The Situation

After a long talk with my best friend in the whole world, I've come to realize there's a lot about myself that I knew, but was never ok with saying them out loud. I shared a few things with her that day, so here it goes:

PEOPLE
I say I don't care what people think of me. If it's someone I don't particularly know, then that's true. If it's someone that drives me past frustration, it's also true. People that I know, have no problem with, but just don't know well, it's not true. I care. A lot. There is one person at work that I'm sure doesn't like me. There is no reason for it. Maybe she feels our personalities don't match or I'm too loud. Either way, she is nice to me and works well with me, but I can just tell that most of it is "professional" and not out of true feelings. I don't know why that bothers me so much. Why do I want some person I deal with every so often at work to like me? I like it when people like me. I just do.

FUNNY
I get my adrenaline rush when people think I'm funny. I want to make people laugh. I always have. I like it when people are having fun and laughing means fun. I want people to be happy and if they are laughing, then at that moment, they can't be sad or stressed. I want to be the funniest person you know.

SWEETS
I like them a lot more than I admit. I can down a whole box of Fudge Rounds in one sitting and not feel gross. I rarely turn down sweets. I make jokes out of it when something sweet is offered to me, but I usually can't get to it fast enough. I want more than one serving, too. It's my weakness. GOT. TO HAVE. IT.

DIET COKE
No secret here. My greatest addiction for years. I feel weird without it. There are times when I feel sick of it, but I still drink it. It's become habit. When I'm cranky, I usually use not having one as an excuse. People buy it and I sound less like Bad Mood Jones.

SHORT
I hate being short. I feel left out.

CUTE
I hate being called cute. A woman likes to be beautiful. My 15 month old gets called beautiful all the time. I'm always "cute." I feel like a puppy. Boo.

SAD
I don't want anyone to be sad. I will usually do anything I can to make people not sad in some way. I sometimes become obsessed with making the other person feel better. See "FUNNY."

FRIENDS
I feel like I don't have enough, but the ones I have are irreplaceable. I sometimes feel like I'm not good enough to my friends.

BABY
There are times that I feel like being a mom keeps me from being able to be as good of a friend since I can't go many places these days. I didn't want having a baby to change my relationship with my friends. They keep me sane. I need them. I feel left out of their lives sometimes and it's my fault.

TALKING ON THE PHONE
I used to love it. Now, I'd rather not. I don't have much to say other than what Ella has been up to and not everyone wants to know that.

HOUSE
I have my moments when I get jealous of other people's homes. I know that is wrong, but we don't have a lot of money and our house is old. I love it, but it's not "expensive-looking" and all my friend's houses do.

JEALOUS
I don't want to be jealous of anyone. I am often. See "HOUSE."

DANCE
I can't dance enough. I love to do it. I wish I could Hip Hop dance. I would feel so freakin' cool if I could.

PIANO
I want to take lessons. I want to own a piano and play for hours everyday. I used to play by ear, but have lost it.

GUITAR
Same with the guitar. It would make me feel a little cooler, too.

FOOD
I love food. I don't like to hear I should eat healthy because all I can think of is salad. I HATE SALAD. I want meat and potatoes!

MYSELF
I try to do everything myself because I don't want to be a burden. I'm running myself into the ground and I won't ask for help. I don't know why.

BODY
My body grosses me out and I don't have energy to work out. I always say "tomorrow." We are set to go to Jamaica next year and I'm dreading it.

ELLA
I feel like Ella should be just as important if not more to most people. Because of this, she is spoiled.

NEWS
I check the news 10 times a day. I fear that another major event like 9/11 will happen. I think about that a lot.

OTHERS
Most of the time I feel like a redneck around other people. I hate dressing up, I am loud and don't like to do "girly" things. I feel like the nasty redneck girl that doesn't mesh well with other girls. There are lots of girls I avoid because I feel so stupid around them. I don't cook, don't have a clean house, don't dress well, have bad skin and currently don't work out. The thought of being a well-dressed domesticated woman who likes a good glass of wine makes me gag. I don't want to be that woman because I'm bored by that woman, but I feel stupid around women who are that. I don't know why.

ADAM
I feel like I let him down often. I hate volleyball because it takes him away from me all the time. He wants me to come to games and practices and get to know the girls and their parents. I never do and really don't want to. He would come see me if the roles were reversed. I feel bad about it, but still can't bring myself to be around annoying parents. I struggle between being supportive and being angry at all things volleyball.

Day whatever: start over?

Schedules haven't lined up. Food has been fast and the most working out I've gotten in these days is dancing with Ella in the living room. I need to start over from scratch on all this.

