Gracie and her wee-wee

Yep, you read that title right. My daughter. And her wee-wee. Before you freak out, here’s a picture of her sitting on it.

Gracie on her wee-wee.
Gracie on her wee-wee.

She’s called it that since she could talk because we’ve always said, “WEEEEEEE!” together whenever she rides it. Makes sense, eh? Trust me, I’ve tried to get her to start calling it her giraffe. Or her rocking toy. Or honestly ANYTHING other than her wee-wee.

But wee-wee stuck, so wee-wee it is.

The more I thought about it the worse I felt about trying to make her change the name she came up with for her toy. Just because it’s not “conventional.” It’s not “normal.” It makes me blush a little bit when we have company over and Gracie asks to play with it. Or when I have to use it for leverage, and say something like, “Gracie, Momma’s going to take your wee-wee away if you don’t stop coloring on it! Remember, sweetie? We only color on PAPER.” (Put that right at the top of things I never thought I’d be saying to my 2-year old daughter.)

Shouldn’t I be celebrating her creativity? Or at least encouraging her to tread her own path, come up with ideas, and stick to her guns? Or something like that? Probably.

But for now, I’ll likely just hope that Parker comes up with a different name for it. Fingers crossed.


near-starvation, baseball, and a little forgiveness

“Momma, I’m huuuuuuungry tooooooo!”

This was said, ever so dramatically, by my almost 3-year old toddler, Gracie. I honestly don’t know WHERE she gets her flair for the dramatics from. Not like I EVER pitched fits when I was little. Ever. Naturally, I was perfect. (Cough.) We were on our way to a baseball game today and even though the car ride was only an hour long… a LOT can happen in an hour. Especially in the life of a toddler.

Before the incident. Happiness all around.
Before the incident. Happiness all around.

For real, though. She’s adorable. And sassy. She’ll pitch a fit like you wouldn’t believe, but then she’ll run up to you and throw her arms around you in a way that only she can, and everything will be all better. She’ll nuzzle her little head into the crook of my neck, and I’ll smell her sweet, sweaty little head on a warm summer day, and I’ll remember that she’s two. She’s just figuring this big world out. She’s testing her boundaries, and seeing what she is capable of doing on her own. Today she decided that she needed to eat RIGHT THAT SECOND.

I’ll be the first person to admit it: I’m NOT a perfect mom. Or a perfect wife. Sometimes I lose my patience. Sometimes I’m trying to get somewhere in a hurry and my temper rears its ugly head. I wish it wasn’t true, but it is.

So on this hour long car ride, which in theory should be no big deal, Parker (my 1-year old little dude) apparently realized he was about to starve to death. Then Gracie was flipping out because seeing her brother eat made her realize she was also clearly on the precipice of death due to starvation. Despite the full breakfast she ate that morning, and the box of raisins she just finished a half an hour prior. Obviously I never feed my kids.

So I lost my cool. I’ll admit it – I snapped. Not my best moment. I yelled at Gracie to settle down, and told her she will get to eat her sandwich in 15 minutes when we got to the game. I had a knot of regret stewing in the pit of my stomach when my husband asked if I wanted to sing a song, and burst into a version of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” in his goofy baritone. And all of a sudden everything was better again.

Was it the last time I lost my cool today? Nope. Will it happen again tomorrow? Maybe. But I’m not perfect, and I’m not pretending to be.

It’s okay. Just take a deep breath and forgive yourself.

Despite nearly starving on the way, all children made it to the game safely. They had one heck of a time, and were spoiled rotten with yummy treats!
Tons of fun was had at the game! The kiddos had one heck of a time and were spoiled rotten with yummy treats. 🙂


“Aerodynamically, the bumble bee shouldn’t be able to fly, but the bumble bee doesn’t know it so it goes on flying anyway.” Mary Kay Ash

A good friend of mine from high school loves this quote. Me too. And it came to mind this morning BIG time when I got out of bed and felt like I had been tackled by an offensive lineman. I felt ALL of my 30 years, plus an extra 55 or so for good measure.

