Schedule Your Commitment

Committing to the gym has been monumental for my emotional well being. Exercising releases endorphins and makes me feel good. There are times, however, when getting from the couch to the gym is a struggle. Most of the time, I am excited to go work out. If I miss that window, however, and start cuddling with my dogs or scrolling through social media, it's harder to leave.

The remedy for my situation is that I now schedule in five workouts a week. Five. If I can get to the gym all seven days, more power to me, but if I can't, I know I am still lined up for five solid gym slots. Today, things happened that were outside of my control and I didn't get to the gym... yet. But instead of trying to stop the wave, I chose to ride it. I went where the day took me, knowing that my commitment to myself would not be compromised. And now, at 5:58 pm, I am looking down at my still-laced-up shoes, I am getting ready to go.

Yesterday, was leg day but I added HIIT to my workout. Today, I am doing a big, fat cardio workout... because I deserve it, and I have new kicks to break in. HOT PINK KICKS.

Rolling out, leaving behind my three little pups (who are being so quiet and awesome that I just want to snuggle and read on the couch with them beside me) isn't easy, but I know that when I come home, I will feel good about the choice I made and will still be able to enjoy my pups. If I can find the time and dedicate one hour of my day to my body (that's only 4% of my day), then you can, too.

Sun's Out!

Seeing the sun shine bright first thing in the morning makes my day. I'm not a fan of grey skies and rain (my son's favorite), though I do appreciate it's benefits.

While sunny skies in summer beg for a lake or shore day, a long hike or bike ride, it's very important to protect your skin. I know, I know, you've heard it all before. And maybe you think that sunscreen is more toxic than the sun (it's not, if you buy the right stuff), or maybe you want a nice dose of vitamin D (which you can get in a short period of time, and through supplements), or hey, you believe a healthy tan is possible if you use SPF to obtain it (it isn't). I've made every excuse in the book, eaten antioxidant rich foods, and laid out in the blazing sun to get any amount of color my skin could handle. It wasn't until my father was diagnosed with melanoma that I started to take sun damage (that's what I call a tan) seriously.

Melanoma commonly occurs in young people, unlike basal cell carcinoma, that tends to appear over the age of 40. It is possible to see basal cell in young people but it's more commonly not. Melanoma, however, spread to your internal organs, and if not caught quickly, it's deadly.

And if you get none of that in your lifetime, you are blessed, but your skin will probably look like wrinkled leather, and who wants that?

So, how can you keep yourself as safe and protected as possible? It's so easy. My dermatologist over at Sloan Kettering gave me some tips. When you wake up in the morning, brush your teeth, wash your face, and apply sunscreen to your exposed areas. Be sure to get your hairline, ears, and neck. If you keep your sun screen near your toothbrush, it will be easy to remember and become part of your daily habit. Many day creams have an SPF, which makes your routine even easier. Concealer is opaque, so that will help protect your face from the sun, too.

Always wear really good sunglasses, even on cloudy days. The sun's ultraviolet rays can harm your eyes, and cause things like macular degeneration, but it can also cause melanoma in the eye itself, which is a very tricky thing to discover and treat. See your eye doctor for an annual exam to increase your chances of finding issues early on. The more expensive the sunglasses, the better (for the most part). Look for glass lenses with a UV Category Filter 3, if possible. I just got the Chanel Pilot Summers and love them. Then lenses are super dark and very sturdy. Click here to read what the filter readings mean and why they are important.

My Ray-Ban Aviators (blue mirrored), I have many pairs of shades, are also a Category Filter 3.

Cheap sunglasses are a big no-no. The problem with them is that they provide shade so things get darker, causing your pupils to dilate. What it's actually doing, now, is allowing more unprotected light to penetrate your eye. Read more about that here.

With all this, you should be feeling pretty good. You'll putting SPF on all exposed areas (put it on before you get dressed so you don't miss the spot where your shorts meet your legs, or your sleeve meets your arm), including your ears and hairline. You'll have great sunglasses to protect your beautiful eyes and vision. Lastly, put a hat on! Your scalp can burn, too! There are great brush on dry sunscreens for your head; I use Colorescience Sunforgettable SPF 50. They come in different shades (mine: fair). You can find it cheaper on Amazon and Overstock (where I get mine for $33), amongst other shops, but use the Colorescience link here to read about it, first.

If you aren't sold on all this, click here to see what sun damage has done, in terms of aging, to a trucker whose left side got tons of sun exposure through his window (YES, wear sunscreen while driving!) And if you don't believe that skin cancer is a very dangerous thing, that happens to young people, watch this. (Or put your head in the sand and hope for the best.)

Look, I understand this is tough. I hate applying sunscreen, and I miss having a tan. I miss seeing the signs of summer on my body. It looks pretty (for a while, at least) and feels like something magical. But it's not. It's a big, fat, lying deceptive thing, that tan. Tans increase melanin production to protect your skin, which results in a tan. It's a defense mechanism for your skin. And, by the way, a tan doesn't protect your skin from sunburn.

Please share this blog out with the people that you love. Please do your part in helping them succeed. If you are a parent, buy your kids those really expensive sunglasses that they want, even if it means eating ramen noodles for a week (and kids, if your parents do that, be sure to take great care of them and wear them all the time). Please buy really good sunscreen. Please set a great example for those around you. Don't comment on what a great tan people have, because you are perpetuating the idea that tans are a good thing.

What Makes You Want To Move?

Regardless of what type of exercise you choose, you should have fun doing it. The idea is that if you are doing something you enjoy, you will want to do it more often, and it will be easier. My main source of exercise was walking one or two (or three) of my dogs, but I knew that I needed to get back to the gym to shape things up. I always love the weight room, but it's so much more fun when I go with my husband. We don't work out together, but we are in the same room, and seeing him there committing to his health really inspires me.

Look in the mirror. You'll see my husband (and gym buddy) snapping this photo for the blog.

It's not just the gym, or the walks, that make me happy. I am a huge fan of yoga. I've fallen away from it for a while, but recently went back to a class, and it got me motivated to return again. Fitting all of this into a busy schedule isn't easy, but it's certainly possible. I've gotten out my calendar and scheduled in gym time and workout time. This way, no matter what comes up, I know I've made a commitment to my health. It helps me choose the best time to eat for fuel, the best times to up my protein with shakes, and when to walk my dogs, make phone calls, and get everything I need to get done.

