To Whom it may concern

Dear Makers of Elf on a Shelf,

Seriously! This Elf - he's killing me!

I see adorable photos ALL OVER my Facebook and Instagram feed of this lil guy doing clever things: he's wearing adorable costumes, getting into cute mischief, making childhood magic.  I wish I was THAT mom, I'd love to be that mom -  but let me be honest here,  I am soooo not that mom! However, mom guilt.  Modern-pintrest-social media-make every moment fucking magical- mom guilt...give me a good reason to pull out my credit card and solve his one like the consumer driven woman that I am.

Here's what I need to participate in this "tradition" and go back to sleeping peacefully in December.

I'd like a kit - 12 days.  I'm not even gonna fool myself into believing i'll be starting this the day after Thanksgiving.  I just won't.  In fact I'm a procrastinator with a busy schedule and a full brain so I'd like to be able to get this kit via Amazon Prime and within 48 hours.  Pretty please.  If you could just auto refill this yearly and charge my card, that'd be great too.

Please make sure to include a clean napkin.
Most weeks I still forget to buy toilet paper.

I would like the kit to model that of Blue Apron.  Give me 12 days of photos, accessories and detailed instructions on how to dress and hide that little guy.  Leave nothing to my over taxed imagination.

Bonus points if you can also include wine to fill my modern advent calendar. Because Holidays.


 Kindly Yours,

Adorable! Will you please add in a magic
sponge so that I can put this one on social media.

One of my favorites! Can you please include the flour.
Or maybe a pre-made mix of some sort so that my kids find
this one plausible. 

Kristi

10 Winter Activities for Toddlers

So, Michigan winter - it sucks! Sure there are a few really nice days when the sun is out and the three feet of snow has not yet turned into a giant, deadly ice bank, but mostly it's sub zero temps with shitty blowing winds and black slushy snow lining the streets.  Not exactly the picture of a Dickens painting.  

I'm a summer girl with sunshine in her veins! I love nothing more than playing outside, hiking, parks, gardening, the water - so long as the temperature remains above 40 degrees I am as happy as the day is long. But currently, I'm held up in our house, with a 3 year old and a 1 year old and it's officially too cold to go outside.  Like seriously, I think it's 4. FOUR! FOUR FUCKING DEGREES.  But with the wind chill it feels like -7.  It's awesome.

Now sure I could take my kids to some local pay-to-play places, with 2 kids that's roughly $16 to walk in the door, plus snacks so that's another $5.  Oh but they have colds - not a big deal, we always seem to leave these places sick anyways so eh.  So let's say we pony up once a week for an additional $80 a month, that still leaves me with 16 days a month, during this awesome season, that I have to occupy them inside.  

So, I have complied a tried and true list of super fun toddler activities for those days (or weeks) when you're just stuck inside. 

1. Make a pretend car out of a box

Put that Amazon Prime habit to good use and turn those old boxes into imaginary vehicles.  Cars, spaceships, trains...the skies the limit.  Well really I'm the limit - I hate to craft and I have ZERO artistic abilities.  My three year old gets really into this but my one year old just wants to rip apart everything he builds, so they fight.  They scream.  They cry. This wonderful exploration into their imagination should give you about 45-90 seconds of pure magic and than it's a shit show of tantrums and fights.  Cheers.

2.  Curl up and watch a Disney classic.

Grab a large glass of wine ahead of time, drink 'er down.  Now prepare to answer all of your 3 year olds questions about why the mommy or daddy just died.  Do this in 5 minute intervals for the next 90 minutes.

3.  Play hide-and-seek

Yeah that's right.  Close those eyes, close em tight.  Now count to 1 million WITH Mississippi's. Enjoy that peaceful moment. Now go find your kids. I hope your house is more child proof than mind.  I found my daughter in her dresser drawer (thanks to her brother).  I panicked at the thought of the dresser tipping over on her and crushing her, I think I read a warning about this on Facebook once. I forgot hide-and-seek was the devils game.  I opened some wine.  We tried again.  My son hid on the couch watching the Disney movie I forgot to turn off, he had more questions about mommies and daddies dying.  I drank the wine I opened.

4. Bake Cupcakes

This one worked out pretty well, I let my son crack the eggs, my daughter helped us stir, I scooped out egg shells and cleaned a dozen eggs off the kitchen floor. All things considered we were doing good until they had synchronizing sneezes right into the batter.  Now you have two choices; bake the sneeze cakes or toss them out.  If you toss them out you get tears.  If you bake them but don't eat a sneeze cake yourself (mooooomy, why won't you try one of my cupcakes?) you also get tears.  Pick your poison. 

5. Play with ALL THE TOYS

That's right - just let those little miracles destroy the house, at least they are occupied.  I let mine bowl with the La Croix.  Then we wait to see which one Daddy opens when he comes home.  This "destroy everything" game works really well until someone steps on a lego.  Usually it's me.  Now I have to spend the next 3 hours reminding my kids that "holy fuck" is a mommy word.  Seriously, stepping on a rogue lego HURTS! 

6. Learning Activities 

There are all kinds of flash cards and workbooks designed for toddlers to help them get into Yale by 14 or something.  I tried this - my daughter ate the flashcards.  All of them.  My three year old just ran in circles around the living room like a Tasmanian devil.  I opened some cheep champagne and raised a glass to community college.  Finally something in our future we can afford! 

7.  Read books

This is one that my kids both love and participate well in.  They LOVE story time!!! It's a wonderful way for us to spend 5 minutes together bonding.  It's the next 11 hours and 55 minutes of my day that make me nuts.  I have to remind them, again, and again, and again, that it's too cold to play outside.  We practice numbers when I do this; "see this is the number 3, that's how warm it is.  The number 38 is mommies cut off...do you know how many numbers come after 3 and before 38..." Here - have some YouTube.  Is 11 hours of Paw Patrol too much? 