I realize how lame I sound when I say this, but I’m only this sore because I mowed our lawn for the first time yesterday. In my defense, we have a big backyard. And a big hill in front of our house. But yes, I admit that it appears as though I’m kind of a wuss. I also realize that most adults who are homeowners have mowed their lawn for the first time before their fourth decade of life. OOPS. I’m a wee bit spoiled having been with my hubby since I was 16 – he’s always taken care of this sort of thing! (Thanks, honey.)

But anyway… me = sore this morning. And the absolute LAST thing I wanted to do was work out. But I knew it had to happen. I’ve got goals, yo. So I put on my game face and my sports bra, and laced up my flashy, glow-in-the-dark sneakers.

As I got into the groove of my workout that quote popped into my head. Because you know… I SHOULDN’T be able to do some of the things I’ve been doing on this fitness journey. Physically, as an obese person, my body just shouldn’t be capable of some of this stuff. But I kind of just decided to ignore that. To set my goals and push past my limitations anyway.

Why CAN’T you fly, dear bumble bees? Why CAN’T you reach your goals? Get out of your own head. Get out of your own way. Flap those wings, darnit.

You’ve got this.


Alright, folks – it’s about to get real. I started this blog to be HONEST. To share my journey. To give you a peek into the window of my past, and to come along with me on the journey into a healthier future. So here’s a huge truth of mine: I used to be a binge eater.

Embarrassing, but true. I also used to struggle with depression, which led to the binge eating. I’d talk more about that, but perhaps that’s for another post. Right now I want to talk about all.the.EATING.

I’d have entire nights where all I did was lay in bed, read books, and binge eat BAGS of chips. I’d eat BOXES of cheesy crackers. Full bags of licorice. I’d seriously be staying up until all hours of the morning just to eat.

I could blame a lot of things. A poor body image that was forced on me at a young age. Constantly worrying about my “thunder thighs.” ALWAYS sucking in my stomach, afraid that people would see how fat I really was. I had been doing that for years, even when I was at my thinnest.

Food was always a crutch for me – especially junk food. I’d reason it away and say I was doing it because these things were “comfort foods.” But they DIDN’T give me any comfort. Why couldn’t I see that? They furthered my crappy body image. They made me feel like a walking hunk of junk. They gave me headaches, left me bloated, and ensured that I was packing on the pounds during all of my young adulthood.

I’d love to blame depression. Or a warped body image. But I didn’t get to 335 pounds (yep, you read that right) by ACCIDENT. What was happening was full blown self-destruction, one bag of chips at a time.

I want to preach to you about how I’ve changed. How I’m fully past this. But that would be a bold-faced lie. Because part of me, on a super-crazy-awful bad day, does occasionally want to just grab a bag of chips at the store. But then I remember all of my progress. All of the sweat I’ve put into this. All of the late nights and early mornings.

I’m down 85 POUNDS. I’ve worked my butt off (literally) to get where I stand today. I have Beachbody programs and Shakeology to thank for it. I have the love and support of my Coach, my team, and all of my family and friends to thank for it.

I ain’t goin’ back. NOPE. Not happening. Screw you, bad body image. Shove it, junk food. I’m on a path to HEALTH. I’m using these fitness programs and my amazingly delicious super food shake as my building blocks. I’m sticking to my guns this time, and I’m going full steam ahead.

I know I won’t always be perfect and that I’ll indulge from time to time. Honestly, a little indulgence is healthy. LITTLE being the key word. So if I have a bad day, I’m hopping right back on the train the next day. Nothing is going to derail me.

Because I’M WORTH IT.

it’s ALWAYS poop

You know when as a parent (of humans or dogs alike) you’re walking along, minding your own business, and then notice something on the floor? You immediately feel compelled to pick it up. You bend down, grab it, and realize…it’s POOP.