And when I walk my dogs, sometimes I turn it into a little dance.

Let me know what your favorite choice of exercise is, and what makes you love it so much. Life is fun, live long and be fit!

Pay Yourself!

In my process to get healthier, I look not only at what I eat or how I workout, but also at other aspects of my life. It's important to have a healthy body, but with that, you really also need a healthy mind, and a healthy bank account sure doesn't hurt, either.

I am a huge fan of Alexa Von Tobel, author of the book Financially Fearless and the founder and CEO of the financial planning site, LearnVest. She has a weekly show on Sirius that helps people plan for their future by getting them in shape financially. I listen, a lot. Spending has always been an impulse reaction for me. The money always comes. But as I get older I realize that I get to choose how I want to handle that money. I invest it in amazing companies and craftsmen by buying their products and using their services, but I also want to start investing it in my life down the road.

The seed had been planted for a long time coming, but for me, actually doing big time saving hadn't happened.

And then, while listening to the morning show, Wake Up with Taylor, I heard an interview with Priya Milani co-founder of the company Stash Wealth. While the company is geared towards twenty- and thirty-something H.E.N.R.Y.s (High Earners Not Rich Yet), much of the advice certainly applies to late bloomers like me.

The take away from all that I've heard from both Stash and Von Tobel is to pay yourself first. Instead of paying the bills, allotting for groceries, gas, and then putting money into savings, you instead first put into savings and then live off the rest of that money. (Also, don't use credit cards unless you can (and do) pay them off at the end of the month.)

I did it! Yay me!

Today, I made the leap to open a savings account that was on the top of the Stash list of banks. It has the highest APY I could find. Ally and CapitolOne360 were the two favorites because they have really good APYs (in large part because they are online banks and don't need to pay brick and mortar fees).  I was nervous and excited as I named my account it's wish list name, and transferred a large sum of money into it. I am still just paying myself, right? It's my money, being invested in my future, into a savings plan that I can access at any time. But it felt big. Scary even. And then I thought about what that savings plan was being created for, and let out a huge sigh of relief. I did it. I invested in me.

Getting It Back (and Loving It)!

Since my last post, I have been committed to working out. I haven't been going daily, but have gotten into a habit of going three times per week. Truth be told, I'm a sucker for leg days, so they are always in the rotation. Leg days are great in that they quickly show progress, and most of the exercises are based on things we do all day long (sit, climb stairs). Plus, working big muscle groups grows those bigger muscles, and muscle burns fat. So getting my quads and butt working help me burn calories all day long... even while I sleep.

You've got 'em, work 'em!

On the flip side, cardio is not my thang. I like cardio, but I don't get excited for it. I don't crave the hill climb or the elliptical, until I'm about 7 minutes into my workout. I actually used to talk myself into (or out of, depending on the day) cardio, but now I just decide to do it. I tell myself what I am doing and then commit to it. As a former trainer, I know that people are willing to pay a lot of money to have someone whip their butt into shape. So if I do it myself, I get the payday {wink}, right?

However, all this is sort of a moot point if I'm rolling up to the McDonald's drive-thru though. The quality of what we put into our bodies has a huge effect on the quality of the return. This is evident by looking at people on the treadmills at the gym. Some people work so hard but their hard work doesn't seem to show. Are you one of those people?

There are answers out there. Answers to why you aren't seeing the results you desire. Answers to why all those hours at the gym aren't amounting to killer abs. Maybe it's not about what you're eating, but if it is, that's a pretty easy fix.

When I made the choice to hop aboard a nutrition program that I watched my friend do, successfully, for two years, I was excited but nervous. I had hopes and expectations, but no idea about how I would feel once I got started. I learned that having a plan in place takes away the guess work and makes life easier. I learned that I was in control of what I ate, and I was in control of my health. It was freeing and empowering.

I am excited when I wake up every morning. I no longer dread getting dressed and looking in the mirror. I am happy. I have hope. And I want you to feel that way too. Everyone deserves to feel amazing and proud of themselves. If you aren't there yet, but you're ready to take control of your life, I can help you. I'd love to talk to you about all the possibilities that lie ahead for you!

It's Friday (Fri Yay!) and I'm Doing...

... nothing!

I have to tell you, my abs are still sore. The last time I did anything was the plank I did in the video (that I added to the last blog) earlier this week. Tonight, I was going to go to the gym. I was. Seriously. But then this happened...

My three wild pups are so quiet right now.

Truthfully, it was super chilly today, I worked and had lots to do. I was running all day, and since I'm completely out of my daily adaptogens (they keep me rollin'), I'm moving a tad bit slower. I recognized that right now my body needs rest, so I made the choice to wait until tomorrow to go to the gym.* I had some yummy black bean pasta (which is an awesome thing to eat when gluten isn't an option) with a sliver of goat's milk butter and black truffle salt.

It's so important to honor our bodies and respect the way that we feel. If we aren't in the mood to workout, pushing ourselves to do so is usually rewarding. But if we feel tired, if our body is asking for rest, I think we need to allow ourselves the space to slow down. And truthfully, the reward of a pack of warm dogs snuggled up into each other and pressed against my lap is worth everything.

*I got a bunch of new LuLaRoe pants today, so I'm really looking forward to doing leg presses in them (will take pics of the awesome designs).

Talk About Checking Your Ego at the Door (My Lord!)

It's been a long time since I last posted.

The years between when I started this blog and today's post have been quite eventful. I spent most of those years living in an incredibly stressful state. In eight years, I dated three men, one worse than the next. I didn't value myself, so I didn't know that I was worthy of love. In fact, I didn't feel worthy of much. Because of that theme vibing in my life, I had high levels of anxiety, ate too much, drank too much, and was always feeling dramatic.

I went from being a certified personal trainer to spending most of my free time throwing back burgers and beer, laughing at the thought of the gym. In my mind, I'd been there, done that. I found people who were like me, who cheered me on by saying that we weren't getting any younger, may as well eat and drink whatever we want. Misery, my friends, does truly love company. What I found was that those years of throwing caution to the wind ended me up fat and unhappy, looking at myself in the mirror and not recognizing the face before me. My jeans kept sizing up, up, up.

