love

The truth will set you free

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom.” ~Thomas Jefferson

I began writing in this blog as a way to get all the random thoughts out of my head, but also as a way to tell my story.  But as I look back, I realize I haven’t necessarily been upfront and honest.  I haven’t necessarily given all the facts and explained the whole situation. Mostly, this is due to fear. And judgement from people.  And to be perfectly frank, I’m tired of hiding behind fear.

I guess you could say it all began with a trip to Oregon.  At first I was excited.  A trip to the West Coast with a bunch of friends from work and a few days off from the kids to go along with it.  What’s not to love?

Then I remembered that I would have to take an airplane.  Then I remembered I would have to fit into an airplane seat and buckle my seat belt.  Then I remembered every single article I have ever come across about airlines who kick people off the plane for being too fat.  Then I remembered that maybe I would miss my kids and I shouldn’t go after all.

I belonged to a gym, joined in some arbitrary moment of “I can do this!” but at that point my workouts consisted of the 5 minutes I could stand on the elliptical or treadmill and then 30 minutes on the sit down bike.  Throw in a couple of easy strength exercises on the machines, and I thought I was actually accomplishing something.  The fear of getting on the plane and being embarrassed in front of people I had to work with motivated me to do something I had never done before…buy a scale.

After searching for what seemed like hours at a K-mart next to the gym, I finally found one.  I raced home, carried it up to the bathroom, and after ripping off every ounce of clothing and all hair accessories that could add weigh, I gingerly stepped on the scale.

331.

No, that is not a typo.  That was the actual number.  And while I didn’t want it to be true, I knew it was.  I sat down on the bathroom floor and cried for about 10 minutes.  How had it gotten this bad?  How had I let myself get this far gone?  Once I got control of myself, I got up, got dressed, and came up with a plan.  That summer I worked my butt off and in two months (right before my flight) I had lost 20 pounds.  I know that’s not a lot, but to me it was everything.  It represented that I could actually do this.

Long story short, they didn’t kick me off the plane, though I did need a seat belt extender.  But the heart wrenching fear I felt as I approached that first plane was probably the worst in my life. I didn’t sleep for nearly a week.  I vowed that I would continue working out when I got home and would get myself to a healthy place.

And I did.  For awhile. Until once again, life got in the way.  That fall I worked out here and there, but nothing significant.  Between two kids under 3, teaching kindergarten, and trying to be a good wife and mother, I never seemed to find time for the gym.  Finally in January, after realizing I had gained back 12 pounds (bringing me back up to 321) a friend and I decided to sign up for the Y-fit challenge (the YMCA’s version of the biggest loser).  And through that I fell in love with working out.  I lost about 35 pounds, completed my first 5-K and began to gain back some of the confidence I so desperately needed.

And then, as most stories go, my world turned upside down.  During the summer (on my last day of school) my dad died.  We had a rather tumultuous relationship (see posts from then) and I didn’t think it would really affect me.  But it did.  In ways that I will never quite understand.  And the gym took a back burner yet again.  Luckily, I only gained about 5 pounds, but by the time school started again, I was a jumbled wreck.  I didn’t know what was up or down or right or wrong.  All I knew was that I needed something to change.  I needed to be saved.

So I went for a run.  And really, that is the true beginning of my story.  Because on that day I was reborn.  I learned that I can decide how my life is going to go.  I am in charge of myself, my decisions, and my happiness.  I can decide to begin to heal, and grow, and change for the better.  And I did. Or, at the very least I’m in the process.

Over the months I ran occasionally, went to the gym, got injured, and then began again and again.  In January, on the eve of my 33 birthday, I hit my 50 pound mark (60 if you count from my pre-plane freak out weight).  And I’m still going.

I was looking back on old pictures today.  Pictures from pre-kids, pictures from post-kids, pictures from last year, last week, last month and I can’t believe the difference.  It’s not even just the weight, but the confidence, the happiness, the fact that there are more pictures now than there were before.  These are all indicators that maybe this time is the right time.  Maybe I’m finally exactly where I need to be.

And at 269 pounds I am currently running 15 miles a week and training for my first half marathon in the fall.  While I still have so far to go, I’ve never felt better.  I’m ready to begin this new chapter in my life.

