Goodbye Ordinary

Archive for June 2012

I love my kids. I really do. They are intelligent, creative, amazing, daring, passionate, not to mention absolutely adorable… But, they are also wild, intense, loud, full of attitude, destructive, and exhausting. Typical children. But man, I’m beat.

When you work 10 hours a day, plus an hour worth of drive time, you just want to come home and relax. You’re tired. You’re sleep deprived, especially when you have children that won’t go to bed until after it’s dark (in the summer that means 10ish), don’t sleep through the night without at least one of them waking…screaming, and you are naturally a night owl that can’t ever seem to fall asleep before midnight, then wakes at 4:30am to pee, and then has to be up for the day at 6. Sleep deprived is the new normal. The new “awake”.

You don’t realize how much you miss sleep until you actually get some… and then, it’s even worse than when you didn’t remember what you were missing. Oh how I miss those days when I was a teenager before The Monster was born, where I could literally sleep like 21 hours out of the day. Not getting up until 2pm was the norm and oh, how magical. Now “sleeping in” means 8am. Possibly 8:30.

Well, I realized that a good way to stave of the effects of sleep deprived parenthood: yoga.

All of the yogi parents are probably nodding their head in agreement. Yoga revitalizes you when you’re tired (not to mention, if you do it at the studio you’re granted a blissful savasana for about 10 mins or so… that’s right, 10 minutes of (guided) relaxation, where you can drift to your happy place, only breathe, and not otherwise even move.

Don’t get me wrong, yoga is intense, it can be difficult, and a great work out. It’s the after effect that you’re after. The prana that flows through your body when it’s alive and all of your connective tissue is awakened. I’m totally a yoga spokeswoman. Ha.

Anyway so, yoga and parenting… Yoga makes me a better mom. When I make time to do yoga, even if it means missing that extra little bit of time with the kids, I am happier, I am calmer. It takes longer to push me from the green zone to the red zone, and even when in the red zone, I’m reminded of my ability to breathe during my “suffering” (which I’m reminded to not think of as suffering) and while my children are making me want to rip my hair from my head… I can just “woo-sah” myself into that happy place, taking a minute to breathe, and then go back into the chaos with a level head.

When I’ve been out of yoga for a while, I reverted back to the “RAHHH” mode, where I just wanted to beg and plead with my children to be quiet for 30 freaking seconds. Seriously, idk how my mother survived me, I talk from the time I get up to the time I go to bed… and my son is LOUDLY the same way. *ensue insanity*.

If I hadn’t found yoga, I’m pretty sure I would have found a mental institution.

Regrettably, I missed Monday’s core class. I woke up Monday morning with my first ever UTI, I’m quite positive it came straight from Hell. I sucked it up at work, went to a dr’s appt where it was confirmed, but couldn’t wait for the prescription (another 45 mins >.<) so I miserably went back to work… At 3pm I couldn’t take it anymore so I left work early to get my prescription and go home to my amazingly comfortable bed.

Buttttt, antibiotics and pain killers are magical things and I woke up Tuesday morning almost pain free and read to take on life again. This morning, it’s like nothing was ever wrong… Except I am still drinking a million more oz’s of water than usual because it’s hot and I want to be sure to flush all the bacteria out… so I’ve had to pee a zillion times.

Anyway, so I went to today’s drop in class to make up for it… Boy, was I in for a treat.

I didn’t realize that it’s the summer solstice today.

Which means…. Super dee ooper special hardcore class. Of course on the Summer Solstice, that is 95ish degrees out, and sunny… We have to salute the sun! Soooo…. We did a 21 Sun Salute. That’s right folks, 21 sun salutations. We threw in some variations like warrior, triangle, jumping through… and i forget what else.

But I did really well at focusing on my breath, and I survived the class. My arms felt like fiery jello after though… They are a lot stronger than before, but I have a long way to go in the upper body strength department.

It was awesome and I felt pretty proud of me for being able to mostly do low pushups every time. I still can’t glide through to up dog, which is crazy annoying.. but someday!

Then when I got home, I ate, then took the kids swimming. Little Miss was swimming with only arm swimmies on!!! And the Monster was swimming underwater like a fish! He even kept “diving” down to the bottom to touch it! ❤ They are getting TOO big!

I’ll edit with pics tomorrow, they’re on my camera… which is dead.

Namaste,

Brin

Just a warning, this post is very personal to me, and it’s something I rarely talk about. I’ve actually been writing it for a while now…

So, like many, many of my peers I come from a blended family. My parents got pregnant with me Junior year of high-school. They got married, they got divorced, my dad finished college and then moved across the country for the career he always wanted… Leaving a 5ish year old me behind with my mom. I visited him every summer for about a week or two, and we talked on the phone every so often. Within a couple years of the move, both of my parents remarried. I got a step-mom, and a step-sister from one of those marriages, and a stepfather (obviously) from the other.