I met my husband, the most wonderful man in the world, at a time when I was kinda finding my stride. I was on the upswing, in a way, but still unsure of how I wanted my life to be. I'd worked really hard at seeing myself for who I was and how I contributed to all that had happened in my life. I made choices that got me to the place I was at, and I had the power to fix them. I started running and doing yoga, I became more mindful about how I ate. I paid attention. I read a lot.

My husband was, and still is, my greatest supporter. He is always there for me, helping me stay focused and reminding me to love myself. But I do know that self-love is an inside job, and only I can make that happen.

Self-love + puppy love = happiness

About six months before we got married, my friend Kelly (who was studying to be a nutritionist), helped us with a food plan to help get our bodies wedding ready. It was a practical plan and it worked. We went back to the gym, to boot camp, yoga, and started running once again. It was a strong time in our lives. I lost about thirty pounds. Since then, I have gained back about ten pounds. It's not the worst thing, but it's not the direction I intended to go. I just couldn't figure out what to do. I had developed hallux rigidus which made yoga very difficult to do. Some days, even walking is painful. I remember going into a downward facing dog and out of nowhere came the most awful pain in my big toe. I had no idea what had even caused it. Brutal. Following that, I had some weird symptoms that lead to lots of doctor's visits, testing and bloodwork, and at the end of it all, an elevated RA Factor. They weren't sure if it was from my pre-existing Hashimoto's Disease or if it was something else (rheumatoid arthritis? fibromyalgia?). There is more, but I am already boring myself with the details, so I must get to the point...

Life is what you make it. At 47, I had two options: to decide that I'm just not getting any younger and just throw in the towel, or get my life back. I chose the second option. I changed the way that I ate, reprioritized my life, and started to turn towards healthy things and people. That was in January. As of now, I am down over 10 lbs., my stiff joints are less painful (and not stopping me), and I am focusing on the positive and finding new paths to health.

Today, taking a page from my husband's television world, I made a video of myself planking. (Okay, I made three but the first two stunk so three time's a charm! P.S. the first plank I did was 2 minutes long, I SWEAR). I did this video for accountability and honesty. Maybe if someone sees a real post-menopausal woman, curvy and struggling but giving it her best shot, they will be motivated to do it, too.

Don't laugh, but DO share positive vibes!

Video! Eeeek!

Chicken in the Crock

I have no idea why I've got such an urge to cook, but it's happening. The scallion and corn chowder got me started, and now I'm whipping up soups nightly (keep posted for my carrot and apple soup recipe).

A friend of mine was telling me that she puts her chicken in the crock pot with hot sauce and leaves it until it falls apart. Then she shreds it and uses it as a form of buffalo chicken. I thought it was a great idea, but by the time I got to King's, I decided to make something different entirely. I love when chicken is draped in peppers and onions, and other wonderful things (to make me forget I'm eating chicken). So I decided to do that.

This recipe prep took about 5 minutes, and it needs 6 - 8 hours in the crock pot on low, or 4 hours on high.

Everything but the chicken and stock. I put the chicken in last and then mixed it with my hands, covering the chicken. Last, I added the stock.

What you'll need:

• 2 garlic cloves, smushed
• 1 lb. chicken breasts (about 4 breasts)
• 6 oz. your favorite salsa
• 1/2 yellow onion, chopped 
• 1 orange pepper, sliced 
• 6 jalapeño wheels
• 1/2 c chicken stock
• 3 slices of lime
• cilantro for topping

Pour everything into the crock pot and cook on low for 6 - 8 hours, or on high for 4 hours. Serve over brown jasmati rice (or your choice of rice) with black beans.

Mexican Chicken in the Crock

I have no idea why I've got such an urge to cook, but it's happening. The scallion and corn chowder got me started, and now I'm whipping up soups nightly (keep posted for my carrot and apple soup recipe).

A friend of mine was telling me that she puts her chicken in the crock pot with hot sauce and leaves it until it falls apart. Then she shreds it and uses it as a form of buffalo chicken. I thought it was a great idea, but by the time I got to King's, I decided to make something different entirely. I love when chicken is draped in peppers and onions, and other wonderful things (to make me forget I'm eating chicken). So I decided to do that.

This recipe prep took about 5 minutes, and it needs 6 - 8 hours in the crock pot on low, or 4 hours on high.

Everything but the chicken and stock. I put the chicken in last and then mixed it with my hands, covering the chicken. Last, I added the stock.

What you'll need:

• 2 garlic cloves, smashed
• 1 lb. chicken breasts (about 4 breasts)
• 6 oz. your favorite salsa
• 1/2 yellow onion, chopped 
• 1 orange pepper, sliced 
• 6 jalapeño wheels
• 1/2 c chicken stock
• 3 slices of lime
• cilantro for topping

Pour everything into the crock pot and cook on low for 6 - 8 hours, or on high for 4 hours. Serve over brown jasmati rice (or your choice of rice) with black beans.

Stolen Scallion and Corn Chowder Recipe by Tiffany Curren

I've recently had the joy of being humbled by a soup so amazing that I'd travel three hours to experience it again. It was a special at the Oyster Club in Mystic, CT, where all the food is farm to table. In fact, during the summer, the menu changes daily, based solely on what is freshest and available. The chef even butchers his own meat. When I saw scallion and corn chowder on the menu, it sounded so interesting... but for a summer soup, it also sounded heavy. I asked about the base of the chowder, and our waitress, Drew, told me that it was mostly the pureed vegetable, and just a tiny bit of cream. It sounded lovely, and since it was vegetable (not cream) based, I gave it a try. Suffice it to say, I might have embarrassed myself with all the gushing I did over this appetizer. 

After returning home, I sent a message to the restaurant asking to please share the recipe. It's been two weeks and I haven't heard back, so I decided to attempt it myself. I remembered what Drew told me and tried to replicate it.

To make the soup a little looser than the uber-thick pureed vegetables, I used some of the water from the boiled the corn (bought frozen corn -- I'm sure fresh would be much better) as a base. I added cream, but in such a small about, it's almost negligible. My seat-of-my-pants recipe was so easy and so tasty, I can hardly believe I created it. I am no chef, but I'll say that this recipe makes a sweet, and slightly spicy soup (the spice comes at the tail end of the flavor, and might go unnoticed -- feel free to add more). I'll note that I didn't add salt to the recipe, but I added it to my bowl and definitely think it enhances the flavor, so feel free to salt to taste.