This ALWAYS happens to me. (Okay, not always.) But it seems to happen to me a whole lot more than my husband.

I feel like there’s a lesson to be learned here. First, check your dog’s butt before coming inside after a good run. Unpleasant, but necessary. Second, and most important: STOP PICKING UP EVERYONE ELSE’S CRAP.

Not in the literal sense, of course. Please clean your house. Don’t be gross. But if people are putting negativity out into the world, do you have to pick it up? NOPE. Do you have to let it affect you? Not one bit.

So while it’s usually always poop, it doesn’t have to be YOUR poop. Ya dig?

comparison is for the BIRDS 

“Comparison is the thief of joy.”

Someone much wiser (Teddy Roosevelt, maybe?) said that a long time ago. And you know what? Still holds true.

I was running today. Midday, hot, and muggy – so for this momma with a tendency toward heat exhaustion, the PERFECT time (OY) – and my mind was running in circles.

I had a conversation with one of my running inspirations yesterday. She was trying to uplift me and let me know that even she, who has been running for about a billion and a half years, has off days. She was upset with herself for running a 12-minute mile. I completely sympathized with her at the time, because I recently had my OWN off day with running and she had helped me through it.

But then she walked away, and I was like, “Wait, whaaa?” A 12-minute mile? I’d be freaking ECSTATIC with that! Picture me, a double jogging stroller, my two little ones, and my Australian Shepherd running (what feels like) a mile a minute at that pace. I would’ve been so jazzed.

I know she was trying to help. But do you know what my silly brain did as I was running today? COMPARED MYSELF TO HER. Her, a seasoned runner. ME, a newbie who is technically still in the obese weight category.

My advice in this scenario? DON’T FLIPPIN’ DO IT. Don’t compare. Don’t take the wind out of your own sails. Set your OWN goals. Be happy with your OWN progress. Be a good friend and help each other through hard times, but don’t let the amazingness of others deter you from finding your own form of awesome.

All of this took about 30 seconds for me to realize while running under the hot sun today. And it motivated me. I pushed harder. And then I ran my fastest mile EVER. 10:38, baby! BOOM.

So go out there today. Do awesome things. Be happy with yourself and your progress. And never, ever compare. Make Teddy (and me) proud.

the first day of the rest of my life after potato chips

Well, it finally happened. My LAST DAY of work in corporate America. As I walked out of the double doors on the beautiful campus, I took a big, deep breath, and stepped out into the rest of my life.

Let me just start by saying that 6 months ago if you had told me I’d be doing this, I would’ve laughed in your face. Straight up belly laughed, in fact. Maybe even snorted – I’ve been known to do that from time to time. But this is REAL. This is MY LIFE. And now I get to go out and live it. I get to be PRESENT for my two growing children. I get to live out my dreams.

Helping other people reach their goals has gotten me here. They keep me going. Seeing their progress lights a fire in my belly to do MORE with my life. With my health. With my nutrition. They keep me aiming high for my own weight loss goals. Today one of them made me realize that the amount of weight I’ve lost is equivalent to the size of a newborn calf. FO’ REAL, these people rock.

Figuring out my own path in life has gotten me here. I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up, other than the best momma I could be. My toddler may or may not agree that I’ve been achieving that depending on how much negotiating we’ve had to do that day. And her baby brother will pretty much just follow along with whatever she says or does. Trouble? Sometimes. Adorable? Always.

Now I can proudly say I want to be the best COACH I can be. I want to inspire. I want to motivate. I want to get people off their arses and make positive changes in their lives.

The motivation of my two little munchkins has gotten me here. They keep me going even when all I want to do is curl up under the blankets and NOT work out. Have I wanted potato chips, my old favorite? Or some freaking candy? Or any of the other things I used to use as a big-time crutch in my life? Yep. Have I been perfect? Heck no, and I never will be. But you don’t NEED to be, that’s the beauty of it.

Just BE YOU. Figure out what you want in life. And then work your tail off to get it.

You won’t regret it for a single second.