8. Paint

Go ahead girl and get your craft on! We finger paint - I have the Instagrams to prove it.  It takes me longer to set up and clean up then their attention spans can handle, always requires a bath afterwards and somehow we got paint on the ceiling but yeah, get that craft on! I love the sounds of them laughing and creating....followed shortly by the sounds of them fighting over the same paint brush.  My daughter loves to do whatever her brother is doing, wants whatever is in his hands, likes to try to sit in his lap.  He responds by painting on her.  She screams.  Everyone cries.  I only attempt this one when I discover a forgotten IPA in the back of my fridge.  That 9% alcohol makes it easier to listen to them scream while I attempt to get paint off of the ceiling.  Here's to a magical childhood! 

9. Go to Target

Pack-up.  Go stroll through Target.  Spend $300.  Wish you'd of just paid the $20 and gone to the kids play place to catch a new round of hand-foot-mouth disease. 

10.  Suck it up and play outside

Nope! Nope! Nope! I put this one on here because it just felt right, but there's not a snowballs chance in hell I'm going outside in single digit weather to play.  It takes me an hour to bundle everyone up.  My daughter just stands there and cries - yeah lady, I get it.  Mommy is crying on the inside too.  My son reminds me of my old lab, he stomps around in the snow like a little snow king, pulling off his gloves because he can't grab things with them on.  I use my mom voice "Jackson, you MUST wear gloves!" He refuses.  I turn around and my daughter is still crying.  She hates her winter clothes.  Then I have to drag him kicking and screaming back inside before the frost bite sets in.  

Is it May yet?

It's with a heavy heart I announce our divorce...

My husband and I had a disagreement on how we view our marriage and the priorities we have set.  I said during this discussion that:

 "I'm afraid if we continue along this path at some point one of us is going to have an affair"

What Mark heard was:

 "I cheated on you - in fact I'm actively cheating on you right now."

He began to yell and scream and got hysterical because he feared I would ruin our marriage, disrespect him and our kids and cause him great harm and hurt. 

I repeated:

 "babe, I DID NOT cheat on you, what I said was...." but he cut me off. He was so upset that I cheated on him that he STOPPED listening to me. 

That night he moved out of our bed room.  The more he sat reflecting on my infidelity the more angry and emotional he became. The next day he continued to REACT. 

In the morning he took to Facebook:

"I just wanted to let our friends and family know that Kristi cheated on me. She admitted this to me by her own words and I've decided to act to protect our kids. I ask for your prayers and well wishes during this emotional and difficult time" 

I was dumbfounded, because ya know, I didn't ACTUALLY cheat on him. He'd misunderstood me completely. 

I got a call later that day from my mom - she was devastated.  How could I do that she asked? I explained, or tried to explain, that I did NOT cheat on him but she cut me off: 

"Kristi, I saw it on facebook. Why would Mark write that if it's NOT true? He would never do that! That's not the Mark we know. Stop hiding the truth from me!" 

I got the feeling she had made up her mind before she even called me. 

So Marks declaration of my indiscretion was shared and the news spread and you can imagine most of our family rallied behind Mark.  I, had after all, completely betrayed him and the sanctity of our marriage.  

Our home became hostile, divided.  I stopped trying to correct him and instead just began to plan for our eminent divorce.  I waited for him to file first.  Since I had NEVER ACTUALLY cheated on him I did not feel that being the first to file for divorce was appropriate. 

So, Mark REACTED by filing for divorce as well as sole custody of our kids.  My infidelity, according to him, had ruined our home, emotionally wrecked our kids and he didn't want them to be raised by someone who would do such horrible things to someone they "loved".  He also sat them down to tell them that they were all moving out.  The kids are devastated but I guess I should have expected some collateral damage...

After about a year I tried one last time to save our marriage.  I came to him and said:

 "babe, I'd really like to explain what I meant last year when I made that comment"

Mark just went to his phone, opened up FB and showed me his post from last year: 

"I just wanted to let our friends and family know that Kristi cheated on me. She admitted this to me by her own words and I've decided to act to protect our kids. I ask for your prayers and well wishes during this emotional and difficult time" 

Ahh, damn you Time Hop! 

He pointed to this post and said:

 "I wrote this post so that you couldn't manipulate me down the road into believing your lies! I get to see, in black and white and with my OWN eyes what YOU DID to us!"

But DID I?

Well fuck. There it goes, my marriage - if only he had waited to REACT he may have seen that I NEVER ACTUALLY CHEATED ON HIM! Oh the good times we could possibly have had...maybe it would have all been okay. 

Maybe not, but I didn't even get a chance to prove him right, his mind was already made up and there was NO CHANGING it. I mean, he read his own words...written in FEAR, but he read his own words and no matter what I did, or what I said, he just re-read his words and reaffirmed that I CHEATED. 

I'm trying to keep politics off of my blog.  BUT it's crazy to me, no matter what your politics, how we read and hear what we WANT to hear! It's no longer just the far left or the far right publishing slanted opinions or "news stories" it seems to be EVERYWHERE! I have lost faith in ALL media - it's ALL become propaganda in my opinion. I scroll through my news feed and there are two stories 180 degrees apart about the same event - it's unbelievable.  I like a good reaction as much as anyone but people are ready to undermine our entire democratic process, bulling the Electoral delegates in hopes they go rogue, SENDING THEM DEATH THREATS and talking about a MAJOR (and not really plausible) amendment to the constitution because they are AFRAID the President Elect MIGHT do something horrible based on what's been WRITTEN about what he SAID.  Do we really want to set a precedent that we can change the outcome of a vote? Based on a belief of what they MAY do? Really? Those are muddy waters no matter what side of the coin you're on.  Can't we all just calm the fuck down for just a minute...just a wee minute and SEE if he ACTUALLY DOES something before we REACT? 