I had to start and stop, begin and end, give up and keep going, numerous times to get to this point.

But if I can do it, so can anyone.  If I can do it, so can you.

2009-2013

photo1

 

The last 10 months…

photo2

I’m feeling it.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“For every minute you are angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness.”  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Do you know what I love?

  • Running
  • My kids
  • My absolutely amazing friends
  • Super spicy food
  • Old school Project Runway
  • Salt and Vinegar potato chips
  • The color pink
  • Jeans
  • My crazy, curly hair
  • My house
  • The “greeness” of spring
  • Recycling
  • Men in suits
  • Glasses
  • Champagne
  • Scoop neck shirts
  • The scent of Vanilla
  • Cozy blankets
  • The kiddos in my class
  • Reading
  • Black and white photography
  • Twinkle lights
  • Peonies and hydrangeas
  • My iPhone
  • Quotes
  • Feta
  • Hard wood floors
  • Trivial Pursuit

And so many other things.  Being happier seems to agree with me. I think I’ll keep going.

 

 

Breath in, breath out, let go.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Sometimes life knocks you on your ass… get up, get up, get up!!! Happiness is not the absence of problems, it’s the ability to deal with them.” ~Steve Maraboli

I haven’t posted in quite some time (almost 3 weeks!) and really, I have no good reason.  The truth is, I had a pretty sad few weeks in February.  I don’t know why, I never know why, it is what it is.  I barely ran at all…and when I did, it wasn’t good.  I couldn’t get in the mindset of it.  I couldn’t get past how tired my legs and feet were.  I couldn’t get past how slow I was going.  So in typical me fashion, I stopped.  And while my muscles may have felt better (I was still going to the gym), my mind didn’t.

Then Wednesday I woke up at 4:30 in the morning and couldn’t get back to sleep.  So, I figured, why not go for a run.  Even if I wound up walking it, it was still a form of exercise.  But as soon as I stepped foot outside and started running, the world seemed to drift away and all my problems and worries and anxieties went with it.  After two miles I still felt great so I finished up another half mile before heading home to get ready for work.  And it felt so good to be out of my head for that amount of time, just me and my music in the dark morning, that I got up the next morning and did 3 more.  And then did more on the treadmill on the gym the following morning.  And then did another 3 today.

While I know this is beating a dead horse (as I seem to state it every 5 minutes), I can’t believe how far I’ve come.  I remember a almost a year ago taking part in my first 5K and not believing that I was able to complete it at all just by walking.  Now, I’ve signed up for a half-marathon, a feat I never thought I would accomplish.  I remember week three of couch to 5K and feeling like I was going to die when I had to run for a 5 minute stretch.  And now I’ve run at least 3 miles multiple times.  I remember, in the beginning, after any run, I would pretty much be immobile for the rest of the day.  And just today, I ran 3 miles, then walked another 2 with the littles later on in the afternoon.

With every step I could feel myself letting go of the things that have been weighing me down.  I could feel my strength returning, knowing I was going to be able to handle the new challenges that would come my way.  I could feel my head clearing, seeing answers that have been in front me me all along.

That doesn’t mean, my world has dramatically changed. There are going to be bad days and bad weeks and maybe even bad months.  My problems aren’t going to go away.  My stresses will probably be multiplied over time.  But I need to remember the feeling I am having this week.  The feeling that I can accomplish things.  The feeling that I can get out of my head and leave my worries behind, at least for a little while.  The feeling that I am the one who decides which way my life should go by the choices that I make.

Because every moment is filled with these choices.  Run or don’t run, move on or stay put, feel sad or feel happy, hold on or let go?

100 Mile Challenge Miles Completed: 46.7

Current Weekly Miles: 12

Baby, we were born to run

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Run when you can, walk if you have to, crawl if you must; just never give up.” ~Dean Karnazes

I went for my first run in almost a month yesterday (27 days to be exact).  I was worried that the slow time I was bound to have was going to cause me to become depressed and give up, but in fact, quite the opposite was true.  Yes, I was slow.  My mile time was no where near where I was when I became injured, but it was also no where near where it was when I started running a few months ago. I was happy to see that I wasn’t starting over completely and that I was going to be able to do this after all.  

