Project Backtalk

I’ve been having to talk myself down the past several days. Our bodies makeup is quite astounding. Even when we think we are managing, our bodies are fairly adept at communicating otherwise. Chemically our bodies are intuitive and our brains communicate to the rest of our bodies in a way that should eventually get our attention. Ie tight muscles anyone? Ground down teeth?

Anxiety isn’t top of my list of what ails me. Being overwhelmed would be a better descriptor of what some days feel like. There are a lot of moving parts to this crazy life of ours. And I have fairly high expectations of myself. I am perpetually having to ease off the gas in my life to allow for reality to set in.

How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. How does this busy and exhausted mama manage all of the things? Quite frankly, she doesn’t. She prioritizes and continues to adjust her expectations on the daily.

That mean girl, that cheeky, rude ‘devil on my shoulder’ keeps telling me I am not enough. That I do not do enough. That I should be able to do it all. Today, I choose to talk back to that internal voice and say ‘ENOUGH!’ Whatever I accomplish today, it is enough. I will speak kindness to myself and others. End of story.

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to YOU oh LORD my GOD. The rest will take care of itself.

Project Mean Girl … again

I. Am. A. Mean. Girl. I have absolutely no patience with myself and my limitations. I expect the world (of myself) and find myself lacking …often. Talk about the perfect recipe for a personal crisis.

I have a newborn baby. I am not 20 anymore… in fact I am closer to 50. Whaaaat???! I was tired with my newborns in my 20s. Why should I expect any different of myself now? I also have a 1 year old whose primary objective is to destroy the house on the daily. And a 4 year old whose very essence reeks of independence and sass. I have good reason to feel a bit tired.

Add to these variables that we are reeling from the recent knowledge that the baby girl we raised from 3 days old to 14 mos old passed away under tragic circumstances while no longer in our care. And we are in a daily fight to try and bring her brother back home to us. This is all exhausting. This mama is weary. This is a time for Grace if ever there was one.

So what does self care look like right now? My self care allows for tears. It allows for more Starbucks iced coffees than it should. It allows for gentle movement. It allows for showing up just as I am and having that be good enough.

My self care also says ‘yes.’ It says ‘yes’ to meals being provided and ‘yes’ to gifts of cards and flowers and meal delivery services. It says ‘yes’ to people who offer support through prayer or other intangibles.

My top 5 K.I.S.S. Plan (keep it simple sweetie/stupid) for now is:

Be kind! Move my body when I can however I can.

Be kind! Sleep or snooze or at least rest whenever I can.

Be kind! Be present in the moment because these sweet ones grow all too quickly.

Be joyful. Whatever that looks like… it could be dancing or singing along to a favourite song or being silly with the kids.

Just be. Whatever I feel… (and those feelings are coming fast and furious )… just allow them. Tears are healing balm to my broken heart. Accept that some days are easier and some days are harder. Just be. And breathe.

Project Flamenco

I have discovered a magic pill… flamenco dancing. Well, the Zumba version because I am pretty sure I am not coordinated enough for the real deal.

Lots has been happening in our foster home over the past couple of weeks. There has been devastating grief as the very real possibility of our two littlest babies reuniting with their mama has become apparent. As much as that is the goal of fostering, we love each child in our home as if they are ours so of course it hurts… a lot.

And so, what is a girl to do? I dance. I hold those babies tight and shake what my mama gave me.

I am no scientist but chemically speaking, dopamine is released during exercise. My mental acuity improves as my brain signals my body to move at a certain pace with specific moves. As I learn to move, I am also learning to instruct which means that my brain and body are working even harder still. All of which distracts me from a broken heart.

I need all the help I can get otherwise I am very sad. The last thing a girl with depression needs is something to push her equilibrium over in the wrong direction. I guess you could call this self medicating?

So, flamenco I shall.

Project Richard Simmons

If I were to choose a word to describe how I feel about Richard Simmons and his legacy of ‘Sweating to the oldies’, I would have to choose the word ‘DELIGHT.’

I have literally had complaints from my downstairs neighbours back in the day for enjoying my Richard Simmons a tad too much. (In retrospect, I didn’t think that one through. I feel I am a more respectful neighbour now.)

We are in another month of code red restrictions in our province. For those with depression, anxiety or any combination of the two.. covid is hard! Chemically speaking, on top of the medication I take, I try and do things physically that increase the happy hormones in my body. I think we all could use a good dose of happy about now.

So, break out your sweat band! Get outside! Get a puppy? (Nope. Scrap that, watch puppy videos.) Learn something! Hug your kids! Eat well! Take your vitamins and think yourself happy and grateful. There is light at the end of all this!

In the meantime, do not tire of doing good.

And now, let’s watch some Richard Simmons! So good!

Project Cartwheel

Once upon a time, I could do cartwheels. The. End. (Ha! If only…)

It is pretty amazing that tiny, incremental steps towards a goal open up infinitesimal possibilities (referring to all of my covid19 induced fitness certifications and licenses—- I am working on my 4th now.)

