Super Inspired Writer

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Saturday, May 25

Walk this Way

Recently, with the onset of the good weather (not counting this weekend because it’s goddamned cold and it’s Memorial Day Weekend) I have really gotten back on my walking track. It has always been my favorite exercise and is how I have been able to lose weight in the past, but unfortunately, as life gets in the way, I start to skip my walks and it’s so frickin hard to get back into it. Because I am significantly lighter now, and breathing so much better, and feeling more comfortable in my cute hoodies, I really look forward to my walks each day. Even this morning, a cold and crisp 50 degrees, I couldn’t wait to hit the pavement with my pink ear buds blazing from my iPod.

The best part about my walk I have come to find out is not the calorie exchange I get to input into, but rather it’s the therapeutic THINKING I get to do. When I’m walking I am thinking about all kinds of shit, from my best memories, to my most haunting ones, from the wonderful things I look forward to in the future, to the things that scare me the most. And with each thought I am processing, and growing, and learning about what sets me off and what inspires me. I am putting things to rest and opening possibilities.

This particular morning, besides the chill in the air and the gloomy overshadows, while good ‘ol Brittany Spears kept my pace, I was thinking about falling in love. A very close friend of mine at work just recently fell in love after a period of some major drama, and as the stories begin to unfold from the new relationship, hearing about their first kiss, the long endless nights of talking until the wee hours of the morning, I am reminded of my own great love and how much of me wishes I could go back in time just once more to relive it all again.  Don’t get me wrong, after 15 years with my baby my love story is still a best-selling novel, but there is something about remembering that FIRST kiss, and the FIRST moment that you realize you love someone that still takes my breath away. Simply put, when the psych that I had to see to get the band asked me about my relationship with my spouse my answer came out as easy as spreading butter on warm bread…. “my marriage is the best part of my life.”

I remember the exact moment I knew I loved Brad. It was a few short months after we started dating and although he claims triumphantly he already knew I was the one, I was blissful but unsure. As two young college sweethearts, 19 and 20, our dorm buildings were next to each other with a long corridor connecting the two. He shared a room with a very cute swimmer, and I shared a room with a crazy Ginger who always knew how to make me laugh at any given time. Early one morning, the fire drill went off in my building and sluggishly we all made the trek downstairs and out to the parking circle. Problem was as we came to find out it was raining outside (which coincidentally always seems to happen during early morning fire alarms). When I got outside, what I saw made my heart stop beating in my chest, it was new boyfriend Brad out there with a huge golf umbrella! He had heard the alarm from his window across the circle and hurried outside to shield me from the rain. All I could muster was a weak, “what are you doing here?!?” but that my friends was the EXACT moment that I knew I loved this man. That was the PRECISE moment in time that I knew he would always be there for me, and from that very day I grabbed hold and will continue to hold on for dear life.

The moral of my story (I’m pretending to have one) is that love is wonderful, and [some] memories are wonderful, and that it will always rain so remember to bring an umbrella, and that walking is the best FREE therapy that exists.

Sunday, May 12

May Day Milestones

So much has been going on during this busy month that I don’t know where to begin. My job is finally starting to wind down and with only 15 more days of student attendance, summer is just around the corner. I only wish that the weather would cooperate because it was a pretty cold and crappy, rainy week. Even so I continue to have more and more milestones since my surgery and more and more reasons to be glad that I went through with it.

Saturday was my son’s First Communion. I had prepared for every moment of that day from the cake to our outfits, wanting everything to look perfectly. I had found a black, one-shoulder dress a few months back on a clearance rack that I figured would fit by this day and was pulling it over my head this weekend when I was struck by horror. The dress was WAY too big. I am not used to this yet. I am not used to buying something off the rack and saving it for a few months down the road and then it not fitting. Okay, I take that back, I AM used to things not fitting after a few months but NOT used to them being to big!! Luckily, as I have posted before, I have clothing in the next few sizes down so going through my downright immoral amount of black dresses I found one that would work. I poofed my hair with a bump-it hidden inside and fastened my “Madonna and Child” gold chain round my neck. The look was totally Guido, but hey, this was my son’s communion so it was also totally appropriate.