It was almost humbling to see that I could still run a mile without stopping.  I remember when I first started the couch to 5K program the first interval is run for 1 minute then walk for 1.5 minutes.  Even during that first week, just running for 1 minute was hard.  I wanted to give up, I wanted to cry, I wanted to die from humiliation.  I hated running.  I hated that, for once, I wasn’t going to be able to accomplish something that I wanted to.  Back then, I feel like I really wanted to “run” for the eliteness of it.  To say I was a runner was not only “cool” but it was also going to prove that I was in shape and could do something that so many other people really couldn’t (running is HARD!).  But, now, that’s not the case.  

The best part of my very short, very slow run was the feeling, oh the glorious feeling I had.  I usually feel great (as in happy) when I finish my run, but miserable during. Yesterday, though, I felt wonderful the whole time.  It was hard, don’t get me wrong, and my feet hurt, and my knee hurt, and even my lungs hurt, but I was just so happy to be out and running again that I didn’t care about any of these pains.  It made me realize just how important running had become to me in such a short period of time.  It helps me think, reduces stress, dissipates any anger or aggression I may have accrued during the day.  Honestly, the health and weight loss benefits are simply an added bonus.  I’m not doing this for them.  That’s what the gym is for.  I’m doing this for me.

And now that I’ve realized just how important this is to me, I also realize that I need to do it right this time.  Last time, not only did I do too much too fast, but I also had no consistency with my runs.  I went when I felt like it and made excuses when I didn’t.  I didn’t do any stretching to help out my muscles or range of motion (beyond what I thought I was supposed to do…turns out I was wrong). And, and did nothing to prevent injuries that I might encounter.  As it turns out, my knee “injury” that I babied the last month was simply due to too much strain on my knee because my hip and quad muscles were not strong enough to accommodate my body when running

But, now I’m ready to do this thing, for real.  I mapped out my workouts for the month, used my dicks gift card to buy running socks, hand weights, and a foam roller, and moved the boys into the same room (it’s a really big room, and they love it) in order to create an office/workout space for myself.  

Most importantly I finally bit the bullet and went to Charm City Run (a local running store) to figure out what shoes I REALLY need to deal with all of my foot, leg, knee problems.  I was so concerned with not wanting people to look at my gross feet and watch me run on a treadmill.  Had I not been willing to run I would have wound up with a shoe that felt fine walking, but was terrible when I started running.  I actually settled on a pair of shoes from a brand I thought I would hate because of a previous shoe I tried from them.  It was really exciting to find “the shoe” that was going to work for me.

Running is something I hope I get to stick with for a long time.  It has done so much for me in just a few short months, I can’t believe I was ready to give it up so easily.

So, for now, I’ll take it slow, but I’m ready to run.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said, “To talk of many things”

/ Cassie / 1 Comment

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.”  ~Marilyn Monroe

I really do love this time of year.  I used to think it had to do with idea of Christmas, family, presents, lights, and all the other things that go along with the season.  Yes, these things play a small part in the overall feeling of contentment I get during December, but they are not all encompassing.  I always thought my favorite holiday was Christmas, but it wasn’t until this year that I realized it is not.

My favorite holiday is New Years and for so many reasons.  Honestly, I am big fan of New Years Resolutions.  While I agree that you can begin a resolution at any time and you should never wait to change something you truly believe in, there is something so wonderful about the year ticking over to a new new number.  It’s almost as if New Years Day is a form baptism.  With the change of a number, the mistakes and regrets and uncomfortable feelings cease to exist, making it that much easier to start fresh and anew.  With the rip of a calendar page the whole world can begin again. You can set goals, make new decisions, basically become the person you have been waiting to become.

The other day I looked back on a New Years Eve post that I wrote as 2011 rolled into 2012.  2012 was the year, I decided with a vengeance, that I would have no regrets.  No matter what decision or choice I made, I would go with it, own up to it, and if it didn’t work out, I would roll with the punches.  Needless to say, this did not happen.  I still have a lot of trouble letting go, moving on, and not dwelling on past mistakes and regrets.  But really, in hindsight, this was a terrible resolution to make simply because the failure rate was astronomical.  While I can learn to take my regrets in stride, they will always occur.  It’s how I handle the feelings of regret that is the important part.

