meditations of a blueberry

It's not about the weight. This journey that I am on isn't about the pounds or inches that I will inevitably lose as I eat healthier and train to run 21 kilometers . It's really not. But, I can't help but get giddy as I see my body shrinking and the number on the scale going down. I can't help but feel excited when clothes that haven't fit since before I was pregnant with E fit again. I can't help but smile when I look into the mirror and see less of the belly that stretched beyond its capacity to carry a ten pound baby. But, it's not about the weight. What is this journey about then? Well, it's about the changes I'm FEELING rather than seeing. It's how just six short weeks ago, I couldn't even run for three minutes straight without feeling like I couldn't breathe, yet today, I ran for almost an hour (eight minutes running/one minute walking) and could have gone longer. It's about how carrying both boys (55 pounds!) out to

As I'm sure everyone knows, recently there was another shooting in a school. This time, it was in an elementary school. Sandy Hook elementary school in Connecticut. Twenty children and six adults lost their lives. I can't even begin to imagine sending my child to school, a place that is supposed to be a safe place, and not having him come home. I just don't understand it. I can't understand it. I'm not sure I will ever understand it. All those lives that were yet to be lived. All those firsts that never got to be--first kisses, first dances, first time driving a car, first jobs, first loves, graduations, weddings, babies, grandbabies. Children and parents. All gone. All because some guy got his hands on some guns and took out his frustrations on some innocent people. Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children. No parent should know the grief of burying a child. Not one. And now there are twenty six more sets (for the children were not the only ones with

The first step is the hardest. I've heard that said before, but I have never fully realized how true it is until today. This week has been hard to motivate myself to go run. On Saturday, I missed the group training session because A was completely inconsolable all day (seriously, ALL day). So, I ran on Sunday instead. On Wednesday, mother nature decided to kick me hard in the uterus. By the evening, I could barely move I was in so much pain. That continued on Thursday so when it was time to get up for my run, I turned my alarm off and went back to sleep. All day Thursday, I felt icky and like I was "cheating." So, last night I decided I would make up for it today. I would get up and go for my run in the morning, and then do my yoga in the afternoon. When I went to bed much too late, I was still determined. My alarm went off at 5:45 am and I just wanted to go back to sleep. But, my alarm was across the room so up I got to turn it off and just continued on out the room. G

The streetlight shines in through the window blinds as Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" begins playing on my alarm. What a perfect song to describe this process of marathon training . I let it play for a few seconds longer as I allow myself to slowly wake up. Asha, on the other hand, is up immediately and staring at me beside the bed, waiting to go. The warm baby beside me deep in sleep snuggles in closer and I take one more minute to breathe in his peacefulness. Then, I slowly slip out of bed and quietly sneak out of the room with Asha excitedly following behind me. Checking the weather to see how many layers I need on, I begin to get dressed and eat a banana. I've learned that I need to eat something small before heading out. After layering up, I slip on my shoes, tie them on, grab the dog's leash, and head on out.   It snowed last night, and something about making those first tracks in the snow is magical. It's so cold out that the streetlights in the

http://www.runfergus.com/2011/11/dressing-for-winter-running.html My journey has started. I have officially been training for my half-marathon for one week. I plan to blog every week or two about my journey. I'm anticipating it being an emotional, and a physical journey. I can not run well, but I will be a runner. Last Saturday, we had our training kick-off. We got to meet our trainers, mentors, and other team mates. We got our training schedule, and I must admit that I may have had a mini heart attack when I read it. Yikes. I'm not sure if I have ever exercised as much as I will be in the next few months--not even in high school during basketball or track season.  I must admit that I am a little scared. My body is not the shape nor size of a runner's body. But I can do this. I WILL do this. I'm determined. For my boys, and for myself.  After meeting everyone, we went for a group run. It was only 30 minutes, but it was hard. I was slow. I felt so completely out

http://theydonttellyou.wordpress.com/2012/04/12/there-are-only-two-days-in-every-week/ There is a secret about motherhood that nobody really talks about. Sure, moms will talk about it with each other. You'll hear them whispering about it in the corners of Starbucks when they manage to get out for a coffee date without any kids. You'll hear them talking a little more loudly about it as kids run around their legs at the local playground. You'll see new moms on message boards wondering if they are alone in dealing with it. You may even see hints of it when you look into their eyes. It's a dark secret that a new mom will try to deny for months and months. It's a secret that will make her cry, yell, and feel awful. It's a secret that will make her wonder if something is wrong with her, or if it's her kids. It's a secret that shouldn't be kept. Moms-to-be should know this secret. They should be prepared so that when it happens, they aren't hit with