Let me first say that I love all of my parents. All 4 of them. But, our relationships are all very, very different. I don’t mean this post to be hurtful at all, or to place blame or anything, I just want to finally give some much needed recognition.

So, if my memory serves correctly, over the years the phone calls between my father and I got shorter, and more spaced apart. It’s difficult to keep a relationship between a father and a t(w)eenager, when you only have phone calls and a once-a-year visit. My dad was never part of my adolescent parenting. He was just the man who I look crazily alike, who has a great laugh, my same smile, feet, and eyes, that loves the outdoors. I don’t blame him for not being around. Being a teen mother myself, I know what he had faced, and at least he always kept in touch with me, provided for me, and loved me; even if it was from afar. I am very thankful that he didn’t cause a million problems for my mom and stepdad, or drag all of through a bitter and ugly custody battle or something. He was an awesome dad in that he let another man raise his daughter because he couldn’t be there to.

My dad and I still don’t have much of a relationship, we talk on the phone sometimes, but I don’t think either of us really ever know what to say. I love him, and I’m sure he loves me, but it is what it is, the result of being the “absent” parent for most of the year (and of my life) by living on the other coast.

Anyway… then there is my stepdad. We’re both Leo’s. Actually, we have the same birthday, just 18?-ish years apart. We are both stubborn. We are both opinionated. We are both loyal to a fault. In other words, we clash. ALL. The. Time. I can remember a million screaming matches. We both are so prideful that I think out of all of the fights/arguments, there were very few “I’m sorry”s… and over the years, I can honestly say there were very very few “I love you”‘s.

But, it’s not that we didn’t/don’t love each other. We’re just too… idk what… to speak that little phrase. I want to be clear though, it was always known.

I wasn’t spoiled by him in a “wrapped around daddy’s finger” sort of way… That’d be my younger sister’s territory (his bio-daughter). But he did so much for me. He was hard on me. He IS hard on me. He pushed me to excel in everything, even when I knew I was going to fail at it (and rarely did I actually fail). He taught me to drive (after my mom freaked me out so much while I was pulling into our driveway that I hit the wrong pedal and almost crashed into the house…). He grounded me, often. He went to my sports events (even when it was cheerleading). I’m pretty sure he held my hair back while I puked a few times. And most importantly, he always introduced me as his own. I was never just  his “step-daughter” and most certainly not “my wife’s daughter”. I was his. and even though I called him by his name, and I don’t share any DNA with him, he was is my dad.

I think we had a pretty normal “father”/daughter relationship. The love/hate kind. We’d go days, sometimes weeks, without talking. Every day for 2.5 years we’d simultaneously get ready for school/work and never say a word to each other, just nod our head on the way out the door. But, he was always there for me, and I knew that. It was a special kind of dysfunction.

When I got pregnant with my son… I wasn’t afraid of my parents… After all, I was a year older than they were when they got pregnant with me… So what could they say?! But, I was afraid of my step-dad’s reaction. I was on birth control, I didn’t mean to get pregnant. He came in the room after he knew I tested and asked… “so, am I going to be a grandfather?” all lighthearted. All I could do was nod my head… and burst into tears. He asked if I was joking and I remember screaming something at him, and possibly chucking the pregnancy test at him/the door. Fast forward to the Monster actually being here, he is the most devoted “papa” ever, with Little Miss too.

I can’t say that I don’t wish things were different. I wish a lot of things. In a perfect world, I’d have had my “real” dad around for all of those things too… But if I did, I wouldn’t have the relationship I have with my stepdad. I wish that I wouldn’t have hated either of them so much… after all, I really did love them both, even when I “hated” them. They were both doing what they thought was best for me, and in their own ways, they are both great fathers.

My dad stayed on the sidelines, and I haven’t asked him, but I’d like to think that it was because he knew that my stepdad was taking care of me for him, and he didn’t want to get in the way of that. So thank you both, for letting me be me and make my own (countless) mistakes. Thank you both for being there, even for the worst of them.

And to my step-dad, I hope that you know I love you, even when I hate you. And it is all that I could ever want for my kids, for them to have a stepfather who loves them as much as you love me.

…my facebook went stupid and won’t load so, i’ll have to edit with a pic later!

