good you'll hear something you like. Plus, their tasty Flat Top Wheat Ale does a nice job of taking the edge off stuff you don't like.

You non-locals (shout out to Wisconsin, California, and Texas) do what you do best and keep commenting here. You totally put the locals to shame.

Sigh. If my supernatural musical phenomenon means anything, it's time to stop procrastinating and write a song. Holy crap, I hope I can do this.

Chillin'

Today is my day off. Boy, it was time for a day off. I'll put it this way: I never have an urge to watch "The View" anymore. When I wanna listen to a bunch of chicks bitching at each other, I just go to work. I mean, seriously.

So, today has been pure chill time. It's almost 3:30, and I'm still in my pj's watching Flight of the Conchords clips on you tube. I caught a chick flick and ate a couple of cinnamon rolls. I didn't have to listen to any fighting. It was pure bliss.

Now if I could only figure out a way to keep my coworkers from disturbing my peace. I'm thinking paintball guns...

Profile Change

Well, I came by to change the age on my profile, since as of last week I'm a "32-year-old southerner turned midwesterner." Yes, yes, I had a birthday. And I did all the required introspection and ate a lot of chocolate. (Kudos to Bryan for creating the "Melting Pot at Home" experience. See, I normally like to go to the real restaurant, but this was a creative and VERY well executed fondue experience where I got to wear my PJs. He's a good boy.)

Let's get down to business: Lately I've struggled with what's "okay" to write about here. I started MRF thinking of it as a good journaling incentive. Journaling is a great way for me to dump everything out of my brain. This is important, because if things are allowed to stay up there, I will overanalyze them. Plus, it's dark and moldy and nothing deserves to stay locked up there forever.

I have an impressive stack of beautiful real-world journals. Every unmarked, gilded-edged page is a testament to how bad I am at actually using them. When I'm at the bookstore the thought of the Zen I will experience writing in THIS journal is exhilirating. THIS one will be different. But the never-writing-in-them part makes it kind of a waste. So, I skipped the journal 12-step program and just quit cold turkey. I figure, Blogger is free, and there's some accountability involved since one of you nice folks might pop over to see if there's a post.

HOWEVER, I've started to worry about when/if someone from church will find MRF, or if a coworker will find it. Which has really stunted my writing because lately there are things going on at both church and work I've wanted to write about. And, if the wrong person happened upon my little web island, an honest post could hurt someone. If dooce has taught us anything, it's that writing about your job is dangerous. Sigh. Blog ethics suck.

I know some of you blog about personal things. What are your boundaries? At some point I decided to post my picture, but now I'm not sure that's the best idea. Maybe I should use a cookie instead.

Am I overreacting? I mean, what are the chances a person from real life that I haven't actually sent a link would find MRF? Probably slim to none. Any thoughts on this?

Pie Crust and Hydrangea Bushes

I've written a few things about my Mom who passed away. I took a notion to write her a letter. You might find this boring, since it's about stuff my Mom would be interested in. But, my last site meter report looked like binary code so, what the hell. :)

Mama,

It's July in Indiana, and boy is it beautiful. I don't think you ever went to Indiana, did you? Anyway, summer is the best here. We don't get much oppressive heat like Mississippi. (But folks back home can sure thumb their noses at us come February.) Everyone has their good season, and ours is now. The Queen Anne's lace is overtaking the creek behind the house, and the clover's in bloom.

Oh - I wanted to tell you - I made biscuits today and something weird happened. My mind must have been elsewhere because I dumped the milk in before I'd even cut the shortening into the flour. What a mess! It was the last of the milk, though, so I kept going. I cut the flour into the big gob of goo. It was the strangest feeling dough I've ever touched- more delicate than usual, I think. Believe it or not - they came out fine. Not the best ever, but certainly not bad. I'm glad I didn't give up.

I planted a hydrangea bush out front two years ago. It's the variety called "Endless Summer." It's supposed to bloom on the old growth but so far, mine hasn't. This is its second year, and it only has one tremendous bloom on the front. Oh, and it's pink. Isn't that cool? The one beside the old parsonage back home bloomed white in alkaline soil- mine goes toward pink. I could force it blue, but I find it more fun to just sit back and see what nature gives me. I think you would too.

Bryan and I lead worship at church now. I play my twelve string (the one Daddy's friend in Alabama fixed for me) and lead contemporary music. Bryan runs the projector-- we put scriptures and song lyrics on a screen now. I think you'd like it. We use lots of nature backgrounds, and I imagine you'd appreciate seeing creation-type images during church. It's always good to be reminded that God is everywhere, not just the stuffy little church-box we try to cram him into.

You know, several times a day I see some little ordinary something and wonder what you'd think about it. That's kind of silly though. The longer I think, I become certain I know what you'd think because we talked about everything. During the eye-rolling teenage years I gave you every impression that I couldn't care less about what you thought, but you know what? Now I'm really glad you told me. Because, when I have a problem, I know exactly how you'd solve it. That logic carries me through so many things because you took the time to raise me so thoroughly.

By the way - remember when you used to ball up the extra pieces of pie crust dough and throw them at us when we walked in the back door? The gig is up, lady. I made that recipe for a July 4th picnic, and barely had enough for both pies. You totally MADE extra dough to throw at us.

Thanks.

My Give-A-Damn's Busted

Yeah, yeah. I know that's song title becomes void of wit when you see it written, but who seriously cares? Not me, buddy. Have you ever lost the motivation to do anything you don't HAVE to do? Yeah, me too. I even looked under the couch cushions. Nothing.

I wouldn't say I'm sad or anything. Not really. Just pretty unconcerned and unmotivated. I seriously have done nothing but watch Scrubs re-runs, eat and sleep. Haven't been wasting a lot of energy respecting myself either.

Needless to say, impassioned narratives aren't in MRF's immediate future. Unless, of course, you write one. Tag, Impassioned Commenter. You're it.