Stolen Scallion and Corn Chowder

This is a simple recipe. I made enough to feed an army, I'd say 12 bowls worth, and I did it so that I could put the remaining soup in jars in the freezer (I love convenience). Feel free to split the recipe in half. To make this, you will need two pots and a blender (I used my Nutribullet, and blended in three batches).

In one pot, combine the water and the frozen corn and cook until it's hot. Add freshly grated nutmeg. 

Water, corn and freshly grated nutmeg.

The freshly grated nutmeg is far and away better than the pre-grated. If you don't use fresh grated, I'd omit it entirely.

While the corn is boiling, put the butter in the other pot on low to medium heat and sauté the white part of the scallions (and a few green stems, for color) until soft. It's not too important how well it's cut, because it's all going to blend into a puree. Add the jalapeños and the cilantro and allow to sit and cool.

I did this in batches, because I didn't know how much I'd need. Your pot should be three times fuller.

Blend the butter pot with the corn, adding the half and half and some water from the pot. That's it. Simple!

What you'll need:

• 32 oz. (2 lbs.) frozen corn (or fresh equivalent)
• 9 thick scallions
• 8 jalapeño slices/wheels
• 6 T butter
• 3 T half and half
• handful of fresh cilantro
• 1 t freshly grated nutmeg
• salt, to taste

And if you are planning a trip to Mystic, be sure to reserve a table at the Oyster Club. You will not be disappointed. 

Aging Isn't a Four Letter Word

Tomorrow, I will be 46 years old. I've been easing myself into the idea for the past few weeks stating, often at the beginning of sentences, that I'm 46. To some degree, this is a comfort to say, knowing that I am really not there yet, toes in the water without the full plunge. It's just another day. But truly, it marks the last year of me being in my mid-40s and that is a hard pill to swallow.

Things change as we get older. Already, I've noticed that my skin is less elastic, wrinkles are starting to seep from the outer corners of my eyes, and when I look in the mirror, I really see a middle aged woman. I'm not fighting that, but accepting it isn't something that I've learned to do, either. I notice changes in actresses who I've watched through the years, those whose ages hovers around mine; Christina Applegate the young tart from the t.v. show Married with Children, took me by surprise in the movie, Vacation, presenting with crow's feet and aging skin. She is definitely beautiful, but looks her age, and she is younger than I am. So, where exactly does that put me?

This photo, from the Laney Gossip site, shows Applegate at the Vacation premiere.
She's gorgeous, and she is also showing signs of getting older naturally.

In the same movie, Beverly D'Angelo made a cameo appearance and was hardly recognizable. The amount of work she has had done to her face made me feel so sad, and truthfully, she was tough to look at. She didn't look younger, she just looked like an older woman who'd had a lot of work done.

These side by side photos of Beverly D'Angelo, regardless of the years between the time they were taken, show a different woman. It's not the age that's gotten me, it's that she doesn't even have the same face.

I've never been under the knife, for anything other than skin cancer, and I cannot imagine spending the money, or taking the risk to do so, electively. While I would like firmer skin, or to erase the lines that are beginning to creep up, I won't be doing it by way of plastic surgery.

The biggest thing, for me, is to get to a place of acceptance. I'm taking care of myself, eating healthy, exercising, and getting plenty of rest. I've started using a line of skincare to cleanse, moisturize, repair and protect my skin. I'm doing all that I can to put my best face forward. Beyond that, all I really need to do is be okay with the face that I see in the mirror. My husband always says that he wishes I could see myself the way that he sees me. I wish for that, too.

Inside, I have a fear that if I am too accepting of myself, I won't see all the bad things that other people see in me, and will be unprepared when someone makes a snide remark. I worry that if I am too self-accepting, I will let myself go, fall apart, and be an embarrassment to both myself and my family. On the flip side, the more that I worry, the more I have to worry about. I start to improve on how I look and then I think, just a little more and I'll be happy. But there is no end to that way of thinking. There will always be someone younger, fitter, prettier. Happiness will always elude me, if I base it on matching someone else's ideal of beauty.

The only way around all this, in my opinion, is to live in the spirit of gratitude. Instead of thinking about what I don't like, I have to start being grateful for what I do have. Rather than hate parts of my body, I will be grateful that I am healthy. I will focus on what's good and whole, and less on the things that I cannot change. And instead of looking in the mirror and judging myself, I will look at the faces of those that I love and be thankful.

The Trendy "I'm Thankful For" Status Update

I find copycat facebook status trends to be annoying. There's one that says something about getting in a sleeping bag and slathering oneself with butter, supposedly in support of breast cancer. There's another, posting solely what color bra you're wearing  in support of the cause. There are the trendy ones that beg for attention, stating something to the effect of I want to see who reads my facebook status, so if you do, post where we first met. All stupid, in my opinion.

There is one that I've liked and participated in for years though. It's the gratitude status that's posted daily beginning the first of November and leading up to Thanksgiving. I hadn't thought to do it this year, however, until divine intervention played a hand.

After a lovely dinner with my cousin T and her friend Lori, we were sitting in traffic when Lori remarked that she was enjoying the ride, and said something about learning patience. I asked her how something like this is learned. She admitted that it's a practice and isn't always perfect, but that she tries to think of all that she is thankful for instead of what's annoying her. She counts her blessings.

When you count your blessings, there isn't room for anything negative. Your mind cannot have two thoughts at once. In traffic, for example, instead of thinking about the traffic, you think instead about the blessing of being in a comfortable car, or sharing time with the people who are riding with you.

I've never been much of a replacement thinker. I've always allowed the thoughts that came into my mind to dominate the inner dialogue. My brain would play scenes and I would react, at least internally, to those thoughts. This is a very stressful way to live. After my night with Lori and T, I started applying the count my blessings practice, and I'm completely in love with reframing my thoughts. Still, it takes practice.

Last weekend, I lost my voice. I'd been run down, doing too much for everybody else and not enough for myself. My body decided that it was going to put a halt on that. Having no voice made it difficult to complain, fight, or do much of anything except rest and yield. Two days of yielding taught me that much of what I battle against on a daily basis is really not important. I don't need to correct the way that something is done, or share a pointless story. During those days, every word counted, because speaking was agitating my vocal chords, so the words I spoke needed to matter. I was forced to lean on others to help me communicate, and I had to find ways to have them hear me when I needed to be heard.