Every day is a new day. When I was teaching Grade 4, I used to tell students this when they had a hard day. At the end of the day, I would remind them, "Tomorrow will be better. Every day is a new day." And, inevitably, it was. Sometimes, I wish I had someone to pull me aside and remind me of this. This parenting journey can just be SO HARD some days. Some days, as I'm doing the bouncy "please be quiet before mama goes insane" walk down the hallway, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I am afraid. Who is that wide-eyed, crazy haired woman? When did those dark circles get so dark? When did that body get so saggy? And this is the time that I start to wonder about my life choices. Why did I ever think I could do this "mom thing" anyway? This is the time when I need someone to remind me that every day is a new day. That tomorrow, I will wake up and my kids will smile, or reach for my face, or give me a big hug and the craziness of the day before

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poppy The snow is softly falling outside my window, adding to the snow already blanketing my deck. A is asleep in his bassinet. Mrblueberry just went into E's room to comfort him, and I know that if I were to open the door and look in, I would see them snuggled up in his bed. My house is quiet except for the "Acoustic Bedtime" song list on Songza. It's late, and I should really be in bed. But I just can't tear myself away from the rare tranquil moment. I find myself lost in thought. Earlier tonight, I was looking at pictures of my boys while Mrblueberry was putting E to bed. As I heard him reading a "digger" book to E, I couldn't help but think about how lucky we are. We have so many freedoms and opportunities that just don't exist in other places. I am so grateful that those men and women laid down their lives. I am so grateful for those families who paid (and continue to pay) the ultimate sacrifice for my family

Do you ever feel like you're faking it? No, not IT, get your mind out of the gutter! I mean in general! Life. Do you ever feel like you're faking life? That one day everyone around you is going to wake up and realize who the real you is? That they won't like that real you? That everyone around you will realize that you have no clue what you are doing? I feel like this so often. There have been so many times when I have been with friends and wondered if they truly liked me, if they are just keeping me around to laugh at me when I am not there. It's the worst form of anxiety and self-doubt. And as soon as I have these thoughts, I usually dismiss them because I know that it just isn't true. But it doesn't stop them from coming back. Truthfully, I hate it. I hate feeling this way. I hate driving somewhere to meet up with friends, and having that brief feeling that they only invited me to "be nice." I am pretty sure that this all comes from high school and

My inspiration. I have boys. But that doesn't mean I don't need to worry about them having a healthy body image. I need to be a good role model for them. I need to show them that a woman does not need to be a size 6 in order to be beautiful. To do that, I can't be obsessed about my weight. I can't let them see me worrying about the extra bulges under my clothes or that I can't fit into those pre-wedding jeans. I can't let them hear me complain about the jiggly belly or stretch marks that pregnancy has left me with. I need to embrace my body so that they can one day embrace their wife's postpartum body. I need to remember that this jiggly belly produced two beautiful boys, and that one of them was over 10 pounds. I need to remember that though my breasts aren't as perky as they once were, they are making enough milk for a 19 pound three month old, and a two year old, with enough "left over" to donate to another baby! Over the 27 months I hav

Thankful. It's a word that we often throw around without really thinking about what it means. We say "Thank you" and are annoyed when someone else doesn't observe this societal nicety. We teach our children to say "thank you" but do we teach them what it means? Do they truly understand what it means to be thankful for something? Do we understand? I find myself thinking tonight about thankfulness. It's only right, being Thanksgiving weekend. Tonight, my house is quiet. The baby is sleeping and mrblueberry took E to the hockey game. And so, I am alone in my thoughts about thankfulness. It seems to happen every year around this time . What am I truly thankful for this year? I'm thankful for the roof over my head, the furnace I can turn on, food in my fridge, and the lights that light my home. I'm thankful for ability to stay home with my boys, to not have to return to work. It's hard, but we make it work, and I am thankful that we are able to

I have never been so grateful for my vision as I am today. This past week has been a less-than-fun one. In fact, it was down-right scary. Have you ever had someone tell you that you could lose a body part or the ability to use a body part, and actually mean it? I did this week. Let me tell you, it is not nice to hear. Last weekend, I woke up feeling like I had something stuck in my eye. No amount of rinsing with saline or breast milk (which is incredibly soothing, by the way) helped to get it out. I made the wise decision to not put my contacts in and wore my glasses. By the evening, my eye felt even worse. I went to bed hoping that all I needed was sleep and whatever was in my eye would work its way out. I was skeptical though since I had had something similar happen only a month ago. When I woke up in the morning, it was definitely not better. My eye was incredibly light sensitive. Even with all of the lights off, I was in a lot of pain. I decided that I needed to go to the doctor,