I think the reason I am looking forward to this New Years more than any other holiday is because, for the most part, 2013 sucked.  And I don’t mean in an “Oh I dropped my ice cream cone on the ground” kind of way.  I mean in a real, traumatic, life changing kind of way.  The most obvious thing is, of course, my father passing, which lead to a downward spiral of depression, but there was also going through the IEP process with Max, learning nothing was “wrong” with Max, but people made me think there was, a very rough school year last year, money problems, marriage issues, losing a car, and probably a myriad of other small things, that when pieced together were a recipe for disaster.

But this year, it will be different, if for no other reason than it has to be.  I can’t go through another year like last year.  In all honestly, I don’t think I would survive.  I think that because of everything that has happened this year I have grown and changed.  I’m not the same person that I was 365 days ago, and I couldn’t be happier with that.

I don’t have all of my specific resolutions figured out quite yet, but I do know the overarching theme.  Basically, I just need to be myself.  So many of my problems seem to stem from me hiding who I really am or even not allowing myself to shine too brightly in front of others.  I keep thinking that I don’t know who I am, but really I do, I’m just too scared of judgement to always show it.  There are all things we need to work on and change within ourselves, but sometimes, it’s ok to let the weird shine a little bit.

In so many ways I know who I am. I tend to have too many emotions and too often, the way I express them is over the top.  I cry too much, feel too much, love too hard, get jealous when I shouldn’t, and have a terrible temper. I’m loyal, but cautious.  I don’t always believe the best in people, and I’ve been proven right.  These are simply things I am not going to apologize for anymore.  I shouldn’t have to apologize for my feelings because they are real and a part of who I am, and the way I feel is important.  I need to stop worrying about constantly being judged.

Judgement seems to come at all times, even when we are doing something to better ourselves or set out in the right direction.  I think that is part of the reason I never really got anywhere with my running.  Sure, I improved, but I definitely didn’t try as hard as I could.  Basically, it was because I wouldn’t allow myself to take myself seriously and this was a mistake.  I was so worried people were going to judge me: Why does she think she can be a runner?  She’s not a real runner.  Why are you buying another pair of running shoes, you’re not a real runner…you’re like a really fast walker.  These are all thoughts that I thought other people were going to say about me because these are all thoughts that I was saying to myself.

Yes, I’m probably never going to run a marathon.  Yes, I’m pretty slow. Yes, there are a million reasons why I shouldn’t be running.  But I am.  And I like it.  And that’s all that matters.  And I don’t need to apologize for it.

I’m allowed to try hard.  I’m allowed to be good at things. Hell, I’m allowed to be bad at things.  I’m allowed to love you too much and tell you about it.  I’m also allowed to tell you why you are hurting my feelings if you are.  I’m allowed to take a break from people who aren’t letting me be me and are constantly trying to put me down to make themselves feel better.  I’m allowed to be who I am, and if someone doesn’t like it, it’s their loss.  I actually think I’m pretty awesome sometimes.

2014: The year of being me.

How nothing and everything has changed…

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Driving home, the sky accelerates
And the clouds all form a geometric shape
And it goes fast
You think of the past
Suddenly everything has changed” ~The Flaming Lips

Since I hadn’t been on Facebook in a few weeks, I missed random things that were happening.  As I perused a little this morning, I saw my brother had posted that last Thursday marked 6 months since my father passed away.  I couldn’t believe it.  Had it really been six months already? Had close to 180 days truly passed?  Have I simply been asleep or in a coma to suddenly wake up and find out this information? How can something feel like yesterday and years ago all at once?

I can honestly say that I have been through more in this 6 months than probably the rest of my life put together.  The dizzying highs and lows, the turmoil that was self-created throughout the summer, it caused a sort of retreat into myself that I have not quite been able to come out of yet.  True, I am not the person I was in August, not quite knowing which way was up and which way was down, confused about the sheer aspect of living life on a daily basis at time.  I am far from that, but I still sometimes feel the need to protect myself from people, and even from feelings, making sure I don’t become that summertime person I was.