Spiritually, I feel better than before. We went back to First Baptist for the first time in probably a year this past Sunday. We'd been frequenting other churches in hopes to find the perfect one for us. Turns out FB might be the one. I fought back tears the entire service. It was moving, touching and spoke loud. Gratitude. In all the worry, fear and frustrations I let run my moods, I forget to be grateful for all I have.

This week, Greg, Heather and Maelee have been weighing on my mind a great deal. It catches up with me when I least expect it. Sometimes it's a song that brings all the emotion back. Sometimes it's seeing Greg at work doing his best to work through his suffering. I look at Ella and am grateful. I am also sad for what they don't have. The kisses, the hugs, the belly laughs and the game of peek-a-boo Ella starts up in the middle of dinner. My heart aches for them so much more than I could begin to describe. I don't know that time heals you. How could it? They held their child's lifeless body. You don't get over that. You live your new life the only way you know how. Greg doesn't seem to talk as much about it at work these days. Maybe it's because he's trying to live as normal of a life as he can without stirring up so much emotion at work. Maybe he's tired of ME asking about him, his day, his weekend or whatever may be going on just to make sure he's still not without hope. Heather is traveling a lot. It's good. She's with family and gets to have some distraction from looking at the nursery. I worry about them a lot. I text, email and chat with them probably too much. I make up reasons to ask how their weekend has gone when all I want to do is hug them, pray with them and tell them I'm still sad, too. When you have a child that makes you glow, you ache for those who don't.

I made a slideshow of some of the images from their blog. The 4 hours I worked on it, I sobbed (yes, it took me that long because I couldn't figure out the new software). These images. The music. These are good christian people who want to be parents to Maelee with all their being, but that dream was ripped away. As much as I love our Lord and as much as I trust Him, I still don't understand it.

So, my physical growth (or should I say trimming) has come to a pause, but my spiritual growth is just that... growth. I'm learning and feeling and praying.

Day 4: Schedules and M&Ms

Day 4 was a disappointment. I had a less than filling sub sandwich for lunch, but accepted the fact that this new plan would probably be filled with unsatisfying food. Adam says food is fuel for your body, not a way to please your face. I'd like to hope there was a way to fuel your body AND have a happy face. Let's be honest, an unhappy face usually ends up at Zaxby's. Also, because I was so tired from all the "fuel" I was putting in my body, I caved in and ate peanut m&ms for a snack, but not without my friend Laurie calling me out for it. I justified it in about 5 different excuses and wolfed them down in a record time of 30 seconds. So far, my plan is really panning out. I feel better already (insert sarcasm here).

Adam had to train some folks for volleyball and didn't get home until around 10pm. That meant no running for me. It was too hot for Ella to do anything outside so I spent the time indoors with a living room full of toys that make noise, roll, jump or all of the above, hoping for this sleepy child to except it was bedtime. That way I could at least gear up the Wii Fit. No chance. Stupid schedule. Adam has recently taken a new job which will mean volleyball practices and games are year-round and full of late nights. I'll probably need to find another way to get a run in. Shoot! TWO DAYS?! Really?! That was all I got? But I'm not bitter.

I think I'm on the verge of giving up. Day 3 was a bust. Day 4 was a drag. On to day 5.

Day 3: This....

and pajamas.

Day 2: Willpower

Day 2 was a test of my willpower. I failed. Sitting down at my desk this morning I realized I brought nothing for breakfast. My stomach was acting like a jerk by yelling at me every 3 seconds. I grabbed a few dollars and headed downstairs with the intentions of grabbing a banana or yogurt from the cafeteria. As I ate my powdered donuts back at my desk, I wrote on my notepad "Vending machine 1, Me 0" This was not starting out strong. I was yelled at again later that morning, but this time it was 2 different people at work having bad days. I wasn't "able" to restrain my negative attitude in retort to their words. I later jotted down "Mean people 2, Me 0" So far, I was not on a winning team yet. I was beginning to feel like it was football season all over again. Sorry Gamecocks. My blood still runneth garnet and black. I was in a bad mood and this was not working well in my new plan.

For lunch I ate healthy so that made up for the donuts (in my book) and I was starting to feel better about the day. I avoided cranky women — which meant avoiding emails and phone calls sometimes, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. At this point, I happily looked at my list "Vending machine, 1; Mean people, 2" and added a 2 over my once mocking "0." I'd avoided being nasty to mean people after a bad morning AND ate like a healthy adult for lunch. That meant a fat 2 for me. Don't try to debate me on this one. Trust me. I deserved my 2. I was now even with the mean people on the score board and schooled the vending machine overall. So far, my willpower had sucked it up, but I was in the last quarter of the game and had tied it up with a field goal. However, all this effort to beat the vending maching meant I was losing my motivation to workout as I grew more and more tired throughout the work day. I was wondering if I'd actually pull a win in the end.