In the midst of my laryngitis, I awoke in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and immediately felt like my balance was compromised. I started to feel like I was at the tipping point of having vertigo. Vertigo is not fun. I've had it more than once, and it's by far one of the most awful things you can experience. I was scared. I went to my husband for comfort, and he sat with me, reassuring me that things would be alright. He would be there for me and take care of me, and he helped to calm me down. At that moment, as I feared the possibility that vertigo might return, I started to think that I would be so grateful if I woke up without vertigo. It wouldn't matter if my voice was still out, or if I felt congested. I just wanted to feel normal.

And there is was. Those grateful thoughts were the jumping point for me to count my blessings. I was blessed to be able to walk normally, to see things clearly. I was blessed to have a husband who would wake up at 3 a.m. with me, listen to my fears and calm them. I was blessed to have a messy house to clean, two wild dogs to walk, a healthy child to drive to school. I was blessed. I am blessed.

You are blessed, too.

I am sharing my blessings daily, and you are welcome to check them out on Instagram (follow me @domesticgoddessltd). I urge you to give yourself the gift of counting your blessings. Start today, and do it every day, as often as you can remember. It's a life changing experience.

A Daily Dose of Dog Walking

There is nothing like the love of a dog... except maybe the love that we have for our furry friends. My two dogs, Sugar and Rocco, are potentially the only beings on the planet that love me unconditionally and without judgement, and they provide a comfort that no human can rival. I absolutely treasure them and wish to provide them with all the good things I am able.

In much the same way that parents hire babysitters and nannies to care for their children, dog owners must do they same for their pups. It's no small task, watching and caring for a dog (or two or three) and it's important that we find people that we trust.

My schedule has grown hectic, and though I work mostly from home, I find that I am out for hours at a time while my pups are stuck in the house. Sometimes it's for work, other times I am just running around with the kids, at football games or track meets. I don't want to worry that my poor dogs are sitting in a dark house, or haven't been out for a potty break. In my opinion, they deserve love, some fresh air, and the chance to relieve themselves at least once during the hours that I am away. I began looking into having a daily dog walker for my little ones, and found that help was right around the corner.

There is a local business called Helping Hand Pet Care Services that's run by a woman named Patrice Petronaci. Patrice is a total gem at working with dogs. Sugar, who can at times be skittish, was completely at ease when Patrice visited our home. What's great is that her services are specifically geared towards daily walks, so you can get your dog on the schedule and not worry about any conflicts. In addition, your dog(s) get to know her, and the walk is part of their daily routine. It's a treat to look forward to. And at rates that hover around $18 per walk, it's a totally affordable service.

It's also great for people who might be home but would prefer to contract the job out to someone else (ah, one walk that you can let someone else handle... especially with cold weather ahead). Yes, please!

If you haven't yet tried it, having a regular dog walker is a great thing. It provides consistency, routine, and exercise that your dog craves. Since she is coming into your home and taking care of your beloved pets (she takes care of other animals, too), it's important to choose wisely. If you are in the area, I highly suggest giving Patrice a call. She will come out and meet your mutt(s), and do a free evaluation, based on what you're looking for and how many animals* she will be taking good care of while you are out.

Helping Hand Pet Care Services is available for those living in Mountain Lakes, Boonton Township, Boonton, Denville, Lake Parsippany, Rockaway, and the surrounding area.

Call Patrice at 973-229-5968 to schedule a time to meet and get started!

*Patrice also cares for cats, birds, bunnies and other sweet creatures. Just ask!

Small Town Takeover

When you're here, you're home.
The Red Barn restaurant

Not everyone lives in a small town. Those of us that do know both the up and the downsides to small town life. The perks are huge. People know your dogs, your kids, and are always looking out for their well being. There are lots of community events, both at the schools and through the town hall, that are either free, or that benefit some aspect of the town. 

I've noticed that, lately, things here are starting to change. Our post office is nothing like what it used to be. Just a year ago, it was a place where people talked as they waited in line, where the clerks knew the locals and would talk to them about their lives, asking how they've been, and sharing stories. I knew that when my letter crossed the desk and went into a bin, it was in good hands.

Now, though they still manage PO boxes and take mail, our mail goes to a neighboring town where it's sorted and put on the truck to go to Newark. It used to be that when I'd send mail in town, it would be there the very next day. It went from my hands to the post office and then out for delivery. Now, it leaves and goes to the neighboring post office, and then to Newark? Ridiculous, and what a waste of gas. While it would be just as easy for me to drop at a friend's house, I like the idea of sending stamped, postmarked mail, and it saddens me to know that, despite my efforts to save our post office, this has happened. I miss my old mail carrier, Rob, who stood with me while I was on the phone with my doctor waiting to see if I had a brain tumor, and who hugged me as I cried tears of relief and said, "I'm okay". I miss going into the PO building and listening to Ferdie sing, or chat with Gabi as she would go through my packages. Alas, the wheels are in motion.

There are other things that could slip into the same role, if we don't pay attention, and I think it's important that we guard them. Our police department currently has dispatch (I think) during the day, but on the off hours, our calls go to another town, 20 minutes away. This was done in an effort to save money. I miss calling and asking who's on, when I have a less than emergency call but just need a little help. Fortunately for us, our police officers are still widely available and helpful, and have an active knowledge of our community. They talk to the kids as they walk home from school, and are sure to be familiar with residents in town. On Halloween, the town closes streets to car traffic so that kids can walk without worry while trick or treating. The police are here to help redirect lost children, answer questions, and let the kids know that they are here for them.

We have a great pharmacy here, too, that's independently owned. The pharmacy, Preston Drugs, will deliver your prescriptions to your home (or your car, if you prefer) so you don't need to get out in bad weather or if you are sick. Still, people choose to go to big box pharmacies, which I don't understand. Now that A&P is closing, the opportunity for people to move their prescriptions to a local, smaller drugstore is available (don't allow them to transfer to Walgreen's just because they'll do it for you, please). Preston has a tab on their website that will help you transfer your prescriptions. Another local option is Main Pharmacy in Boonton. Though I am not familiar with it, it's been in town forever and is a favorite of many locals.