While I have let go of the summer; of my dad, of memories, unsure decisions, and enlightening life changes, I haven’t truly let go.  Everything about these few months still hang around me like a dark cloud that could either blow on by or begin pouring down on me at any minute. Every time I think my stride has become right again and my path is straight and narrow a turn, or a rock, or even a small pebble comes out of nowhere to cause me to stumble and fall.  It causes me to relive and remember things that I don’t necessarily want to.

While I may have used the excuse of my dad dying before as the reason I was so off kilter this summer, I need to stop. First and foremost, it’s not fair to him.  He wasn’t a great man, frankly, he wasn’t a good man either, at least not to me, but when someone leaves us we can choose how we see things, and I choose to remember the early years over the later ones.  It’s not fair to continue to blame him for my short comings.  True, his death contributed, but only in the way that it caused initial strife and turmoil within myself.  I had the choice at that moment to begin getting better or continue down a path of self-destruction and we know which one I chose. I had no way to handle my feelings, or really simply to understand them, so I created myself anew, became someone that I wasn’t, simply so I wouldn’t have to deal with the effects of the pain; simply so I wouldn’t have to deal with feeling anything at all.

So many things died this summer, most notably, important parts of myself marred by uneasy choices and decisions along the way.  I have used the fall to rebuild what was lost and broken, and find the parts that were stolen and forgotten about. Some times I feel like I am back together better than ever and at others I feel like I am still a giant pile of rubble ready to be swept into the trash, missing pieces that are so integral to my survival

I’d like to be all zen and believe that all the decisions, even the bad ones, contribute to who you are. I’d like to think that even the bad decisions have gotten me to the place I am today and I should be grateful.  But I’m not all zen. I’m not even a little zen.  I’m not an optimist, I’m a realist.  In the words of Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Life could be a little sweet, But life could be a little shitty.”  And really, in a nutshell, that’s how I feel.

But if we’re still breathing, if we’re still upright, if we can still find something to smile about, then we haven’t lost our hope.

What I know now more than ever is that sometimes life sucks.  But then again, sometimes it doesn’t.

Another Old Post…This time about Max.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

I posted an old post about Ollie a few weeks ago, so I feel like I should do the same for Max.  Here are two posts about going through the IEP process with him.

My Dearest Maxer:

Tomorrow is my first meeting with the IEP team about you.  We’re not sure what’s going on, if anything is going on at all.  You’ve been having some trouble at school playing with friends and following directions and we just want to see if there is anything we can do to help you out!  That’s not to say you don’t have good days.  As a matter of fact, you have had two perfect days at school that last two days!

We’ve been so proud of you throughout your short, but lively, three and half years.  When you were born, it was a miracle.  Literally, a miracle.  It was the happiest day of my life and I can’t see any way that day will be topped.  I wanted to take this time now, before any meeting, before any checklist or specialist can decide who you are, to tell you all the things you are to me, and how, no matter what is said, these things will never change.

  • Our eyes are exactly the same color.  I haven’t noticed this until recently, but I love that we have this in common. You actually told me about this. Its a subdued hazel color that reminds me of a calm lake and I love that it links us together in a way that is only for us.
  • You have the most amazing vocabulary, better than most kids I know.  You use so many words I didn’t even know you knew and in the correct way
  • You are a wonderful big brother.  You go out of your way to make sure your brother is included in most things you do and are always sharing with him and asking him to play with you.
  • Your memory is remarkable.  You remember things I may have said once weeks, even months, ago (and are oh so kind to always remind me)
  • You give the best hugs.
  • You love your family; your grandparents, your uncles, and me and daddy.  You have no trouble telling us this and do so frequently.  This is a gift.  Don’t ever lose it.
  • One of my favorite times of day is the first five minutes that you wake up.  You run in, jump into bed with me and pretend to go back to sleep as you snuggle up.  Guess what.  I pretend to stay asleep, just to have a couple quiet minutes with you.
  • You love to help out and always want to be involved in everything.
  • Your stubborn streak drives me crazy, but I secretly love it.  It’s a part of me in you.
  • You are very interested in building and making things.  Anything you can do with your hands, really.  That makes me so proud considering I can’t even put together IKEA furniture.
  • You have a very active imagination.  You make up amazing stories and songs and constantly keep me laughing.