I got home and Adam went for a run. I was hoping that would get my psyched for my turn, but all it did was make me want to play with Ella and relax. I procrastinated for 2 hours after Adam's return before I changed out of my work clothes. It was hot and I was tired. Maybe I would just do a workout on the Wii. Unfortunately, there were good tv shows on and turning them off to workout seemed impossible. The remote seemed to be repelled by hand like polar magnets. I strapped on my iPod and went outside with no motivation. Not one ounce joined me as I stepped off my porch. This was going to suck.

I turned on my tunes and started out to the street knowing that if I went by yesterday's efforts, I was about 7% of an athlete. Walking was boring me already. I hadn't built up enough energy to start the jog yet and I was procrastinating even trying. Up and then down a hill and I knew I needed to at least try. I spent most of my time during the jog thinking about 2 things: 1. Why in the world I put some of those stupid songs on my Workout playlist because I now had to spend so much time hitting the "next" button and 2. Why did Akon rhyme "money" with "money?" That just seemed lazy.The heat had died down a good bit and to my surprise, my jog was coming to a close and I actually enjoyed it. I ran most of the way and without the need to ralph. Total running success. Who knew?!

To celebrate my success, I ate well for dinner. Maybe I was gaining willpower after all. Tomorrow may bring good things, too. Before I climbed into bed, I realized I was already getting sore. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm too old for this crap. On to day 3.

Getting Back in Shape- Day 1: You can't walk off puke

Today is the first day of getting in shape. I had no intention of starting a plan like this today. I had visions of a fat, juicy hamburger with fries and giant fountain diet coke for lunch today while keeping myself cool indoors. It wasn't until Adam curled his lip at the idea of a fatty lunch and said "I'm going for a run." that made me want to rethink my day. So, I'm working on eating right, getting exercise, staying positive and keeping my spiritual body fed.

There are a few reasons I've decided to try for my old "before Ella" body.

1. Looking at photos from our recent trip to the beach made me cringe. The tankini that I wore the 2nd day of our trip (because it would be a little more forgiving on my aging body) was anything but forgiving. Wet material does nothing more than cling to my muffin top and fanny pack of fat left over from having a baby. That stupid thing won't go away even though I've lost my baby weight.

2. Losing the baby weight does not mean I have my old body. Flappy thighs, jiggly belly and a saggy rear are new accessories to my frame. I don't even like to accessorize. I noticed these awesome additions in my reflection at the beach while in walking around in my bikini. Not a good look.

3. I need to find a way to feel more like the old me. Having a baby has certainly made me different and that's not a bad thing, but I do miss being my old athletic self. I've been athletic in some form or fashion all my life. Now, I get a cramp walking to the mailbox.

Adam returned from his run, sweaty and tired, but feeling good about what he'd accomplished and proceeded to make a tomato sandwich for lunch. This was far from my original plans for the day. Trying to get inspired and motivated, I put on my running "gear" and came down to the kitchen where Adam and Ella were having lunch. I had my iPod on and was blasting music for about 30 minutes trying to get pumped up and have the courage to face the heat. I was much more interested in dancing in the kitchen and making Ella laugh than heading outside, but I did it anyway. With a belly full of strawberry torte and half a diet coke, I went outside.

With an ear full of music you'd hear at any club on a Saturday night in Myrtle Beach, I started my fast, warm-up walk. It was hot, but not unbearable. Yet. I walked a lot further than I planned. It was like my feet knew the second they picked up speed, I'd want to hurl. Feeling confident, finally, I started my jog. My feet found the beat to the song and I was off. I felt better than I anticipated. This was good. I was in better shape than I thought I was. This was cake. 500 feet into my victorious jog, I hit the holicrap wall. I mustered the strength to jog past a few more mailboxes and then started back to walking. Did it just get hotter out here? If I had to guess, I'd say it was easily 100˚F out. I should have brought water. What seemed to be 10 miles (more like .5) later, I started my jog down hill again.

At this point, I was pretty sure it was now 350˚F out. I know because I've put my hand in the oven to retrieve baked spaghetti and it was about this hot. My skin was sizzling. My shoulders were now turning a shade of pink. Normally I would be excited about this. I was getting a little "workout" tan, but the shades of pale green on my face was distracting from my new sun-kissed glow. I needed to puke. I didn't make it down the hill. I had to return to a walk. I needed to stop, but if I did, I'd be out here longer. Why did I do this? Jogging is overrated. I'm too old. I'll be happy in my flab, right? This was taking forever. I decided that walking slow in the shady parts of the road and then sprint walking to the next shaded area would be my intervals. I needed to puke. I thought I could just walk it off, but you can't walk off puke. I'd say I jogged a solid 7% of the time, walked with a purpose 45% of the time and spent the last 48% searching for shade and trying to keep the hurl from greeting my esophagus. These aren't good numbers, people.