Say what you will about Catholicism, and I can’t promise I won’t agree with you on a few of your views and judgments, but regardless a child’s Fist Holy Communion is one of the most important events in an Italian Mama’s life. My son was dressed in a dapper white jacket and pin-striped pants, monogrammed tie, and black rosary in his pocket. As a family, we presented him to the holy table and he partook in a sacrificial ritual that is centuries old. I had goosebumps and tears in my eyes as the priest presented him with the host, hoping he would remember his response as we had rehearsed it so many times, “Amen.” And then he took his first sip of wine (which I’m not gonna lie he was a little too excited about for a 7 year-old) and responded by proceeding to make a gagging face and cover his mouth with his hand. Mortified!! I grabbed him by the ear and whispered threateningly, “that was Jesus!” and soon after we were back in the pew singing and clapping along with the modern bilingual liturgy. I wished I had brought my tambourine. It was a BEAUTIFUL DAY.
And as if that wasn’t excitement enough, I awoke today to a post-it note scavenger hunt around my house for Mother’s Day. My kids surprised me with construction paper cards, coupons for good deeds, and hand-printed poems. My husband “surprised” me with a wonderful gift that I picked out myself at Meijer two nights before.  But the real surprise was how relaxed I was going to the GINORM Italian buffet at the neighborhood banquet hall. Before my surgery, even though I was committed to having to make some major changes, I still had major anxiety about these sort of situations. I wasn’t sure how I would be able to navigate the times where the food was endless and plentiful (and delicious!!). I was worried that I would feel deprived or embarrassed, or even regretful. Instead I am finding time and time again that I am only reminded that it is only FOOD for Christ’s sake. I am with my family, and I am laughing, and I feel good in my outfit, and I can goddamned breath properly, and one reasonable plate of food is really quite enough, and I am not hungry, or deprived, and I sure as shit am NOT regretful. I am reassured over and over again that it’s going to be and is okay to have to eat less. I already see the changes in myself in how I am able to be a better and healthier Mother to my children and that has been the best Mother’s Day Gift of all =)

Monday, May 6

On Course

Okay, okay, it’s been a while. But I’m still here, and I’m still moving along. I may not have written in two weeks, but that’s because I haven’t really been thinking or acting, I have just been being, going through motions like a robot, pick up from A drop off at B.  And that’s okay too sometimes. It’s a busy time of year at school with the countdown reading 20 days left. Kids are full swing in their extra-curriculars and my son is about to accept the body of Christ next weekend, which is a big ass deal for an Italian immigrant family. Instead of blogging I have been iPading, searching for good recipes, looking up caloric amounts, and humoring myself with three hours of bowling burning over 900 calories. And through all that Mother Nature seems to be off her meds, but the good news is that I have been able to get a walk in around three times a week. And hear me, me and my kids did YOGA on the iPad. Yep, I knew that thing would be a goddamned goldmine.

And as the train keeps chugging, just as I had all my “lasts” before my band, I am now experiencing all my “firsts” since my band. This weekend was the big family wedding I blogged about last fall. I had a lot of anxiety up until this point because I didn’t know what to expect, and I am a planner. I am a carve it in stone and look at it from every angle kind of girl. When I found out that me and my daughter would be in this wedding the unknown of who I would be when the big day came was an inconvenient mystery. I ordered my bridesmaid dress in my before size, thinking that it would be much easier to take it in than for it to be too small. I was right. And get taken in it did.

Let me be clear, the wedding wasn’t about me. It was about my beautiful cousin and her new husband. I have already been the bride, the center of attention, the lady in white, and when it was my day I was radiant. This time I was the bridesmaid, under a different kind of scrutiny, not wanting to be the fattest one in the lineup in my satin gown. I was also incidentally the oldest one and who wants to be the matronly-let-herself-go one? So what did I do but stay on course, did what I was supposed to do, ate how much I was supposed to eat, and low and behold…… worked. (crazy idea, right?) And I felt healthy and alive, despite still having so many more pounds to loose.

As I write this I have only seen the 39 lbs lost mark for two weeks, which technically was only 37 for a week because of all the alcohol and experience I consumed.  But I know that tomorrow will be EPIC. I know this because I am a scale whore and I weigh myself at minimum two times a day. Because of this routine I have calculated the approximate 2.7 pounds that I lose while sleeping each night. Therefore, according to these specific calculations, tomorrow (unless I sleepwalk myself to the fridge and eat a jar of mayonnaise, which by the way I do not take Ambien so I am feeling pretty damn confident about this) I will be able to enter a new weight into MyFitnessPal and it will say 40. What? What?…..40!! That’s more than my Kindergartener weighs!

And after I weigh-in tomorrow, I will enter the numbers online, I will count calories and make sure I have measurable amounts of food that work with my band, I will stand tall, and walk, and give hugs, and breath, and one more day will be.