Week 3

Week 3a

week3b

week3c

week3d

week3h

week3e

week3f

week3g

I learn a lot from you. I learn more from you than you do from me, especially when it comes to self care. On my Facebook page I get a lot of feedback on taking care of myself, something I struggle to do. The reason I decided to do daily exercise is twofold. One, it’s to take care of myself physically. Two, it’s to do something just for myself. It might be one reason I’ve had mixed results with stay at home yoga. The boys want to do it with me and, as much as I love them, I need some time alone.

The Mister came home on Friday night after a month of traveling (he came home on the weekends). We knew he had to leave again on Monday, but at the last minute we learned he had to leave Sunday. I decided to devote Saturday and Sunday to mental self care instead of physical. Instead of walking, we joined him in helping his mom move everything into her house after a top-to-bottom remodel. My arms and back were tight on Sunday, so I consider that a workout! On Sunday, right after the Mister left, I took the boys to San Diego to meet someone I met online 8 years ago in a due date forum for February babies! Can you believe I did it? I can’t. I admit I forced myself, but it was worth it because (1) ballsy for me! and (2) the boys love The Natural History Museum. I was so nervous that I forgot to take pictures of my friend and I together. Oh well. One of these days I’ll get the hang of this socializing thing.

It took us almost 3 hours to get home from San Diego (traffic) but it was worth it. The drive was beautiful and peaceful. Nico sang songs (and asked me 30238 times if we were there yet) and Mikey finished Nest of Serpents. We were just pulling into town when the sun went down. So pretty. Mikey took the last picture, the one of the sunset. You can see the squished bugs on our windshield.

Happy, Happy

Shake

When your husband is traveling for most of the month (only one week left to go!) and your boys are in several activities, sometimes it’s best to admit you’re overwhelmed.

The boys have swim practice M-F for two hours in the early morning. I’m thankful because we avoid the heat–though I still had to take Nico to the urgent care on Tuesday for dehydration–but it does take sleeping in over summer vacation out of the equation. To top it off, the boys both had choir, piano, and clarinet in the evenings. Last week I cancelled all music activities until September. Yesterday, we skipped swim.

Nothing terrible happened when I admitted I was struggling.

No one was upset with me for cancelling activities. I don’t mean the boys. I mean the instructors.

Sometimes it really is the little things, like cancelling an activity or finding a breakfast both boys love. I don’t know how I came up with this chocolate shake/smoothie, but it’s the one thing the boys will both eat. This is key when you have early morning swim practice. I mix two cups of dark chocolate almond milk (Silk brand), two frozen bananas, 1-2 tablespoons of unsweetened cocoa powder, and two-three tablespoons of natural unsweetened peanut butter. They’ve been having it daily for a while now, which is such a blessing. Usually I can get them to eat something, oatmeal, for example, for a couple of days before they’d rather starve than eat breakfast.

Little things. Important. Off to swim practice.

Have a great weekend!

Week 2

Week 2

Week 2, b

Week 2, c

Week 2, d

Week 2, e

Week 2, f

Week 2, g

There were a few late nights where I really didn’t want to do yoga in my cramped family room on stinky carpet while Buddy sniffed at me and Mikey and Nico argued about who touched whose piece of lint. On those days, I went on walks. Peaceful, solitary walks. I suddenly fell in love with walking again, so this week I didn’t do any yoga. I think yoga needs to be an early morning activity for me to do it with any sort of regularity. I’m thinking of setting up a little yoga area in my room. This way I can do my yoga first thing in the morning, on hardwood floors, without man or beast driving me nuts.

A few of the days I walked were thick like pea soup. So, so muggy! Horrible. Yuck. I can handle triple digit weather, but humidity is something else. People talk about the fiery depths of hell and how hot it is, but I suspect it’s really central Florida in August. Hell is your shirt sticking to your back.

Listening To: PITBULL featuring T-Pain & Sean Paul

I was in the mood for Latin music this week, so I played Shake Señora by Pitbull. It was my fastest walk this year.

Week 1

Palm tree

I did it! I didn’t do yoga every day, but I exercised every day, and that makes me feel much better about myself. On the days I did yoga, I did it with the boys while the Mister was out of town. It was a lot of fun. Nico provided comic relief, as expected. At one point the woman in the app instructed us to move into a comfortable pose. She meant a lotus position.

How-To-Use-Ujjayi-Breath-In-Lotus-Pose

I turned around and found Nico had slipped into the Costanza.

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Mikey, who at this point was well on his way to earning a PhD in Yoga Perfect Form, just gaped at him with the slack-jawed face of someone who had stumbled upon a baby animal not-quite weird enough to be cute. I did the same, though I managed to stutter a proper noun and three pronouns.

“Nico…you…it…you…”

“What,” he said, looking at us like we were the silly ones sitting there with our legs twisted like pretzels. “She said to get into a comfortable pose. I’m comfortable.”

Nico’s favorite poses were the Costanza and corpse. Everything else he barely managed without collapsing into a pile of giggles or complaining that something, somewhere hurt. It was while Mikey and I were trembling in our side plank poses that Nico, deep into a Costanza, positioned the pillow behind his head into a more comfortable position.