Mitch Album reminded us something that I loved and found wise and comforting: "we didn't elect a king, we voted in a president" - one who was scrutinized by EVERYONE including his own party, that very same party that he needs to ACTUALLY implement policy and law.  Maybe we don't have to throw baby out with the bath water just yet. 

**My husband would like me to remind those that struggle with being literal, that there is not a font for sarcasm or metaphors. We are happily married, I adore him - in fact I kinda wanna grab his ass right now. Just sayin. 

Yoga, Marriage And A Bit Of Insanity

Years ago, BK (before kids) I was a yoga girl.  I went 3-4 times a week to a local hot yoga studio and I put in my 90 minutes with a smile on my face.  I LOVED it!! Something about the hot humid air, the opportunity to run through 26 predicable postures, twice.  I knew what to expect, what was coming around the bend and I had a chance for redemption if I fell out of pose.  Every new day that I walked in I had an immediate measure for my own performance and my own growth based on where I was last time.  Also, my ass looked great! It was everything my 28 year old self wanted in a workout.  Then, their scheduled changed.  The new instructor who taught that time slot was a certifiable yoga bitch! She was rude! She was unfriendly.  She was brash. She was a pretentious yoga snob!

 She routinely called people out for breathing too loudly:

"Lady in the back corner, enough with the drama please! Quiet! You're upsetting the room!"

Haaaave you ever done 90 minutes of hot yoga? Um, that shit is hard! Like really hard! Like your heart is pumping, your body is shaking, your mind in closing in on you and you've only been there 8 minutes hard!

I'd watch, as people looked around the room to see who here was upset by loud breathing (no one) and then I'd shudder in embarrassment for the poor person who was just singled out.

She'd start class early and kick out the people who arrived exactly on time:

"Nope! Sorry! You're late, we've already begun and you need to wait for the next class"

Never mind that they just battled rush hour to get there and already PAID for the class (that had begun early) and still had open room for them.

She called people out for failure:

"Man in the back - if you fall out of tree pose one more time I'm going to ask you to relocate.  Stop the drama, you are a distraction to your neighbor"

No, no he wasn't.

There I was, in my wonky tree pose, trying to get my leg out 90 degrees (breathing really hard and probably loudly) and all I could think is: "I dare you! Say just one word and I'll fucking fight you! Namaste THIS you yoga c**t!" I'd have what I call my Ally McBeal moments, when instead of finding calm inner peace, I'd play out some dramatic confrontation in my mind as I struggled to remain balanced.

I stopped going to class.  I tried to find a new workout but nothing did it for me like hot yoga.  I missed it.  Then one day I had a moment of what seemed like obvious clarity; I realized that I was allowing her to have all the power.  She wasn't going to get fired. She wasn't going to magically become all warm and fuzzy.  She wasn't deeply saddened and remorseful that her rudeness offended me - and she wasn't going to change.  I did not have another studio nearby, so if I wanted to practice hot yoga - THIS was my choice and she WAS my option.  I could fight it, avoid it, OR I could shift my goals - a concept that has come up again, and again in my life since then.  

I could shift.  

That's exactly what I did - instead of trying to master my tree pose, I began to focus on mastering my thoughts.  I worked overtime while in her classroom to tune her out -  on quieting the "white noise" around me and really, truly, focusing on what I was doing  (maybe for the first time ever) and I had to do so without giving a single bother if she singled me out or not.

I spent another year and a half in her class - right up front.  That was 8 years ago.

I've thought of her, and the lesson I learned in her yoga room often since then.  Learning how to tune out the background noise, how to be still with my own thoughts and how to shift my goals or expectations when I'm up against a wall.  I thought of her after my divorce, when everyone had a opinion and a side to choose.  I thought of her when I found myself working for someone I detested and unable to respect.  I thought of her after my "layoff" and again when I found myself pregnant while unemployed and uninsured.  I think of this as I parent when I find there are days and stages I don't enjoy as much as I thought I might.  I remind myself of this when life throws me a curve ball and I am actively thinking of her now, in my marriage, as we both battle it out every damn day because even a great, healthy and committed marriage IS INCREDIBLY HARD YA'LL!!

Where can I bend? Are MY expectations getting in our way? What goal can I shift? Can I approach this from a new angle? When all else fails: How can I learn and grow from this?

I've decided the secret to a happy marriage (and maybe even life) is the understanding that it's fucking hard, and that's normal - so roll with it.

I remind myself every day, in some capacity, that I can fight it, avoid it or I can shift, lean into it and walk away with something positive.  I usually find the most happiness behind door number 3 and yet I continue to ALWAYS open the other two doors first.  Something, something, about the definition of insanity....

So, thank you yoga bitch.  I could not wiggle myself into camel pose for a million dollars anymore, but I (surprisingly) took away something far more valuable from your classroom, and I am grateful everyday for your irritating personality.  Namaste.

My Prayer For My Children

Autors note: The past cannot be changed.  This is not an examination or editorial on mental health but a love note of strength to anyone looking to rebuild. 


“I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out; and I thought how it is worse, perhaps, to be locked in.”

- Virgina Woolf

I'm a passionate person who feels very deeply and too many times in my life I've experienced unimaginable pain, loss, depression, anger and hurt. There are times I've let it get the best of me, and there are times I've gotten ahead of it.  I've fallen down the rabbit hole and I've stumbled into some dark and lonely corners of my brain that were better left undisturbed.  I've sought help and I'm an enormous advocate for intervention - whether that's medication, therapy or both.  