I have been breastfeeding for a grand total of 27 months and 2 days. You would think I would have figured it out by now. But no. I am still learning. A and E are complete opposites, and it throws me for a loop every, single day. When E was a baby, he wanted to nurse all the time. He was a major comfort nurser. If something was wrong, all I had to do was nurse him and he would be happy again. He would still comfort nurse to this day if I let him. Truthfully, I think that is why he didn't wean in pregnancy. Nursing isn't so much about the milk for him, as it is the comfort. On the other hand, A is NOT a comfort nurser. He nurses when he's hungry, and that's about it. If he's upset, he does NOT want to nurse. And if he's also hungry, I need to calm him first before trying to nurse him. If I don't, it just pisses him off more. It has been VERY hard to get used to. I still find myself trying to nurse him when he's upset even though I know it won't work. H

Taken from www.myorganizedlifestyle.com/2011/01/are-you-under-water.html I need to make a doctor's appointment for E. And I am putting it off. Back in June, E got his finger caught in the screen door. It cut his finger, and now his nail is not growing properly and I can't seem to get rid of the infection. I showed it to the doctor at his two year check-up, but she said to continue doing what I was doing and if it didn't get better to bring him back. Well, that was almost two months ago now. But I hate making doctor's appointments, so I haven't done it. Why haven't I done it? Because it can only go one of two ways: I surprisingly find the cordless phone on the charger, and it is charged. E tries to take the phone from me. I call the office. E is pushing buttons as I am trying to keep the phone from him. Receptionist answers, and puts me on hold while I try to dodge and distract E from the phone. I wait. E is thankfully distracted by his toys, but A decide

I made a mistake. When I was at my mom's house in BC, I stepped on the scale. I haven't weighed myself since 18 weeks pregnant. Yes, you read that right. How did I get through my whole pregnancy only weighing myself twice? Midwifery care. And I didn't want to focus on the number on the scale. Truthfully, it was fabulous. I enjoyed not focusing on it and not freaking out about how much I was (or wasn't) gaining. But I did not weigh myself at the end, so I have NO idea how much I gained. So stepping on the scale and seeing a number 25 pounds above my pre-pregnancy weight was kind of scary. I guess I had hoped I hadn't gained too much this time. With E, I gained 52 pounds in total, at 8 weeks postpartum I was down 25 pounds, and it took me 16 months to lose the rest. I would really like to be back to my pre-pregnancy weight (or better...my wedding weight! One can dream right?) by next spring at the latest. I have always struggled with body image and weight. From the

Sometimes, I wake up and just thank God for the things that I have in my life. I have done that a few more times than usual in the past couple of months. This summer, many people have been touched by tragedy and near tragedy in my life. Mrblueberry's grandmother had a stroke and passed away. My good friends were in a scary car accident, and besides some bruises and concussion, were thankfully okay. Those same friends had their grandmother pass away this past week. My sister told me about a friend of hers who was just diagnosed with a brain tumor and she only recently had a baby. Another friend of mine's good friend had her best friend (who was a mother of two) lose a sudden fight with cancer. I sit here looking out my window at my husband dancing with my ten week old and two year old, and don't know what I would do if I lost one of them. I think about my sister, my best friend, any of my family or other close friends, and don't know what my life would be like withou

My baby boy is two months old today. Wow. Time sure flies. It seems like yesterday that he came into our lives, and yet, it feels like he has been here forever. Life sure is busy with both boys, and I wouldn't have it any other way. In A's short two months, he has already done so much! He's been to one bridal shower, one bachelorette party, three weddings, gone on three different six hour road trips, been to the Calgary zoo, gone camping, and so much more. I have loved having mrblueberry home for the summer to share in all these experiences too. I just love seeing him play with E and interact with A.  Transitioning into a family of four has been interesting. And I don't mean interesting in a bad way. So far, everything has been going fairly smoothly, even with all the traveling we did in July. Truthfully, I have no complaints at all. E has done well with it. He loves his little brother and hasn't shown any jealousy yet. A (so far) is a much better sleeper