When I finally got home, it was all I could do to make it to the fridge for my water bottle. I didn't puke so it was a victory. When I caught my breath and regained focus in my eyes, I made a cucumber sandwich with a little side of chicken. I was feeling good about what I just accomplished. I was doing what was best for my body.

For dinner, I had a fat, juicy hamburger, fries and a fountain diet coke.

The First Beach Trip

Ella's first beach trip was a quick 4 days to Myrtle Beach. It was fantastic. Getting packed for the beach was a challenge though. I was not only trying to pack for days on the sand, but for any issue we could run into with a 14 month old. A bag full of indoor toys, a wagon full of sand toys, a suitcase with bath toys, 10 outfits for 4 days just in case of a spill, vomit or blown out diaper. Wipes,regular diapers, swim diapers and bags for dirty diapers filled up the entire bottom of my giant suitcase. I'm glad I have an SUV because there was no way we would have made it there. Adam, who had to come later in the day, had to pack up what we couldn't carry. I don't think I realized how much you have to pack for such a small child, especially mine who bores easily.

Ella does not travel well. The 3 hour trip seemed to take 5 hours. We had to stop a few times for food or fetch a paci to calm the screaming in the back seat. I was convinced Ella would have been asleep 5 seconds into the trip, but I was so wrong. She hated the whole trip... well, up until we hit Myrtle Beach traffic and she then fell asleep. Nice. I'm not a huge fan of traveling as it is and having a child who hates it, too doesn't make it any better. Needless to say, when we pulled into the parking lot of our hotel, I was relieved.

I could smell the ocean with my windows up the minute I got to Ocean Blvd. There is a sense of excitement, happiness and joy that only the beach can bring. I couldn't wait for Ella to see it. My parents helped unpack the 400 items from my car and bring them up to our room. Ella was standing at the sliding door looking out. I could tell she was curious as to what all the excitement was outside next to that moving water. After an interesting (I say interesting because Ella was a "delight") dinner, we ran out to the sand and beach water. I didn't even change Ella into a bathing suit. It was getting late and I wanted her to see the ocean before the sun set. I think I sprinted out there with her. It was at that point I wished she could skip so we could skip out there together. I was giddy for her. I was giddy for me.

Mom and I held Ella's hand and walked her to the ocean so she could get her feet wet. She began to shake in fear. She was not a fan. I was worried this would set the tone of the whole trip. We retreated back to the sand where someone had dug a hole earlier that day. Victory! She was so excited about that hole that she jumped in and began pulling dirt in over top of her legs. She was squealing in delight over the sticky sand stuck to every part of her body. I sighed in relief and continued my paparazzi-like flashing of the camera. I didn't want to miss a single second of this trip.

Adam arrived shortly after we returned to the room. After a short encounter with the world's largest dragonfly visiting us in our room and not wanting to leave, we were able to relax in our room and enjoy just knowing we were at beach for the first time in years. It felt good.

Ella loves to dig. She carried her bucket and shovel from the room, to the beach, to the pool, back down to the beach and even to the tub for her bath. We spent the next full day between where the ocean met the sand, the damp sand for building mud piles, the tent for shade and swimming in the pool. We took a break for sandwiches and fruit before starting the process all over again. Ella did great (except for dinners) which made the trip totally worth the agonizing 3+ hour drive with a very unhappy traveler. Dinners were a challenge for a child who no longer wants to be confined even to eat. Eating in shifts while the other walked Ella around the restaurant wasn't ideal, but we survived. Note to self: Avoid dinners out with the 1 year old until she's ready to sit still. I have no idea when that will be.

Our last full day started with a nasty storm that worried us a little. I kept thinking Ella didn't get to spend enough time on the beach. WE didn't get to spend enough time on the beach. However, the sun found it's way back to us and the clouds thinned out and we marched ourselves right back out there. It was "the beach lite" as we didn't bring all the toys and tents out in case the rain found us again. More holes were made and more time was spent in the pool. We loved every minute of it.

We were sad to say goodbye to Myrtle Beach. Even with all the people trying to squeeze in one more trip before school started, it was perfect. I can't wait until Ella can play putt putt at those huge places along Ocean Blvd. I love the beach. I loved watching Ella at the beach. Myrtle Beach.... we will be back.