This week I watched a group of young adults attend a funeral for one of their own.  The pain rippling through our community is crippling.  One day my own children will be grown and they will face pain and loss of their own and I will have to explain things that I'm not even sure I myself understand. I look at those sweet little babies and I know that they too will have their hearts broken and their wills shattered.  They will face disappointment, anxiety and loneliness. They will learn that their lives are nothing but a culmination of their own choices and actions, and that choosing wisely is sometimes left to hindsight. They will face consequences and I will have to find a way to articulate that you just have to somehow, someway, keep going - always, no matter what.  

There are times in life when it is supposed to hurt like hell, when that pain is a natural sign that you are making changes, moving forward after loss, figuring out how to make your life go differently. Life will at some point deal you a hand that will forever shape the way you view the world.  We don’t choose this - it just happens and maybe you'll find comfort in knowing that it happens to everyone, that suffering is not a unique experience.  If you cheat the process by burying that pain, by pretending it didn't change you or by hiding in a distraction you will miss out on the opportunity to be the architect of your own new design. 

Suffering is a guaranteed part of life so prepare yourself my friend because it’s a mother-fucker. The world will be unfair and tragic and ineffable.  Life is messy, relationships are complicated and the human experience can feel exhausting.  But “the earth has its music for those who will listen.” I have screamed out in anger at God and I have felt the still hand of God on my shoulder when I've needed it the most.  If you allow it, if you are patient, life will also show you beauty. It will be kismet, full of goodness, generosity and wonder. You will find humor and kindness and grace. Love will always win.

Some people when faced with life’s tragedies become warriors.  They understand that “fair” is a child’s word and they take ownership of their own journey.  They are proactive in their desire to heal, to learn, and to move forward with a hope and a certainty that propels them though even the darkest times. They sift through the rubble and they rebuild. They find themselves again.  We cannot always see their scars but they’re there, and they are awarded with an inner strength and a wisdom that cannot be purchased, borrowed or stolen.  

You will not always get a choice in what is thrown your way, but for a short time you will get a choice in how you react.  You get to choose how you respond and in turn then how you let it shift you, and what you will take away from it. If you close your eyes and pretend it’s not there, you are no different than a child covering their eyes during a scary movie.  Not wanting to see it does not make it any less real – it’s happening whether you are ready to face it or not.

If you allow the darkness to rule, if you shut out possibility and love and feeling, if you stop fighting when life calls you to step up, you will eventually find that you’ve created a world ruled entirely by what you were running from; pain. There are no answers in darkness, it's just darkness, and it will fuck with your head.  

A word of advice: no one ever wins a battle alone, and to think that you can is naive.  There is no prize at the end of the road for having traveled it alone and there is no trophy for carrying the weight of the world along the way with you.  This does not make you noble or strong it makes you foolish. The strongest and wisest of people know how to ask for help, and when to offer it to others.  

I do not pray at night that my children will never feel pain.  I pray that I will be capable of teaching them how to cope, how to ask for help, how to offer help to others and how to reconcile events that have no answers, only infinite questions.  I pray that when life deals them their own shit deck that we will have given them the tools that they need to pick up and begin again. I pray that they never stop rebuilding. 

Enough with all this "safe" product talk!

Parenting can be such a drag sometimes.  All these damn rules and guidelines and "suggestions" it's enough to make me want to drop my kids off at some baby boarding school and pick them up when they are 18. 

"Don't smoke in a car with a baby!"

"Don't leave your kid in a hot car with the windows up!"

"Wear a helmet!"

"Use a carseat!"

"Feed them healthy foods!"

"Limit sugar!"

"Limit screen time!"

"Apply non toxic products!"

Well shit.  It's almost as if we are supposed to be learning from the parents who came before us and that we've been challenged to do it better.  Annoying. 

Why can't I roll around town, with my car windows up, clam baking my Malboros? I bet a cool beer would pair well with that - kids riding free in the back seat.  It would make it so much easier for them to eat the stale french fries off the floor of the car if they weren't restricted by that damn safety harness.  

Who has time for all this science and facts? Who cares that childhood cancer is up 20% since the 80's? It probably has nothing to do with our environment.  Who cares that Europe has banned 1400 chemicals that have been proven to cause long lasting and devastating health effects on our kids.  I think it's great the US has only banned 11 chemicals and hasn't revisited this legislation since 1938 - no one likes a party pooper! Take that Europe!  Science schmience.

We have learned so much about the devastating effects of second hand smoke.  Remember when doctors used to tell pregnant women to smoke to avoid weight gain.  Ahh, the good old days!  I made these babies so shouldn't I be allowed to blow that cloud into their small little faces?  Why should I have to evolve past the parenting standard of care of the 70's? What's a little second hand smoke? 

1 in 8 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer - this is up from the 1 in 20 that were diagnosed in the 60's but the number of women who carry a genetic link to breast cancer hasn't changed.  Research shows that women with breast cancer have a higher level of parabens in their breast tissue then those without breast cancer but didn't we already agree "f**k science." Parabens for EVERYONE! YOU GET A PARABEN, YOU GET A PARABEN - EVERYONE GETS A PARABEN!!! 

The rate of autism, allergies, ADHD and asthma is on a fast rise in our country and those pesky researchers keep saying that there's a strong likelihood that it's environmental. We are reassured OVER and OVER that's it's not the vaccines but I say NO VACCINES for my kids! Now, can someone please pick me up a Costco case of Johnson & Johnson baby powder?  I hear that shit is amazing! To all the researchers, I say take that degree, and fancy shmancy brain and go.  I hear there's a little mass of land across the pond that likes those negative studies, but NOT us!  