As I am sure you know, our phones and devices spy on us. Lately, in my social media feed, ads for a pathway to handstands keeps popping up. Surely learning how to do a handstand is the next obvious step in my journey… yes??!??

I am learning more and more that I want the things I do (particularly in the realm of fitness) to be more about function than say becoming a… ??! Fitness guru? Model? Know it all??!

So please, if you hear me saying I am working on my handstands, know that it is only so I can keep myself from falling on my head should such an occasion arise. I am nothing if not Practical.

This message is brought to you by your local ‘Ninjas are us’.

Project Volkswagen

I learned to drive before the age of 10. I only almost drove into a fence a couple of times. (I didn’t say I learned to drive well…) Some things are meant to be done just to do it.

I have been undertaking a few little side projects as of late. Keeping in touch with the part of me that isn’t child rearing related is part of my plan for staying sane.

If I waited for perfect circumstances I would never do anything.

I remember attending a training for my direct sale business where they talked about the ‘Din din club.’ Do it now. Do it now! DO IT NOW!

Don’t wait until you have the perfect body, the perfect life, the ideal circumstances. Determine your course (prayerfully I hope) and DO IT!!!

In other news, I accidentally bought hammerpants. Enjoy

Project Gird your loins

You know that squishy part on our bodies where we all store those extra cookies?? That is the place that has been under attack.

The quiet voice whispering lies to you about your worth, your value…?? Can anyone relate? The voice that fills you with doubt and fear about the future? The worry about how to make ends meet? The grief that accompanies a suspension of in person visit with loved ones? The list could go on.

I could write a dissertation on all my personal squishy parts that are oh so tender… but instead I am just going to shine a light on it. By shining a light on it, we can all do battle just a bit better.

Today this song is on repeat. Love. Freedom. Truth. Truth on repeat. Praying for you to find light today.

Project 404

Nothing feels more incomplete than a computer screen that reads ‘error 404.’ (And I NEVER exaggerate…)

I am pretty sure all of us (even as the world is kind of re-opening) feel like we are living out error 404 daily.

In the interest of full transparency, I made a miscalculation concerning my antidepressant. Pre-Covid19, I was feeling good. Like maybe I kicked my depression to the curb good. And so, when my prescription refill got called in by my doctor I didn’t bother to let him know that he was prescribing my earlier dosage. I just went with it. It was only a tiny difference and so I believed that it would be no big deal.

It has been kind of a deal.

Every strategy, system, schedule I had in place pre-Corona got paused. Error 404. ‘Almost everything you know to do to live your life and be well cannot be found.’ Doh!

If we weren’t going through all of the ramifications of a novel virus perhaps all would be well… maybe…

And so, I write this poolside… snorting some vitamin D because that helps. I have a belly full of a antioxidant rich, autoimmune boosting salad. I have let my people know that I am struggling. And I am taking a baby step forward today to do just a bit better. (Which includes my previous, previous dose of antidepressant.)

To be struggling at a time like this isn’t unusual… in fact it should probably have been anticipated. Coulda shoulda woulda. Oh well. That’s me. How you doin??!

Project Crayola

Not to name any names… but someone has been pooping the rainbow around here…. (*cough cough* Iris Bernard who is NO saint!)

It is challenging enough to keep the kids from ‘tasting’ their crayons let alone keep the dog from literally eating them.

Just because it looks good, smells good, tastes good, feels good does not make it good.

Thank you to my giant fur baby for teaching me this surviving covid 19 lesson today.

*Content warning— the following video may either make you smile or make you never read my blog again.*

Project Gold star

I find it pretty hard to plan my life these days. The pendulum swings from one extreme to the other. Either, I rock my day and accomplish a million things, all while looking like a million bucks (meaning I changed out of my night pyjamas into my day pyjamas); or my house looks like a bomb was deployed and I discover that I have someone else’s booger in my unwashed hair. I believe this is where I am supposed to give you a wink and a finger gun and tell you ‘it’s all about balance.’

There is nothing normal about life right now. There is no balance to be had. This is not normal. For me, to be isolated with 3 under 3 without a release valve is not normal or healthy! To not be feeling a bit off would be weird. And obviously I am not weird… 🤪

For others, to suddenly be thrust into the role of home school teacher … that is just cruel and unusual punishment. Cancelled graduations, postponed celebrations, weddings, funerals, births, just to name a few,… is not normal. Not to be trite… but ‘it is ok not to be ok’ in light of the covid 19 pandemic. To be not touched by it in some way would also be beyond weird.

So, today if you leapt out of bed and did your hour long peloton workout at 5:30 am .. gold star for you. If you called in sick to your boss (who happens to be you) because season 3 of Brooklyn nine-nine just sounds better.. gold star for you too!

The reality is, you can do all the right things to ‘feel better’, ‘do better’, ‘be better’, and still feel like crap. But perhaps tomorrow, tomorrow will feel a little less crappy.