Small shops are what keeps the American dream alive. Say what you will about that dream being dashed -- I know what you are thinking -- but this is still our country and we have the power to make big changes.

Instead of going to chain restaurants, go to indie owned places. We have some great restaurants around here, including Hapgood's in Mountain Lakes, The Reservoir Tavern (locally known as the Res) in Parsippany, Matta Donna in Boonton, and both The Red Barn (breakfast and lunch) and 900* in Towaco.  Rather than shopping online or at the mall, take your business to great places like Simplify Marketplace, which is owned by ML resident Beth Moran. They have pretty much everything you'll ever need, including home goods, personalized stationary, hand made items, jewelry, accessories, Laker apparel, and baked goods. In Denville, you can get home goods and ladies' apparel at two shops on the same block, owned by the Olenowski sisters: Surprises In Store, and Sisters. For footwear, I personally love Shoe & Sneaker Barn (also in Denville). The point is that there are so many opportunities to support our small towns that it would be silly not to. 

And finally, if you are able, please mail cards! Notes, birthday greetings, holiday greetings. Maybe our post office is changing, but let's not allow the art of letter writing/card sending fall by the wayside.

It's so important to nurture and support the places and people that bring joy to your life. Look around and see what it is that you love about the place that you live, then be sure to put your attention there. It's truly the little things, that we sometimes overlook, that we would miss the most if they were gone. Be proactive and keep them strong. Shop local.

Before Sunrise

I've never been a morning person. Ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you (fearfully) that it's true. After giving birth to my son, people were convinced that I'd get up early. The baby would force it. Babies get up early, they said.  My son is my only child, so I had the luxury of sleeping when he slept. The house went to pot, but I was a well-rested mother. While I would be forced to wake up early, I'd nap with the baby, every few hours, so it didn't matter much. When he gave up his naps, I began putting him to bed at 11 p.m. so he (we) could sleep 'til mid morning. 

When he started nursery school, I put him in the half day classes that started at noon. Same for kindergarten. First grade was rough for both of us, with an 8 a.m. homeroom bell, and he was late more often than he was on time. Slowly, I adjusted and got up, fed my son, and got him to school. It was no easy task and it's not been pretty.

All these years later, our two dogs need an early morning walk each day. My husband has taken on the duties of that walk, citing my angry morning demeanor as the reason he'll lose sleep to get it done. I'm up to take my son to school, but the dogs want to go out before we leave, so it would require me getting up an extra half hour early.

It wasn't until this weekend that I decided it was time for me to put my big girl pants on and start waking up earlier. It was a tough choice, because it means that I will be going to bed before my husband gets home, which cuts into our couple's time. I've tried to wait up at night for my husband, who works until nearly midnight, but in that circumstance, both of us are exhausted, and it's just not healthy.

Setting this alarm was tougher than it was for me to wake up to it.

I told him it was time that I start getting up to walk the dogs. He was hesitant. No way did he want to deal with me, grumpy, each morning. Begging him to give me a chance, I told him I'd go to bed early so that I wasn't mean and exhausted in the a.m. He agreed to give it a shot.

Last night, Night One, I was in bed by 10 p.m. and falling asleep close to 11. It was a major change and boy, am I tired. But I did it. It was nice. The sun was just coming up, during the dogs' walk, and the day felt fresh. I woke twice during the night, at 3:30 a.m. and nearly 5, probably because my body has gotten so used to so little sleep. Ironically, I was surprised that I didn't oversleep, and that it took until late afternoon for me to feel, well, exhausted. 

My husband got the opportunity for a full 8 1/2 hours sleep, which made me feel like a better wife, knowing that he isn't sacrificing his sleep; our time together (though a little less) was wonderful. He was productive, not exhausted, and we both seemed to be more present.

Tonight is Night Two, and I am hoping that my commitment to the early to bed mentality remains strong. 

Are you a morning person? Getting into the groove isn't easy, so I'd love to hear your tips for happy morning wake-ups.

Cost < Reward

Kids aren't cheap. We all know this. In the past two weeks, I've spent more money on compression shorts, pants, and both long and short sleeved Nike Pro apparel for my son than I care to tally. Tonight I didn't have to do the math; the tally was presented to me by the Dick's cashier who asked if I wanted to charge the whooping $165 I'd racked up on the few items I bought for my son's cross country meet tomorrow. (It's going to be cold, so we needed long everything.)

After leaving Dick's, I stopped into the grocery store to buy him a 12-pack of Horizon single serve chocolate milk cartons (his post-run beverage that he shares with his friends), some Clif bars, and string cheese. While checking out, I requested a measly $20 in cash back, asking the cashier if she could give me a ten and two fives. She looked bothered at the thought of breaking it down as per my request. "If I have it in the drawer" she snipped. I apologetically (and sort of casually) explained that it was for my son to have at his meet tomorrow, in the event that he wanted to buy a snack. "If I give him a twenty, he'll spend the whole thing," I said.

It struck her, a mother's plight. She started to talk about how costly it is to raise kids. She didn't say this with anger or resentment, but from a place of knowledge. She explained that she is the mother of four children, and she works two jobs just to pay for their college tuitions, and to live. Her eldest daughter finished medical school and is currently an internist, her second youngest son is now starting the master's part of his medical degree. She has one son in the military, and one who is going to County (she pulled him out of his original university, despite his scholarship, after seeing that he was partying too much and fearing for his well-being). She told me that she recently said to her son, the one that's in med school, that once he gets a job, he and his sister (the other doctor) will have to take care of her financially, because she's sick of working two jobs. She said this with a laugh. It was clear that she'd do anything for her kids. In fact, she already has.

The job of a parent is a big, important one.

There are many parents I know who put themselves before their children. They take money that would be used for their kids, and put it towards the things that they want for themselves. They choose to do things socially that sacrifice the time they have with their children. They believe that it's their time to live their lives. But what about their kids, the ones who need to be raised and guided? When people choose to have children, they should commit to raising them for 18 years, being present and available. In the grand scheme of things, it's a short period of time. Those 18 years of raising (the good, the bad, and the plain old gnarly) are a gift that we, as parents, are fortunate to have. Our kids will grow up, move out, and have their own life, just like we do. We want them to answer our phone calls, choose to visit, and most importantly, to look back fondly at their childhood.