Science has PROVEN that there are 4 ingredients in most sunscreens that are health concerns, I say "who gives a shit!" I prefer to slather my kids in the cheapest, most toxic sunscreen possible because you know, I have to draw a line somewhere. 

40% MORE women ages 18-24 are having a harder time getting pregnant or maintaining a pregnancy then in 1982.  Eh, dumb luck! I'm sure there isn't any link to the chemicals that disrupt our hormones.  I'm so sure that all this science is bunk that I'm going to chance it with my daughter and her ovaries.  She'll thank me someday! I'm sure of it.   

I don't know about you but I'd rather use my parenting energy to focus on things like participation ribbons, Pinterest worthy birthday parties, making sure that I have the best photographer booked for her cake smash photo shoot (for birthdays 1-18) and tracking down the perfect mommy & me matching outfits.  All the best preschools have the loooongest wait list - how will I show how seriously I take this parenting thing If I can't get my kids into the "right" school.  This is exhausting!  I read an article on how kids shouldn't be made to share these days, it takes away from their ability to learn and identify with what's theirs.  Teaching my kids not to share doesn't leave me with enough time to focus on crap like nutritious foods, or bullshit like age appropriate carseats or harmful chemicals.  Don't even get me started on helmets!  

I'm a big fan of "you do you" and rarely (if ever) have given another mom parenting advice.  Who cares if you breast fed, or bottle fed or wore your baby or pulled her around in a homemade cart... just don't bother me with all this "health and safety data", and "facts", and "statistics".  Boring. 

If there's one thing that really burns me up, really gets me going, really ruffles my feathers it's learning from the past, evolving. Who has time for that - parenting is hard enough without trying to make all these educated decisions. 

On a serious note: I wrote this after reading an article circulating  FB today that poked fun of the moms who care about what sunscreen they use on their kids, because you know, all out of f**cks.  As a Beautycounter consultant I NEVER want to make someone feel like if they do not purchase from BC then they are all going to die! That's absurd.  What's not absurd, is the mission, passion and determination behind a company that is fighting for safe products.  There is science, and data, and facts to back up the idea that certain chemicals have NO business in our products! Is every chemical bad? No. Does that mean that you MUST run out and replace every thing in your home? No.  Does that mean you are a bad mom if you don't? No. Will I shame you if organic foods and clean products aren't on your list of things to care about? No. (But then don't shame me if those are on my list) Is Beautycounter the ONLY safe line of products? NO! But similarly to what we now know about smoking, or second hand smoke, or carseat safety or safe sleeping for babies - we are learning more and more about these chemicals, their effects and their undeniable outcomes.  If you're all out of fucks at the end of the day, that's fine.  You do you.  But as for me, I'll focus my attention on making the best possible choices for MY kids, with the information at hand, because science.  Now the participation trophies - those you can have back. 

I'm going dark. Kind of.

I keep reading articles that reinforce what I notice constantly - we are always on our f**cking phones! Always! I'm on my phone when I'm reading these articles.

I saw a group of high school girls awhile back at Starbucks, ALL of them were sitting at a table, heads down buried in their phones.  I watched them for maybe 10 minutes.  Occasionally one of them would look up, say something of little value to another one, and then they would dive back into their phones.  I was so sad.  It reminded me of a viral picture I saw on FB once.  After watching them for a bit,  I took to FB and updated about it - obviously.  Then 5 minutes later, I took a quick peek just to see if anyone commented.

In the off season when I am home with the kids, I love it! Mostly.  I didn't come hardwired for stay at home mom life, and I envy the moms that seem so at home in this gig.  I miss adult conversations.  I miss being able to sit still in my own thoughts.  I miss peeing in privacy.  Articles and FB are my two greatest guilty pleasures.  I get bored, I miss talking to people so I read a blog or check out my newsfeed.   By late winter of last year, my toddler was a good enough communicator at 2, that he was able to verbalize his irritation of my cell phone habit.

"Mommy! No phone. Put it down please."

When that didn't work, "hold on baby, mama's working...", he would just come over to me and swat it right out of my hands.  Then he laughed.

There's not one other object that he swats out of my hands, just my phone.

My smart phone is a beautiful little slice of heaven.  I can shop, Facebook, Instagram, browse Etsy, Pinterest, Smore,  check my email and I never have to be alone with my own thoughts, my hands are never left empty.  I get to keep in touch with anyone I have ever met, ever - but I tune out my own family and kids to do so.

I had to wait in line for coffee last week, sans phone.  I forgot it at home that morning and so there I was - in a long line - with nothing to do but wait.  And stare.  And wait.  I fidgeted like a crack head, totally uncomfortable with what to do with my hands.  And I didn't get a cell phone until after college, and I didn't have internet on my phone until my late 20's when I got a Blackberry for work.  I remember "before".  Once upon a time, I could just wait comfortably in a line, listen to my thoughts, let my mind wander, talk to a stranger, fucking cope in moments of boredom or transition without a constant need to feed my brain junk.  I use to write, not just read the thoughts of others.  This worries me for the toddler who already knows how to get to YouTube and navigates it like a pro! Let me be more specific, I worry for MY toddler.  My little YouTube junkie. I taught him that.

At camp I find myself daily telling parents not to pack cell phones, that we want the kids to spend the summer playing, getting dirty, making friends, socializing.   Then I notice how great my flowers are growing and so I quickly snap a photo and Instagram that shit.

So I am doing an experiment. I turned off the wi-fi on my phone.  I deleted all my apps. I had too, if I know they are there it's too easy to cheat.  I want to see what happens if this summer I pretend it's 2003 and I that still have my Sidekick.