“Yoga is easy,” he declared, as Mikey and I collapsed side-by-side on the ground, gasping.

Mikey rolled his sweaty head in Nico’s direction. “Says the guy who isn’t doing anything!”

“I’m doing something!” Nico had the nerve to look offended as he readjusted his pillow. “I’m doing yoga, Mikey.”

On the days that I couldn’t stand to be in the room with the boys one more second, I put on my sneakers and went on a walk. This proved to be a good alternative. The boys got a break from their annoyed mom, and I didn’t put them out with the recycling. Win-win.

All About That Bass

This video went viral. Maybe most of you have seen it? They’re calling it a body positive song. I’ve included the lyrics below the video which, I admit, is as cute as the song. Except.

Because you know I’m all about that bass,
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass

Yeah it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no size two
But I can shake it, shake it like I’m supposed to do
‘Cause I got that boom boom that all the boys chase
All the right junk in all the right places
I see the magazines working that Photoshop
We know that shit ain’t real
Come on now, make it stop
If you got beauty beauty just raise ‘em up
‘Cause every inch of you is perfect
From the bottom to the top
Yeah, my momma she told me don’t worry about your size
She says, boys they like a little more booty to hold at night
You know I won’t be no stick-figure, silicone Barbie doll,
So, if that’s what’s you’re into
Then go ahead and move along

Because you know I’m all about that bass,
‘Bout that bass , no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass

I’m bringing booty back
Go ahead and tell them skinny bitches that
Nah, I’m just playing I know you think you’re fat,
But I’m here to tell you that,
Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top
Yeah, my momma she told me don’t worry about your size
She says, boys they like a little more booty to hold at night
You know I won’t be no stick-figure, silicone Barbie doll,

So, if that’s what’s you’re into
Then go ahead and move along

Because you know I’m all about that bass,
‘Bout that bass ’bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass

Because you know I’m all about that bass,
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass

Because you know I’m all about that bass,
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass, no treble
I’m all ’bout that bass, ’bout that bass

As someone who is overweight and sees teen girls thrilling at the onset of the flu because that means they’ll lose at least 2 pounds (wish I was kidding), I’m glad there is a catchy song that says it’s OK to have a curvy figure. Really, I am. I’m not trying to be a politically correct/angry/judgmental person who quibbles over every last thing. I think there needs to be more body-positive songs and movies and books and snapchats and twitters and instagrams and whatever else the hell there is going on now. I just wish it wasn’t at the expense of someone else.

I have two issues with the lyrics.

I got all the boom-boom that all the boys chase.

Yeah, my momma she told me don’t worry about your size
She says, boys they like a little more booty to hold at night

There are studies that show the average male prefers a woman around size UK 14, which around size 10 in the US. Think Christina Hendricks (here without photoshop). By the way, plenty of guys have read that study and said, “Um, no.” That study had a very small sample size, and every study that repeated it had similarly small sample sizes. I’m not saying it’s not true, I’m just saying it’s not true of all guys. Plenty of guys prefer slender women, as they should since we’re not all drones with the same tastes in romantic partners. I know women who are naturally very thin with little to no “booty.” I remember them being miserable in middle school and junior high because they felt they looked like boys/had no boobs/stuffed their bras, etc. etc. The boys teased them for being “boards” the same way they teased my for being fat. I doubt this song would help skinny girls build body confidence.

I’m bringing booty back
Go ahead and tell them skinny bitches that
Nah, I’m just playing I know you think you’re fat,
But I’m here to tell you that,
Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top

OK, hold on. Now we’re calling girls skinny bitches, but we’re only playing because we know they think they’re fat. What? That makes…huh? No. First, you can’t call someone a skinny bitch and then laugh it off. That’s not a joke; it’s sarcasm. Second, I’m not sure every skinny woman out there thinks they’re fat. Maybe they say that because women find it impossible to say anything positive about their body. Ever. (Eye-opening video) The second she included that “skinny bitch” line she sacrificed the song’s potential to be truly about body confidence.

I also have issues with the video.

1. They say it’s not about body shaming thin people, but that model looks like the center of the joke. Is she the “stick-figure, silicone Barbie doll” mentioned in the song? You know, the skinny bitch (just playing!) who also thinks she’s fat. Every inch of her is perfect from the bottom to the top according to the song, but she sure is getting knocked about by the “real” women in the video. She’s also made to look superficial, vapid, judgmental, and mean.

Side note: The term “real” woman makes me want to scream. If you have a vagina or identify as a woman, you are a “real” woman. [Drops the mic]

2. Meghan Trainor (the singer) is wearing an incredible amount of makeup, has a soft focus lens on her, and is shot from slightly above to minimize her double chin. So much for body confidence. Here she is from another angle.

My last, and most important comment on the video.

Let’s talk about Sione Maraschino and what a ridiculous scene stealer he is. Get outta here with your Maraschino Step.

Hi! I’m Jules.

I used to be an attorney, but it made me grumpy. Now I write about life, sweet and savory, as a wife and mother to two small boys. My knowledge of dinosaurs knows no bounds.

You can read more, including the meaning behind the name Pancakes and French Fries here. And, yes, I really am phenomenally indecisive.