What could possibly be more important than that?

When Thinking Pink Means More Than Jumping On the Bandwagon

You don't want to wait until you find a lump in your breast to get a mammogram. If you haven't gone for your mammogram, you are from one of two schools of thought: it won't happen to me, or it will happen to me and I don't want to know.

I understand. At 44, I took my mammogram script and put it in my purse, where it quickly got swallowed up by the vast mess of papers, receipts, and wrappers. I was engaged, and that took precedence over a mammo appointment, in my mind. It was forgotten.

I once 'boobicon'ed my Facebook profile picture in support of breast cancer awareness.
Getting a mammogram would have been more proactive.

The following year (this year), I went for my annual exam, got another script, and lost it in the same way that I lost the previous year's script. I knew, though, that I needed to get my mammogram, so I called the office to get another one, this time with my married name on the script.

I sat on it for a few weeks. I'd get the mammo done, I would. But the thought of scheduling it, making time for the appointment, taking a shower and not putting on lotion or deodorant... such a pain to deal with. That is, until I found a lump.

I was getting out of bed, and the right side of my right breast felt tender and sore. Being post-menopausal, I knew it wasn't premenstrual breast tenderness, or a clogged milk duct, but it felt like that kind of pain. I put my hand to the soreness and whoosh, there it was. A lump.

Wait. What? This could not be. I just had a breast exam three months ago. And yet.

I freaked. I woke my husband up. "Feel" I said. "There's a lump." And when he nodded yes and said "It's probably a cyst", I started to cry. He felt it, too. It was real.

Breast cancer awareness month was approaching, which ironically only made matters worse. Everywhere, there were stories about lumps and prevention, both good and bad stories, and I just wanted to know that I was okay. I'm okay, right?

I called the imaging center immediately for an appointment, but when they heard I had a lump, they wouldn't book it. They told me that I needed a script for an ultrasound, as well as the mammogram script. "So when you call with a lump, you can't get in for a mammogram?", I asked.  It seems counterintuitive. I called my doctor's office four times before I got a nurse on the phone to ask her for a script for an ultrasound. "I am a 45 year old, post-menopausal woman with a lump. I know that I am not the most pressing or important patient in your office, but I'm scared," I said. The nurse understood and immediately got on it.

My appointment was booked for two weeks from that day. And today the two weeks are up. It's finally time for me to know what's going on. Hopefully, it's nothing, and I'll have learned to put my health first and get that yearly mammogram.

But for now, I don't know what will happen, or what is ahead, and frankly, I am scared. Really, really scared. For the people who think it won't happen to them, I ask, "Then, who?" But I am supported. My husband is nothing short of a saint, and he's always here for me. I have good friends, a few of whom are cancer survivors, all of whom will lend a listening ear. I have a supportive loving family.

And hopefully, I have nothing. Nothing more than a benign cyst. Or lumpy breasts.

But now, I don't know. I won't until I go to my appointment and the radiologist does whatever she does to let my doctor know what's up.

And if it turns out that I am A-OK, I will take my health more seriously, eat better, exercise more. I will advocate for women to get routine mammograms, even if doing so seems to be a pain in the neck. Because while taking the time out to go for a mammogram may be inconvenient, it may also be saving your life.


Note: I am writing this in the hopes that women feel moved to schedule their mammograms, and that they do self-breast exams. I am also sharing my story so that people understand that the process to getting checked sometimes takes drastic findings. I am not writing my story to have people stop me and inquire as to how I am doing, and while I appreciate your concern, I prefer to hear from you via message. Thank you.

The Comfort of Dogs

All the love in the world.

There is something about the love of a dog that is completely unexplainable. It's nothing they do, per say, that is particularly helpful to daily living. They don't talk, or offer words of advice when life's got you down. They require lots of care, their poops must be picked up, and they are always, always, like toddlers.

And yet, when things aren't going well, when you're feeling sad, or frustrated or scared, nothing beats cuddling up with a mutt.

Ah, a life with dogs. Pictured here: Rocco & Sugar.

We've got two. Sugar, a  black lab/American bulldog mix, and Rocco, a jack russell/rat terrier mix. When my son and I rescued Sugar, she was about a year and a half old. Her black fur was thick with dandruff, and she smelled. She had an episode of diarrhea as we were driving her home from her adoption, and she attempted to cover the pile with the few treats we'd given her. At some point in her life, she'd run from her foster home and had been hit by a car, causing her to endure a handful or surgeries for the five months prior to my meeting her. Sugar was terrified of her own shadow. Somehow, she knew we'd take good care of her, and she tried to settle in. She wasn't much of a cuddler, but when I found myself alone at night, she'd come onto the couch where I was sitting, and lay beside me. Slowly, she'd nudge me to the edge of the couch, and I'd hang tight, nosing my face into her warm fur.  Just having her there made me feel safe. Occasionally, she's put her nuzzle onto my lap and sigh. Something about her trusting me made me feel worthwhile and loved.

Sugar's the quiet one.

After a year of Sugar living with us -- only eating when being hand fed raw meat, running from the littlest noise, and pacing the house but never really relaxing unless she was in her crate -- it was brought to my attention that she might need a pal, another dog to help her relax and come out of her shell. I searched Petfinder.com for a dog that seemed like s/he might be a good fit. There were so many cute dogs, and truly, what did I know about finding a pal for Sugar? Her easy going demeanor made it easy for her to get along with any dog, but would any dog be kind to her? I wanted the best fit but had no idea how to find that.

The Petfinder listing that stole my heart. 

After meeting a few dogs, who were rescued before I even had a chance to apply for them, I ended up with Rocco (who was named Bastin, before we changed his name). A little ratter, with the biggest ears I'd ever seen, seemed to be the one. He'd been living in a foster home with 13 other dogs his whole life. So, dog friendly for sure. Ah, what profiles don't tell. He barked and barked and barked, and if anyone tried to pick him up, he gnarled and bit them. But we'd already taken him, and were committed to making it work.

Sugar and Rocco became fast pals. And despite Rocco's (still) incessant barking and occasional grumpy nipping, he's become the furry love of my life. Having both dogs has changed everything. They are entertaining, wonderful to snuggle up to, interesting to watch, and something about their presence simply calms me.