Now I'm not making some bold, "I'm DONE WITH THE INTERNET" statement.  Let's not be absurd.  I appreciate the convince Facebook offers for staying in touch, I love watching my girlfriends kids grow up and well I work from home and it's my tool - but I want to go back to using the internet as an event.  As in, I have the time to go sit down at my desk top, in the basement, and check in.  I want to see what happens when I spend the rest of my day, tuned in and present.

Captains Log: Kristi goes dark.  Day 1

*Now I won't be able to sit and obsessively read this all day looking for and correcting all my typos - because you can't have it all, all at the same time.  I'm sure somewhere there is a spelling error of great proportions because: 1. I refuse to wear glasses and well glare and 2. Me.  Enjoy them. xoxo

Ever Ripped Your Skirt Open While Wearing 2 Pairs Of Spanx? I Have.

My Story - The Nutshell Version
(Originally posted 2014)

After the birth of my son, I left the hospital unable to stand upright (thanks to a C-Section,) 73 pounds heavier then my pre-pregnancy weight, and the most out of shape I've ever been in my entire life.  After I took time to heal I began to evaluate my options for weight loss and it seemed that the more out of shape I got, the more fear of the gym kept me from getting back into the gym.  Does this sound at all familiar?  Fear's a strong-armed beast like that.

Let's back up a year...

A few days before my 32nd birthday I joined a new gym.  While my clothes still fit, I was out of shape and I could feel it.  Walking up their stairs left me breathless. I noticed that I was waking up in the morning stiff with back pain, I wasn't sleeping well, my flexibility was gone, and my hips had started to occasionally pop.  Also, you know those sneaky bad habits that creep up on all of us when we stop making health a priority?  Well, my guilty pleasures were now taking over and the occasional indulgences had become the framework of my daily routines.

When I walked into Core Sport I was greeted by Jessica, and immediately developed a giant people crush!  Jess was maybe the most fit person I'd ever seen in real life! She was also kind, friendly, approachable and made me feel like she truly cared about my goals (and if I showed up for my new client consultation.)  Jess made me excited to be there: I knew I had walked through the right door.  I scheduled my first appointment for the following week and I went home feeling very proud of myself.  Then, life happened.

At 7 am the following morning the phone rang and just like that I was out of work. Two days later, my husband and I learned we were expecting our first child. Wham! Bam!

Spoiler alert: I didn't use one minute of that $99 trial.  My pregnancy was complicated from day one and Jessica kindly paused my account due to medical restrictions.  Just like that, Core Sport and I broke up before we even got to know each other.

Days before I learned I was having J. 

Flash forward 41 weeks and 3 days

The day I entered the hospital to have my son I weighed in a whopping 73 pounds heavier than the day I met Jessica. SEVENTY THREE POUNDS!  I had dealt with my complicated pregnancy, the subsequent worry, and nerve racking nights by comfort eating.  Before, I was a careful and mindful eater.  Now, there wasn't a nacho in town that I said no to, and don't even get me started on the peanut butter and fudge brownies (If they're gluten free can I eat three? No? What about if they're organic?) On December 19th, 2013 at 6:45 am my son was born via emergency C-Section.  He was a healthy 7 lbs, 13 oz and I thanked God because he was perfect.  I, on the other hand, was a mess!

It took until my 12 week check-up to be given the all clear to begin light exercises, which I really did try to do at home in between feedings, naps, diaper changes and the occasional shower. I was out of shape, uncomfortable in my own skin and exhausted, all while navigating this mommy thing.  Oh, and still unemployed.  Fitness was the last thing on my new "to-do" list.

My Love/Hate Relationship with Stretch Cotton

For the next 5 months I begrudgingly wore my maternity leggings and the same three large tee-shirts, the only clothing I owned that fit me.  The longer I lived in stretch cotton, the more my old closet began to look like a dream; a fantasy I'd never realize again.  I did attack my weight loss in the kitchen and was able to loose 55 pounds by April, but that last 18 would.not.budge. It was that last 18 pounds that stood between me and my jeans.  It was that last 18 pounds I was going to have to sweat off.  Changes needed to be made, but knowing what I needed to do and actually doing it, HARDEST part hands down!  It seemed like everywhere I went someone was validating for me that the sweat, the work, could wait until later - or even that it wasn't necessary at all.  That I could settle for my new shape.

on the climb up to my 70 lb weight gain

Well-meaning stranger: "How old is your son?"

Me: "6 months"

Stranger: "Ahhh, he's so cute.  You look great!"

Me: "Thank you! I still have about15 pounds to go until my pants fit, but I'm making headway"

Stranger: "Oh, Stop! You HAD a baby! You get a pass. You're a mommy now, you don't have time for the gym...."

Insert many variations of that last sentence, and I've heard it.  Stories of how after having a baby someone never lost that last 20 pounds, or how after the second baby they gained an additional 10.  How work, kids and responsibility shifts focus.  I was assured that working out was now a "nice-to-have" and no longer a "have-to-have."  I've heard the old adage, "Your body will never be the same, but that's okay - you had a baby."  I've been reminded that I wasn't 20 anymore (and may I say, Thank God for that.)

