All Good Things Must Come to an End

Today's the day. January 2nd. The day I have been waiting for with equal parts of fear and loathing mixed in.

2012 was not a horrible year. Sure, I have written a handful of posts that would like to convince you otherwise. But, truly, in the grand scheme of life it wasn't horrible. I have a nice warm house to play in, I never go to bed starving, and Alice was fortunate enough to have a very good Christmas. I will not complain.

With the start of a brand new year, it's natural to reflect on the previous one. As far as personal achievements, I did good. I made reading a priority. I committed myself to exercising on a regular schedule, and in doing so rediscovered the old Nelly. I made having adult fun a crucial part of my life. I no longer believe I am just a mom. I did all this for the better part of 2012...then I started slacking. A little slacking here and there turned into a shit ton of slacking with a large heaping of laziness on the side, and before I knew it I was no longer going to the gym at all. I wasn't reading or writing. I was enjoying the holidays with reckless abandon. I had a very good and somewhat legitimate excuse to eat and drink all I cared to and then some. By Decemeber my "damn your ass looks good in those" jeans no longer fit. I had resigned myself to leggings, yoga pants, and two pairs of fat jeans.

Life was good. Until today.

Today I begin 2013 with determination to fix what I broke. Here goes, hold me accountable blogosphere.

• I will not bite my nails. I will not use the excuse "I'm just biting the skin." I will take the time necessary to have pretty fingers.
• I will blog. I will stop making excuses. If I have time to search YouTube for Y&R episodes, I have time to write.
• I will exercise. Regulary. All year long.
• I will organize my finances. This does not mean straighten the money in my wallet. I probably don't even have any money in my wallet.
• I will organize my house. Again, no more excuses...see above, regarding Y&R episodes.
• I will read books. Not only glorified porn. There has to be more than smut on my iPad.
• I will do what's necessary to take care of myself in as many ways as necessary. Seems vague, but I do it for Alice. If her skin is dry, I take the time to lotion. If her socks are getting too small, I make it a priority to buy new socks. I will wax because smooth makes me feel better. I will paint my toes because a pop of color can brighten a dreary day. I will take care of my skin because its the only skin I will ever have. I will spend money on new bras because they make me feel pretty. I will buy makeup when needed, doing so does not make me a lifetime member of the Sephora Club kind of girl.

I'm not normally into New Year's resolutions. And really, these aren't so much resolutions as a swift kick in the ass. I had a good thing going over the holidays, but gluttony doesn't fit me well.

YouTube

I need help y'all. Did I really just say y'all? I must be really desperate.

I need your YouTube playlist. I don't even know if it's called a playlist. I don't actually know much about YouTube. Generally, I only use it to watch episodes of Young and the Restless. When people email me YouTube links, I delete them. I'm too cool for YouTube. I've never understood the phenomenon of watching everyone else's homemade videos.

Until now.

It turns out, I'll watch anything. See, I have a window of time nearly everyday where I am stuck warming up on the elliptical for twenty minutes in order to run without my knees buckling, leaving me in a crying heap, sore and bitching for days after. I used to read during this time, until I committed myself to read a book I don't enjoy. Instead of admitting defeat, I looked around at what everyone else was doing. Listening to music...yeah, I really enjoy saving that for my run, reading magazines...eh, seems like cheating on my book, staring at hot girl's asses...nah, not really into that, watching videos on their phone...that's it!

I broke out my phone and set to work entertaining myself. I watched a few music videos before I became stuck. I had nothing to search for, I had no idea what to watch. Maybe this is why I never understood YouTube. What do you people do with it? Lost, I watched a very short clip of Justin Bieber vomiting on stage, a ten minute video of the Ohio State marching band, and footage of a fireball during a lightning storm. Before I knew it, my time was up and my knees were properly loosened. And I was in love with YouTube.

So fine followers, please, I beg of you, what do I need to watch? I want your recommendations. Anything good, leave it in the comments or tweet it to me. Remember, anything goes. If I watched the entire ten minutes of a marching band, I'll watch anything!

Row Away

I've got problems. I'm not talking about the simple life problems, like why can I not, no matter how many loads of laundry I wash, ever be caught up? Or, why is it as soon as I buy the super, über, family size box of Wheat Thins does Alice decide she doesn't like them anymore?

I'm talking about real problems. The kind of problems that are mind consuming and usually, life altering. We all have them. And if at this very moment, you're thinking to yourself, "Not me. Right now things are great. Problem free." Look out. I guarantee one's coming right around the corner. This is not me being pessimistic, this is me being a realist. Life is full of problems to process and handle appropriately.

Don't you ever wish you could actually run away from your problems? I do. I'd love to get on a plane to Fiji, say, "Sayonara problems, hasta la never! I'm outta here bitches!" Poof! Just like that problems gone. All kinds of awesome. Except, I'm almost a month shy of my thirty second birthday, and I've learned, that's not the way it happens. Evvver. Problems will be here at the gate when you get back holding up a sign with your name on it. You can not run from your problems. Even when you really, really want to.

You know what you can do? Row away from them. I discovered that my temporary escape from my problems is at the gym. Seated on the rowing machine, iPod playing, my mind is not focused on the tunes. Instead, my mind is focused, visualizing individuals, and the problems they've helped cause. And I row. Fast. In my mind, I see him standing on the bank and the distance between me and my problem increases. The distance makes me row harder, craving more space between me and my problem. In that moment it feels real, it feels phenomenal. It feels like I won, I escaped. Then, I open my eyes and I see the treadmills and the squash courts, reality comes rushing back. My problems are still here, right by my side. But for that moment, I gave myself the much needed escape.