I could continue to write this list forever but I’ll stop here for now. Really, there is only one thing you need to know. No matter what happens, I love you.  As long as you know that we have nothing else to worry about.

Love,

Mom

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I realize it’s been a while since I’ve posted. Part of me just wasn’t ready to post until I had a final answer about Max. The other part of me has been crazy busy with so many things going on that I can’t even keep my head straight most of the time.

About a month ago we had Max’s testing date. I got the results in the mail a few days ago and today I met with that evaluation team to talk about the results. He received hearing and vision tests, was observed at school by a child psychologist to evaluate social behavior, and was given language, speech and cognitive tests as well.

One of the biggest things we found out was that Max has profound hearing loss in his right ear and borderline hearing loss in his left ear. This hearing loss has most likely been there for a while, probably more than a few months and it just shocks me that we never even noticed anything about it. Both the audiologist and the pediatrician believe it’s due to fluid buildup behind the eardrum when he had an ear infection almost a year ago! We went back today and saw that the hearing loss is getting worse.  We’re hoping that with this next round of medication he will be able to regain all of his hearing. If not we’ll have to visit the ENT to find out if surgery is needed.

As for the other tests, long story short…we have a well adjusted, highly articulate and well mannered, very bright, slightly fine motor delayed three year old who is well socialized for his age in all areas.  I don’t know if you know what it’s like to have a 50 pound bolder lifted off your chest, but that’s what this news felt like.  As first I was so relieved that I cried.  Then I became so angry I cried.  For two years we have been going through this nightmare where his teachers have been saying that something is wrong, or he might be on the spectrum and in reality, nothing is wrong. I wasted two years of my life trying to change my child and expecting him to adapt to what certain people think is “normal” instead of finding the right environment for him…the one that will let him be his quirky, lovable self.

Throughout this whole process I’ve learned a lot about Max, things I never knew.  Amazing, wonderful, delightful things.  But more importantly I’ve learned a lot about myself and my role as a mother and an advocate for my children. I’ve learned better to stand up for myself, my thoughts, and my opinions, and to stand up for theirs because they can’t do it themselves yet…that is, until I teach them to.

Throw Back Sunday (an oldie, but goodie about marriage).

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

I wrote this post over a year ago on my old blog.  A YEAR AGO.  I identified these problems a year ago and still have not done enough to solve them. 

*Hangs head in shame*

I have been home for the past five days because of Hurricane Sandy.  It’s been nice being able to spend so much time at home and with the kids (really, I’m not being sarcastic).  Of course, every night when they have gone to bed I have spent many hours reading, knitting, and playing on the internet.  I actually started about 5 different blog posts as well, but something made me want to spend more time on this one today.  On one of my MANY Pinterest visits I came across an article called “16 Ways I Blew My Marriage” It was written by a man so I figured I could get a lot of information from it, showing new ways that I am right in our arguments, but my husband was wrong.

As I began reading (and continued through the entire list of 16), I realized this article actually detailed all the ways that I was creating strife and conflict in our marriage.  It really did hit me hard and I have spent a lot of time thinking about this article the past few days. Below are a list of the 10 things from Dan’s article that I identified with the most with an explanation of how I am currently ruining things.  You can find his complete post in the link above.

1. Don’t Stop Holding Hands

I am terrible at this.  We held hands so much in the beginning, but now, not so much, and it is entirely my fault.  I don’t know why.  Maybe it’s the fact that I have two littles vying for my hands now as well?  I don’t know.  Point is, I need to stop thinking that my kids are the only ones that need a little affection.

2. Don’t Stop Trying to Be Attractive

Guilty as charged again.  As a kindergarten teachers most of clothes are practical and stained.  On the week-ends I tend to wind up in khakis and jeans.  I do have make-up and jewelry and nice clothes, which, for some reason I only wear when going  out with friends.  Why?  Again, I don’t know, but maybe if I tried a little harder I would gain the confidence that I seem to be missing as well.