To  be clear, I know that my body changed; I'm okay with change. I may even have been happy with my new mom bod, if my closet had magically refilled itself with clothing that fit me.  But it didn't.  I also know as I progress through life that my body will continue to change; I am also okay, even understanding and on-board with that.  But the idea that this weight gain was some sort of runaway train outside of my control, that I would have to endure the rest of my life in ill fitting maternity clothes or that this "happened to me," THAT I was not okay with.  The excuse I heard the most though, is the one that struck the biggest nerve with me.  "I'd love to workout, but I'd rather spend time with my children.  I don't have the time to go to a gym."  This is the one that made me pause and question my own motives, wondering "was getting back into shape selfish?"  I wanted fitness and health to be something that Mark and I taught our son; something he witnessed first-hand within our home.  I wanted J to grow up feeling connected to, and proud of his body; but how do I teach him something that I myself don't make a priority?  My goal was not to become a fitness model, to have rock hard abs, or to prove how well I could bounce back.  I just wanted to feel healthy, to have my confidence back, to set a positive example for our son and to avoid giving away two closets full of perfectly good clothing.  I have some really cute clothes!  I began to realize that in the world's kind attempt to offer me new-mom support, I found nothing but more excuses and more reasons for why not.

Enter, body dysmorphia

By June, everyone who wasn't me began to look like a Greek God.  I had waist envy.  Almost everything that came out of my mouth had to do with my weight, or what I wanted to do about it starting tomorrow…  starting Monday…  I mean starting next month…  I really mean starting once I catch up on sleep.  Ever make the promise to start [FILL IN THE BLANK HERE]?  Yeah, me too.

For the first time in my life I genuinely hated getting ready in the morning.  Nothing in my closet fit properly and nothing I wore made me feel good about myself.  I started turning off the bedroom light and spent most of my days hiding in sweatpants and baggy tee-shirts.  I cut bangs people! I CUT BANGS.  I did this to distract from my body and shift focus away from my midsection.  I felt judged (which was really just me judging me) and I was plagued by fear and anxiety.  The further away from the gym I got, the scarier and the more intimidating my mind began to make it.  I was the only one standing in my way and was doing a top notch job of it.

Goofing around at 6 weeks pregnant

7 months postpartum 

By August, I realized I was procrastinating.  Nothing was going to change, if NOTHING actually changed, and all of the excuses delaying my 'return' needed to be identified - and DEALT WITH! 

My Excuses 

1. Money
We were still living on one income, so I had a budget.  That budget was small.

2. Accountability

I HATE gyms! I'm terrible at holding myself accountable; getting myself started alone was, well, lonely and unappealing.

3. Mommyhood

My schedule now revolved around my son and his schedule; all the while wrestling with the notion that maybe I was being selfish or indulgent.

4. Nothing Fit

This one I admit is a little shallow, but there it was everyday in my head.  I didn't have any workout clothing that fit. What I had was meant for my body less 20 pounds and most of my yoga pants suffered major seam damage as I climbed that 70-pound hill.  See excuse #1; new clothing wasn't an option.  I was diving into a sea of Lululemon in a pair of junky old torn up maternity leggings. Basically, I didn't feel cute and I needed to shift both my focus and my self-talk.

5. Time

Since becoming a parent I've never watched time melt away faster, nor have I been more aware of how I prioritized it.

6. Ego

This was a biggie. There was a time in the not-so-distant past that I was so in shape that I could do almost anything a trainer asked of me.  While these workouts were still hard, it's a lot more fun to workout when you feel strong and capable.  I felt weak, jiggly and insecure.  Again, I needed some positive self-talk and a kick in the pants! I needed to get over myself!

7. It was going to hurt

Maybe you are one of those people who like pain, but I don't.  I knew that it was going to hurt, not the sore muscles the day after, that I kind of like.  I was afraid of the mental pain and embarrassment that comes mid-workout when you can barely breathe and feel like the walls are collapsing in on you.  The pain you feel when you are out of breath and want to quit, and your mind starts to tell you all the reasons you should just run for the door.  You begin to rationalize and bargain with yourself "Stretch cotton isn't thaaaat bad, I could live in sweatpants - people do that"  or "I'll just start next week, next week will be better," and all you've done so far was the warm up!  That mental pain I knew I would have to break through, and it seemed exhausting.

These were my excuses.  I'm sure you have your own (everyone does) and I challenge you to acknowledge them, write them down, own up to them, and then make a plan for overcoming them.

So now what? 

A week ago I tore the seam on my skirt getting  into my car.  I can laugh now, but at the time I had on two pairs of spanx and could barely breathe; riiiiiiiip! I absolutely shredded that skirt.  I was not my best self in that moment and I was finally over it!  This was my rock bottom.  It was my moment where I knew, for me, no more excuses! No more fear (fake it till you make it, right?!?)   No more standing in my own way!

Somehow this experience feels like an equalizer. It doesn't matter who you are but fear is fear, doubt is doubt and anxiety is anxiety.  If I can come back from 41 weeks of lying around like veal, 10 months of avoiding the inevitable, a 73 pound weight gain, abdominal surgery, financial strains, sleep deprivation, negative self-talk and an all around feeling of being a fish-out-of-water, well, if I can bounce back from that, then you can bounce back from whatever it is that is keeping you from reaching your goals.  I haven't a single doubt about that.

Update: 2016

I learned I was pregnant with my daughter shortly after writing this post in 2014, and my focus shifted from losing weight to being healthy and mindful during my second pregnancy.  This time I gained north of 50 pounds, but in return I was given a healthy, beautiful little girl.

After a long adjustment period (holy shit is two kids a new ball game) I was able to carve out time for me, at home, while they napped.

It took a year, but my old jeans fit again!

My mom body will never look the same as it did before, the 'factory settings' have been modified but I feel healthy, strong, and I'm proud of the example I am setting for my children as far as body image is concerned.  It was never about a certain number on the scale, it was about getting back to a place where I felt my best self.  It took a lot of time, patience, kindness (talk to yourself like you would talk to a friend) and a sense of humor, but I did it!