I think that's the key I'm learning about problems. They are significantly more manageable if you can escape them every now and then. Not run away per se, just visualize an escape, put distance between you and them and gain perspective. It feels good.

"Pray to God, but row away from the rocks." - Hunter S. Thompson

Digging Myself Out Of The Trench

After adjusting the laces on my shoes, I stepped on, set the treadmill, and started to run. With my iPod in hand, I scrolled through the artists and found what I was looking for, an oldy but goody recently added to my new iPod, Damian Jr Gong Marley, and pressed play. I ran for a few moments, my thoughts racing from my to-do lists to my worries, and then the chorus kicked in. Just like that, I was transported back six years ago. To a time when things were different. I was different. And in that moment, running, all thoughts disappeared but one.

I'm back.

You often hear new moms talk about the dream of getting back into their pre-baby clothes, and don't get me wrong, I wanted the same. After six months I was there...mostly. But, without even being aware, what I needed most, was to get back to the pre-baby me. That has been a horrendously long journey. Alice just turned four and I can finally say I'm there...mostly.

In that moment, running, I felt it and it felt terrifically familiar. The it being the old me. She was there and finally shining through.

At my baby shower, four plus years ago, seasoned veterans offered advice like sleep when the baby sleeps and take all the help that's offered. Everyone made it out like all you needed to be concerned with is the window of time when your new child is a baby. It came off to ignorant me like life would return when the baby started to sleep through the night. People neglected to inform me that not only would life never be the same again, I would lose myself in the process.

Lose myself I did.

I wasn't even aware. That may have been the worst part. I was no longer me and I didn't even know it. It has taken several years and unique circumstances for me to finally shine the light on myself and examine what I have allowed myself to become. I had given in to the role of mom and become nothing but. I had allowed myself to become unimportant. I was a mother, nothing else. I can see how it happened. I became so engrossed in the infant stage, survival mode in the trenches so to speak, and every stage of motherhood thereafter brought new and equally urgent requirements. I never stopped for a moment to look out of the trench, look around at life and see it all going by.

Until I did.

When I finally woke up and realized the old Nelly was gone, it was a relief...sort of. It sucked, but at least I was aware. It's like being sick for years, being told countless times we can't find anything wrong, and finally having a diagnosis. At least I could begin to work to dig me out from underneath the mom mountain I had created.

It's taken awhile and many changes, but seeing myself in the mirror, running, listening to Jr Gong, I saw me. I saw Nelly, not just Mama. And when I had finished working out, I retrieved Alice from daycare. As we walked out of the gym, her hand in mine, talking about the butterfly she had made and the bug that had been on the step the day before, she took my hand and wiped her nose with it.

And all was good.

Two Birds With One Stone

Sound the horns, beat the drums...I've finally killed two birds with one stone. Sort of. I didn't actually kill any birds. Though, in the spring, when the weathers nice and I'd like to sleep with the windows open, but I can't because the mother lovin birds in my neighborhood wake up at 4am, I'd like to kill birds then. I digress. Let me try again. I've finally accomplished two goals and I did them at the exact same time. I wanted to share the news with you sooner, but I didn't want to jinx it. I'm a bit superstitious. Ask me about the number 8 next time you see me. Second thought, don't. It might just prove I'm crazy and I'd surely lose readers.

I think I've had too much coffee today.

I joined the gym and Alice has been babysat by complete strangers, i.e., gym daycare. This is big, people. Huge. Both feats.

Prior to growing a human inside me, I exercised regulary. I ran. A lot. I had a 6-pack. I fit into a dress that looked like a Barbie doll could wear. The pink, floral dress still hangs in my closet taunting me. Then, I didn't get pregnant as quickly as I wanted and my cycle started to become irregular. My ob doctor, concerned I was becoming too under weight, blaming my trouble concieving on it, suggested I cut back on the amount I was running. So I did. Fast forward to now, nearly 5 years later, I have a beautiful, brilliant daughter and a 2-pack at best. I haven't exercised with any regularity and it shows. I can accept that my body may never look like it did before, I was in my 20's and now I'm not, I've birthed a child, things change. However, I have not admitted defeat regarding my growing ass. I finally redeemed the Groupon I bought for a gym down the street. I'm proud to say, I'm addicted again. I think my lazy ass, stagnant streak is over.

Now, about the daycare. Some friends I talk to think it's bizarre that Alice isn't in daycare or preschool or hasn't been babysat by anyone but family yet. I see their point, she is 4. But, up until now I've never needed outside of family help and I was never comfortable with the idea anyway. The idea of some stranger in my house, snooping through my desk, riffling through my pantry never exactly thrilled me. I know one day we will hire a college kid to watch Alice and it'll be fine, we just haven't needed to yet. This all means Alice is extremely used to me. And I'm very comfortable knowing she's safe. Cut to the first day at the gym. I walked her in the daycare room. It looked fun, the kids were playing Play-Doh. I'm sure my heart was beating just as fast as hers. This nervous, excited feeling for both of us. She clung to my leg as I talked to the teacher and pointed out the fun she was bound to have. I told her I would be back soon, and I separated her clingy arms from my leg and walked out of the door. That was it. She wasn't screaming. She didn't cry. She just stood there for awhile, flabbergasted I think. In shock that her mother actually left her with strangers. I'm sure she doubted my judgement call. I went about my exercise regime with only minimal concern for my child. Every now and then, I'd peek in the window at her, always happily playing dollhouse or barbies, but always alone.

This will be good for us, as individuals and as a mother-daughter duo. I'll get back to my pre-pregnancy self and, with any luck, into that dress, and she'll have a nice introduction in separation before preschool in the fall. A win win if I do say so.

Patting myself on the back for a job well done.