Body Strong

Body Strong

When you're a teenager, you start to notice your physical appearance more. You finally clamber over the hurdle you face from age nine to about twelve where you look back at pictures of yourself and think, "Did I even own a hairbrush?" 

After you start brushing your hair and maybe experimenting with makeup, you begin to also notice things you like and you don't like about the way you look.

From teen-hood and into our twenties, women often strive for a goal with their physical shape. A lot of women strive for that "perfect" size and for the first time, many of us understand the concept of "skinny jeans". 

We purchase these jeans in our twenties and never get rid of them. We keep them either as a memento of how thin we once were, for some the jeans are a goal to achieve again someday. 

And for others, on a very sad Saturday night they are just a pair of jeans you end up burying your face into while you cry about the boy who broke your heart and how it truly is the end of the world because not only is your heart broken, but you will never fit into these jeans again!!!

I was definitely a "size-achiever" kind of girl until I had my second baby. The first one didn't really do any awesome damage to my body. My bellybutton was always one of my favorite features (don't ask me why, it's strange I know) probably because it went well with my once flat stomach. Anyway, my bellybutton popped like a turkey timer on Thanksgiving around week 25 with my first pregnancy and will NEVER look the same again. But other than that, I didn't come out with too many scary differences other than gaining a significant amount of weight the first time around.

The second pregnancy made my body look like I had fought a battle with the stretch-mark beast and he won.

After giving birth to this lovely peach that assisted in my new, "you'll never wear even a tankini again" look, I did the unthinkable and started looking at myself in a mirror. 

I didn't go all conservative either, I stood in front of a full length mirror without a stitch of clothes on and decided to take it all in. 

I asked myself what I was proud of. 

I was proud of my strong hips that had carried two babies almost back-to-back.

I was proud of my arms which are able to hold my children and care for my family.

I was even proud of my belly, although scarred and completely different than what I was given BK (Before Kids). 

I began to realize that a woman's body is so amazing! We have an amazing designer who decided to allow birth and life and nourishment to come directly from us.

Women who have children or don't are designed to display strength and beauty, and I felt so much pride to be one of those women.

As I stood there in front of the mirror, I decided to do something about my post-post-baby-weight (I felt I needed to count it twice since I didn't loose the baby-weight from the first pregnancy). But ultimately I decided to leave behind my "perfect size" goals.

I've decided to be more interested in what my body is capable of, and less interested in what it looks like.

After kids, on this side of surgery, my body will never be the same. But I'm okay with that. Why would I want to completely take away the evidence that I've had children? 

These are the scars I bear, this is the size I am and this is where I'm at. So for now, I've decided to be proud of where God has me.

Alone Time...

 

I've read many books that are supposed to prepare you for parenthood. I've also read a lot of parenting websites and their advice on how to adjust to being a new parent, the first or second time. 

These reputable and wise sources will often say, "Make sure you make time for you". The sources may even go as far as suggesting that you should "read a book", "call a friend" or "take a warm bath". (Are the people who write these things even parents?)

Now when I was a mother of one, this "alone time" was during nap. I often looked forward to nap time and even had the opportunity to long for my one-and-only to wake up, just so I could see him.

Juggling two is a completely different story. The siblings have plotted and agreed to only sleep if the other one is either ready to wake up, or is awake and doesn't plan on sleeping for at least two hours. 

On the rare occasions that they are asleep at the same time (which is usually a lapse of 15 minutes; how do you think I have time to write this?) I begin to frantically fly around the house trying to catch up on laundry and usually our only substantial meal of the day, which is dinner. The food prep usually starts around 11a.m. and is frequently not even complete by the time my husband comes home somewhere around 5p.m.

 This chaos, with children not sleeping and my house NEEDING to be somewhat organized so I myself don't go completely crazy has often lead to fantasies.

When I throw that word out there, I'm sure many people would immediately think of this as something naughty. 

I'm talking about the kind of fantasies that frequent a stay-at-home mom's brain.

I fantasize often about my life BK (Before Kids). It's not that I truly wish I didn't have my babies-I love them, but I do often look back on my life BK and think, "I didn't appreciate sleeping in enough", Or, "Remember the Saturdays where I used to wake up late, go leisure shopping and grab coffee with a friend? All this before catching a nap before heading out for evening plans with my girls."

Some women fantasize about being with other people, but I just fantasize about being by myself. 

So I'm raising my coffee-tumbler (which by now has cold coffee in it) to all the mamas who have squeezed into their coat closet, shut the door and breathed the air of "alone time" even if it's for a few short minutes.

Where to Start.

Having two children is just crazy for me sometimes. I think of women like Michelle Duggar (from TLC's show 19 and Counting) and often loudly say to myself, "I don't know how the woman does it!!!" 

When we had our first son it was work, but everything was new. It was also just "caring" for him for the first year of his life. 

Since he passed a year old and is now very strongly into being a typical (and often times stubborn) two-year old, the "caring" for him has turned into "parenting". Yes, I say that with quotations because I am frequently questioning my parenting skills, often several times a day.

 

I was a nanny for many, many years before I had my own children. It seemed so much easier to care for other people's children. I had no problems with boundaries, playing with them, and guiding them into good choices. Now that I'm a parent, I often question whether or not what I'm doing is actually the right thing. This probably has more to do with my lack of a solid night's sleep in about four years if you count pregnancy sleep too. 

When we had our second child, a girl, five months ago, our world was pretty much rattled as much as it ever has been before. 

I look at my house sometimes and think, "If someone had taken a picture of how messy this place is and said, 'Yep, you'll be living in the midst of this someday' I would have first cried, and then told them that I didn't believe them." 

Most of these entries will be about the craziness, because our life is SO crazy right now. But it's a good life, a blessed life, and this is just where I've decided to start...