Life with a 2 year old

Any moment after 5 am is fair game for wake up. We tip toe around like ninjas afraid to flush the toilet or turn on the shower. In fact I now shower once a week so that our prince is not disturbed.  Sure I miss a daily cleaning, but I try to focus on the positives like what an excellent form of birth control my shower habits have become.  Consider it.

Once the kids are awake, Mark and I like to have a cup of coffee in bed.  We force  kindly allow Jackson cartoon time.  In return, he generously allows us 7 minutes of  focus on his "toons" but typically demands a "toon" that isn't on TV at 5 am. We usually spend our 7 minutes frantically searching OnDemand, and when we fail to find it fast enough, he announces "All done!" This means he's ready to be fed and we've missed our window.

I am given between 2.5 and 3 minutes to get myself ready for the day. That's what's so great about toddlers, they keep it simple and really make you focus on the present and what's important; them.

After breakfast I typically take J to Jungle Java or Tiny Town so he can socialize. J loves both of these places because they have unlocked utility closets, multiple vacuums, unlocked managers offices and concession area he can access. I love paying only $8 bucks so my kid can play with a public toilet plunger, ours has to be so boring to him by now.

My sweet prince will announce at any point between 10 am and 3 pm that he is ready for his nap. He notifies me that he's ready by being a complete and total asshole without warning. I really celebrate how he expresses his needs so openly. He really seems to know himself already.
If we are not within 5 minutes of his bed, my boy reinforces this parenting fail by refusing to nap altogether and spends the duration of the day holding me hostage with his toddler rage.
I see this as a great growth opportunity for my own personal development, clearly I should have planned better and moved faster.  HIGH KNEES MOM! HIGH KNEES!

Typically after a successful nap we are able to spend the afternoon focused on "enrichment play". As a stay at home mom I really see this as my opportunity to shine.  I use a variety of items to engage all of his senses. Today for example he used the dogs water dish to paint on the wall. He's so creative! Yesterday he dropped all the dog food down the vent. I'm pretty sure he was counting. 

I also like to use our afternoon time for some quick learning activities. He's such a fast learner! After hearing "OH HELL NO" said just once, he was able use it perfectly for the rest of the day. Yesterday when I was correcting his behavior he was able to use an entire sentence to tell me "mom, get off my ass!"  It borders on genius.  He's just adorable.

Jackson really values personal hygiene so at any point during our day he may stop me and demand a bath or to have his teeth brushed. If the mood strikes him to take a bath or brush his teeth say while I'm at Target, he laments loudly letting me know I have not only failed him, I have brought shame upon our entire family. 

By around four o'clock he is ready to relax, usually in the baby bath tub. There he enjoys his snack of whatever he pulls out of the fridge (or trash - because he's a problem solver!), like hot sauce and fruit. He selects the movie. We watched Curious George today for the 87th day in a row.

His energy really kicks in by dinner, which he is now arriving to pants free. Clothing really has a way of hiding your true self. While Mark or I prepare him his well balanced dinner he often revisits the dog bowl or the garbage for a quick snack to tide him over. Waiting for Mac n' cheese takes an eternity.

Before bed we like to unwind with more learning play, we use YouTube to help us with this.  A lesser parent may use this time to zone out, Facebook or drink wine - I feel it's important for J to learn how to multi-task so I usually do all three.  Last night he selected a 20 minute YouTube video on "how to properly use and clean your Kitchen Aid stand mixer. We watched the full 20 minutes, seeing bread rise on YouTube is quite something.

After being tucked in no less then 12 times, fetching items he NEEDS that he hasn't seen or used in months and reading 15-20 stories he drifts off peacefully for the next 4-6 hours.

I think it's awesome that he loves me so much that he wakes me up at 3 am to have me cover his feet back up. ❤️😬

Hi, Welcome.

Here I go again - the blog.

Over the past few years this has been the one compliment I have heard the most, "you should write a blog." I would be lying if I didn't say that I love hearing it.  I get all excited... and then I start to think about the reality...

What will it be about? - No clue

Can I actually write without using the word fuck? - Probably not.  I love the words, all of them.

Will people actually read it? - I can't go there...I just have to write

What about all my grammatical errors? -  If you need perfection I'm not your girl. Not!Even!Close to your girl. If you want someone to drink with, share some laughs, marvel at the craziness of life and use some colorful compound words with, then come on in!

This won't be a mommy blog.  What the hell do I know about raising kids - I make it up as I go. My parenting philosophy is pretty much, "no one likes an asshole."  But you will get plenty of anecdotes and funny stories about these two little joys and the hell they raise.

This won't be a travel blog.  Because kids. Fucking kids. Look for my travel blog in about 30 years. But I can make one hell of an adventure out of a liquor store run and you may get to hear about that.

This won't be a lifestyle blog.  Unless you want to see pictures of my hillbilly feet, or our eclectic home decor style don't look here for advice on setting a perfect dining table or cooking a beautiful feast. I eat standing up, with one hand, in less then 40 seconds.  It's basically woman vs. food.

I know a little about a lot.  I have grand pintrest fails and I tend to assume "I could do that" waaay more often than I actually CAN do that.

This won't be a paleo, fitness or dedicated clean living blog. Because cheese, wine, sitting and smoking.

*The older I get the better I strive for my choices,  but at the end of the day, I'm still just lil ole me.

This will not be a blog where I will pass along wisdom. I've been married twice, my credit score is like a 9, it's 2016 and I still can't quit smoking and to quote Jack Kerouac, I love the company of the mad ones.  But I'm pretty sure I can make you laugh as I stumble down my path. At the very least you may find after reading this that your shit is far more together then you thought.  You're welcome! xoxo

So if you're interested and want to come along for the ride and find out what the hell this blog is about, tune in and we'll figure that out together.

So it's a blog about nothing, or everything.  How's that for a hook?