They love each other.

I wish I knew why. I have an amazing husband who is everything to me. He's loving and attentive, and provides an indestructible support for my life. My son, and my three stepchildren, are wonderful bundles of energy, full of stories and laughter. They keep us busy and always make things interesting. But something about those dogs...

When they are jumping at the door, barking at visitors, squirrels, cars, etc., comfort is not the word that comes to mind. Their canine demands are less than inviting. I command them, unsuccessfully, to Shush! then proceed to roll my eyes and wish they would just. be quiet.  And when I am holding both leashes in one hand while using the other to unceremoniously pick poops up off the lawns of neighbors, well, I could live without those moments. But when they look up at me with those sweet wide eyes, mouths agape, tongues wagging, the feeling of complete unconditional love emanates from them.

Wag goes the tongue.

Perhaps that's it. No matter how I look, what kind of mood I am in, or how I'm behaving, my dogs' loyalty is consistent. They always want me to run my hand across their back, tug on their ears, or cuddle up beside them on the couch. It's a total acceptance of who I am, and that is by far the most comforting feeling in the world.

Through the Trees

I wasn't raised to incorporate exercise into my life. Even now, with a gym membership, yoga classes, boot camp, and a town ripe with runners, getting motivated to workout isn't easy. There are people who wake up, hop out of bed and go to the gym, or for a run, and that's how they start their day. Exercise, for that type of person, is as necessary as oxygen.

Most people that I know use exercise as a means to maintain or lose weight, but in truth, proper exercise is beneficial for the body's long term (and even daily) living. We all know this, but since the long term benefits don't satisfy our immediate gratification need, it gets lost in translation.

While visiting Disney World this past spring, my stepdaughter and I both noticed how many overweight people were zipping through the parks in motorized chairs, many of whom had extra large sugary drinks in their hands. It's this very thing that keeps me motivated; the fear of not being able to do things without assistance. I don't know what's ahead for me, regarding my health, but I am going to do my best to lay solid groundwork.

There is an online 30 day squat and plank challenge run by Mirzuk Fitness that I've signed up for, and part of the point of the daily practice is that it takes 30 days to make a habit. While habits can be broken, I am banking on this habit building premise to give my son a more fit life that with which I've been presented.

School was not in session today, and my son had afternoon plans to go into the city with his father to get his ID card for art school. This meant no afternoon cross country practice. I asked his trainer if we could maximize the morning hours by having him run with my son. The location he chose was a county park in town. It's got miles of trails, a great place to run.

The beginning of the path my son ran with his trainer this morning. Total, complete heaven on earth.

While they ran, I did my squat and plank challenge workout, then read a few pages from a book I'm reading for a study group. The park was quiet, with dogs and runners passing only occasionally. Though it was cool, the sun shone down through the trees. I thought about the gift my son has been given, a morning run with his trainer, Jeff Eades, someone who's run ultramarathons and serves as a (very cool) mentor to my son. I hope that, years from now when he is heading out for a run, he'll remember this morning run as the one that got him into the habit.

The Best of You

Life isn't about the finish line, it's about the path you take to get there.

After posting my last blog entry, Keep the Good Ones, Ditch the Rest, I got a slew of messages and comments about the topic. The comments ranged from "I completely agree," to "Lighten up". All of the responses were great because they helped me see the perspective of others, but none changed the way that I feel.

Honoring our lives means many things. It means getting enough sleep, eating healthy foods, exercising, feeling love, having friendships and just enjoying life. It also means, at least to me, minimizing drama as much as possible. I am not filming for a Housewife series, which means I am not getting paid to up ratings by including myself in circles with unhealthy people. On more than one occasion, I've had to make something up and excuse myself from a lunch/dinner/situation where I felt the direction had taken a turn for the worse. I am fast becoming a self-preservationist.

Last week, my close friend asked me to take a seven week TRX group training session with her, at our gym. It was the last thing that I wanted to do (my past TRX experience had been awful), but I agreed to do it because it gives me the opportunity to see her while getting a workout. We've talked while walking beside each other on the treadmill, or while curling dumbbells, but in those situations, the intensity of my work is self-directed (meaning, it's easier to do less). Group training includes a forced push by the trainer, and peer accountability. Today, the group training began. I had a morning packed with things to do, including sending out emails to everyone participating in a fundraiser with which I am involved. One hour before the group training began, my friend sent me a text that read "One hour! Woot woot!" Though I hadn't yet paid, and technically could have backed out, I committed to my friend and told the trainer I'd be there. It was up to me to stay true to my word, even though at that moment it was tough. As I chugged my coffee and scooped back my oatmeal, I thought to myself, "This TRX idea was stupid," and also "I need to get more sleep."

I arrived at the gym, and saw my friend's happy smile when she'd seen that I made it to class. I talked to the trainer about past TRX experience and injuries, and we began. An hour on the clock. It wasn't easy. We warmed up with more squats than I thought humanly possible. I wondered if I'd be sore for yoga tomorrow. I wondered what my husband was doing in the weight room. I wondered if I should drink more water. And then the wondering stop. The work became more difficult, and each accomplished task gave me a feeling of pride. I focused on my body, my muscles, and felt good about the work. This TRX class, as it turns out, was a really good idea.

I got back into yoga in much the same way. My friend Tray had been going for about a year, each week inviting me to join her. While I have always loved yoga, I hadn't practiced for a while and felt uncomfortable getting back on the mat, fat and out of shape. In a moment of weakness - or perhaps strength - I agreed to go, and there it was. I couldn't back out. A year and 30 lbs. lighter, I am fully committed to my twice weekly practice.

Me with my friend Tray, after practicing yoga on the lake together, the morning of my wedding.

It's amazing what happens when you find something that changes the way that you feel, whether it be about your day, your life, or most importantly, yourself. Not only did I get to spend an hour with my friend and work out with her (which is motivating because she is a powerhouse), I also learned that getting back to hard working exercise made me feel good about me.

And that's what yesterday's post was all about. It wasn't about other people being bad or failing me, it was about choosing to create a life that supports me at my best, so that I feel good about myself.


I will start sharing links again on the DG Files facebook wall so that it's easier for people to comment. Follow me there, by clicking here.