3. Don’t Always Point Out Weaknesses

For some reason I was under the assumption that all my nitpicking was good.  In my head I was challenging him to be a better person.  Now, I realize, I was just tearing down.  I truly believe that spouses are supposed to challenge each other and you should want to be a better person for your spouse, but at what expense?  Not at the expense of love, happiness, and self esteem.

4 & 5. Don’t Yell at Your Spouse or Call Names

This is the number one on my list.  No explanation needed.  I need to stop.  Period. Especially in front of the kids.  Enough said.

6. Don’t be Stingy With Your Money

I do this all the time.  How many times do I spend $7 on a cup of coffee from Starbucks (yup, I said $7) only to yell at him for buying a soda at 7-11.  I know why do it.  I am a control freak.  I need to be in control of EVERYTHING.  Only I don’t.  And I need to sit back, and let go sometimes.

7. Don’t Argue in Front of the Kids

I’m stealing Dan’s words here because I can’t write it better. “There was never any argument that was so important or pressing that we couldn’t wait to have it until the kids weren’t there. I don’t think it takes a rocket scientist or super-shrink to know why fighting in front of the kids is a dangerous and selfish way of doing things.

8. Don’t Encourage Each Other to Skip Working Out

We should want each other to be the best versions of ourselves, and I would hope that he would do the same.  Maybe, though, this is one of those things we can start doing together.

9. Don’t Stop Kissing

I know this isn’t just me and happens to most of my married friends.  When you work full time and have two kids everything becomes a time crunch and I always feel like every minute of every day should be filled doing something useful and kissing simply takes up those minutes. But I have to remember that spending time connecting with my husband is also useful.

10. Don’t Stop Having Fun Together

The kids have great grandparents in the fact that they spend a lot of time over there and are usually gone one night a week.  And what do we do? Watch TV, play on the computer, sleep.  I have to remember that there are a ton of things we can do that don’t require money and would probably help build up our relationship.

So, now the challenge comes to start to make things better.  Identification of the problem is half the battle, right?

My Latent Love (an old post about Oliver)

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

Here is a post a wrote about Ollie in January 2012 on an older blog.  I loved it so much I felt like I needed to share it again…

My little O is about to turn one in just twelve short days.  I have really been reflecting on this lately because, as I look back, I can’t believe how far we’ve come and what we’ve overcome together.

M has always been considered and probably always will be considered my little miracle baby.  Born after 2 losses, arriving almost six weeks early, it was hard not to love him at first sight.  This was something I had worked so hard to obtain, not just for for nine months, but for the three years before he was born as well.  He looked exactly like me and we were inseparable since our first day together.   And, in all honesty, we still are.  We are two peas in a pod, cut from the same cloth.  Our personalities are so in sync that at times it is hard to figure out where I end and he begins.  There is, of course, a bond between father and son, but not quite like the one we share.

In opposition, being pregnant with O felt like a chore.  I know it had  a lot to do with having a toddler already, having to keep it a secret because we lived with my in laws at the time, and spending all my time worrying about where we were going to live, how we were going to pay for things, etc, but still I wanted it to be over.  I was ready for him to be born and ready to get the “parenting two under two” show going.

When he was born, he was absolutely perfect in every way a baby could be, but I was still worried.  Not about him because he was everyone’s favorite, but about M and how we would take it.  I know I should have been more worried about O, trying to spend more time with him, but I felt like, for some reason, he didn’t need me as much.  He had daddy, and the grandparents, everyone fawning all over him and all I could think about was how to make sure M was included in all of the newness and excitement.

I know moms that will sugar coat things and say that bringing a new baby into the fold was easy and natural, but I’m not going to lie.  From the minute we walked in that door and we were all left alone it was hard.  Taking care of two in a tiny house was insane.  Having no income at all while on maternity leave was a nightmare.  O was sick a lot and in turn we were all sick.  My sleep suffered.  My marriage suffered, everything seemed to be changing and I really wasn’t ready for it to.

My siblings and I are completely different, so I don’t know why I thought that O would be easy just like his brother.  There were/are so many differences, even from the beginning.  O wanted a lot of attention.  He loved to be held and be around people, especially his brother.  He was noisy and cried a lot and ate a lot, and was a terrible sleeper (still is!)