I always find it slightly comical when I get done with work and head to yoga; or in some cases, leave work early to make it to a class (like on Friday’s for Happy Hour yoga!)… I come from the office, dressed in businesswear. So naturally, after yoga, I have to put my shoes back on… and yesterday, like many days, I had a little chuckle when I walked down the stairs from the studio… aqua yoga tank, black yoga capris, and raspberry pumps. Yes, I was pretty hott, as per usual. 😉

Then I got to thinking some more… I’m one of those people that prefers to be barefoot, in comfy clothes, with my hair down (brushing totally optional… and usually not done.. but I don’t go anywhere near the whole dread thing… I just like the “I don’t try to be something I’m not” look) and no, or very little (I’m talking only brown eyeliner on the bottom) make up on. But, I’ll wear professional clothes to work, be it a pants suit, a pencil skirt, or other skirt, and a nice top. Yesterday was one of those days… I was wearing a pretty skirt, a nice top, and my favorite pumps. At the office though, staying true to my inner “hippie”, I kicked off the shoes and go barefoot as much as possible.

So, basically, I’m either a barefoot businesswoman… Or a yogi in heels.

Then you factor in the chaos of my family, and I’m one pretty dynamic, multi-faceted woman.

This past weekend, we went on our first family mini-vacation with the boyfriend and the kids. We went down to Philadelphia on Saturday, ate & played at Dave & Busters, then went to the Philadelphia Zoo on Sunday. We met up with a bunch of my other “osm” moms, who I met on a babycenter birth board back in 2009 while pregnant with Little Miss, we were all due April 2010. It was a blast. The only downfalls were that we didn’t get a “family” picture at the zoo… and sweet Little Miss got sick and vomited on her brother. And when I say on him, I mean… All. Over. Him. while laying in bed. Poor kids. I’m not sure who had it worse, puking… or being puked on?

But, it was a great weekend and the boyfriend didn’t run screaming from the hotel, or the zoo… or even when we got home… So I’d say that’s a success for us all!

My sweet little family ❤

So my little yoga update… Yesterday was the first class of the core series, that I crazily signed up for… My core needs strengthened (well, really all of me needs strengthened). It was a really good class, though I was a bit nervous going into it. My arms actually felt the brunt of the workout more so than my core, as down dogs and planks tend to wear out my weak little arms (and bad wrist).

Which let me just say, having a bad wrist totally freaking blows when I’m so passionate about yoga now. I can’t do all the things I’d like to do, even if I COULD do them, because of my dang wrist! >.<

But, I have to keep in mind I’ve came a long way since November when I took my first yoga class… I not only survived the class, but as Kath would say. I totally thrived. Thrive, not survive, is something I need to do some more of. It seems like lately with the balancing act I’ve been doing I just float by on the minimal amount to survive and that’s no way to live my life… and definitely not how I got through college with 2 kids!

Hello Brin, kick it into gear!

Now that I’ve bored you all into a blog coma, and you can’t comment anyway because I haven’t figured out my WordPress issue…. please “like” and come back soon! 🙂

Namaste,

Brinny

MIA…

Posted on: June 6, 2012

Oops… Looks like I’ve been MIA, and I totally didn’t mean to be!

I have this problem… I am very… stubborn. I hold a grudge like nobody’s business and when things (even technology) piss me off… I tend to just give up, push them far away from me… and ignore their exisitence. Which is exactly what happened here.

On my last post (graduation), somehow the comments got disabled. I am NOT a techy. I googled, found a million people that complained about the same thing happening (all of my comments on other posts were still active, but for whatever reason, the most recent post wouldn’t allow for comments…. and it was a very comment worthy occasion!) So, I got frustrated, couldn’t figure it out and had the mindset of… What is the point of posting on a blog if no one has the opportunity to comment!? Especially on something as a single mom of 2 graduating summa cum laude from college. I wanted to toot my own horn, and couldn’t. As you can imagine… it was maddening!

It wasn’tENTIRELYthat… I also got super duper busy with “grown up” hours at work, and with that came exhaustion. I’m finally figuring out the balance between 45-50 hour work weeks, the kids, eating that’s not COMPLETELY unhealthy, yoga, and one of the most important concerns: sleep. Now that I have those things mostly figured out and in their own kind of orchestrated chaos, I can try to put the blog back on that priority list.

Since graduation my life has been anything but yogic. It saddens me that I lost touch with something that makes me so happy, calm, and focused. BUT it is realllly great to know that if I get overwhelmed it’s there for me. I had to take a break from the chaos a few times during the past weeks and just do a quick and dirty practice with a million suns, some warriors, and of course something along the lines of savasana. It’s like an old best friend, we lose touch for a while, but every time that we meet up….  it’s like no time has past (until the next day when all of my muscles are screaming at me that I shouldn’t have took that time off because now they’re even more worked than usual!).

I never truly had a best friend growing up, I moved too much. So this is especially sweet to me, knowing that it’s a constant escape that is there for me whenever I need it. Without judgment; without expectations.

A sweet moment caught by a friend of mine, and photographer at High Image Photography ❤


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