But with all of that came his smile, his huge blue eyes, and his ability to find joy and laugh at everything.  My day doesn’t feel complete if O isn’t up to say goodbye to me in the morning.  No matter what kind of day I am having, seeing him run to greet me when I come home with that huge smile on his face is all I need to change my day around completely.  He is definitely daddy’s boy, through and through, but I know we have something too, a connection that only a mom and son could have.  It may have taken a little while, but now I realize that I would not be able to function if he were not here with us.  He is the puzzle piece in the middle…the one without which you have no idea what the picture actually is, the one that keeps everyone together.

At first I felt guilty about these feelings I had, like I wasn’t a good enough mother for some reason because my heart did not burst full of love the minute I conceived, but I know that I shouldn’t.  My love for O grew a little bit each day and I know that even now it is not done growing.  Today I can say I love him to the moon and back, but that’s just because we don’t know what they will discover past the moon in the future.

Run, Forrest, Run!

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“The miracle isn’t that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start.” ~John Bingham

So, it seems like maybe, just maybe, it’s actually getting easier.  The running thing, that is.  I don’t know what it is, but my last two runs were really good.  Did I just want to stay in bed when the alarm went off?  Absolutely!  Did I feel like I was going to die during my Couch to 5K workouts?  You bet!  Did I feel absolutely amazing when I actually finished? Yes Yes Yes!  I feel like I have finally gotten my pacing down and even my uphill running didn’t bother me like it usually does.  My legs felt lighter and I felt like I could go for longer that I normally do.  All in all, I felt like maybe I was an actual runner, and not someone pretending to be one.

I’m not sure what the change was.  Maybe my body is finally getting used to the early mornings and the pounding of the pavement.  Maybe it’s the stretching I’m doing every night to help with the plantar fasciitis.  Maybe it’s the fact that I feel like I’m feeling getting somewhere with this running thing.  I just finished week 4 of couch to 5K.  Every other time I started this (cough 4 times) I never got past week 4 day 1 before I decided to quit running.

But maybe, just maybe, it’s because I have stopped putting so much pressure on myself about the whole thing.  A few weeks ago, when I was naive enough to think I knew what I was doing, I ran a 10 minute mile.  Of course, after that, I could barely walk a 20 minute mile because my body was soooooo tired.  When I couldn’t recreate that 10 minute mile every time I walked out of the house I started to get discouraged and really felt like giving up.  I was never going to beat that 10 minutes mile, so why try?  But, why do I have to “beat” any kind of time?  Why can’t I just run and enjoy myself?  In the grand scheme of the world, is the time of my mile important?  I have short legs and a short stride.  I am never going to be “fast”.  And this is OK.

Another example: A few days ago I started to get really nervous about The Color Run coming up in Baltimore on the 17th.  My goal was to be able to run the whole thing.  Now, I’m thinking I won’t quite be there yet.  I started to feel defeated and, quite honestly, like a failure.  But why?  Am I not going to attempt to run the whole thing?  Of course I am.  Am I going to be going at a snail’s pace?  Of course I am.  But I don’t have to feel bad if I have to walk part of it.  This whole “thing” is a process.  It’s not something I simply wanted to accomplish, check off a list, and then move on to something else.  I actually want to be in this for the long haul.  I want to be able to make this an integral part of my life for as long as I can.  And, you know what?  3.1 miles is 3.1 miles whether I walk it or run it.  It’s still 3.1 miles more than if I just stayed on the couch.

I have also been feeling defeated because the numbers on the scale ARE NOT moving.  It seems like no matter what I do, it really likes the number I’m on right now.  But then I saw a picture of me taken almost a year and a half ago.  Before I even considered working out.  Before I could run more than a minute without almost throwing up.  Before I could last more than 3 minutes on the elliptical (I kid you not, my actual first workout on the elliptical lasted 3 minutes and I was dying by the end of it).  I put it next to a picture I took on Sunday before my run.

And with this picture I realized that I really don’t care about the number on the scale or the number of my pants size.  Even when I don’t think I am getting anywhere, I am.  A picture it worth 1,000 words.  And I feel like most of mine, in this moment, have to do with feeling awesome for what I have accomplished.

Miles to go in the 100 Mile Challenge: 46.25

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