“Why are you fat, Mommy?”

I have said this before and I will say it again, my son is honest, candid, and doesn’t intentionally mean to be hurtful.  Keeping this in mind, it is still extremely hard when he asks such personal questions.

Two years ago, after my husband lost 50 pounds on his mail route, my son started asking me, “Why are you fat and the rest of us are thin?”  I would look at my small plate, with the smallest portions in the family, and say, “I don’t know.”

Last year, when I found two exercise classes that I loved, and committed to, he asked, “If you exercise, and eat healthy, then why are you still fat?”

Once again, my response would be, “I don’t know.”

“Why should I exercise if I can still be fat?”  He inquired.

“Because even if I don’t look the way I want, I want my body to be healthy.  When I get tests done at the doctor, my blood says that I live a healthy lifestyle.  I don’t know why I still look like this.” I said on my lips, but inside I cried.

Anyway, through my weight loss journey, my kids have watched me.  They have seen me come home from the gym sweaty.  They see what I eat, and they notice that they eat more than me.  They noticed right away when I quit eating gluten (wheat products), and they ask lots of questions along the way.  We are glad they ask questions, because we share genetics.  Who is to say they won’t have their own fitness journey someday.

This week, I learned the importance of working out in front of my kids.  I love my spinning and Body Pump classes, but I needed more exercises in my week that worked with my new work schedule.  Scott and I bought Insanity, so we could get toned together.  We have completed one month of this program, sweating, crying (at times), and getting through each intense workout.

The other morning, Scott wasn’t feeling well, and 5 minutes into one of the most intensive workouts I have ever done, he left me to do the hour-long workout ALONE.  I was sad and frustrated.  I tried to make my body do things that it has never done.

About 55 minutes into the workout, I was spent.  Done. Tired.  READY to be done.  It was too much.  Sweat was pouring off of my forehead.  I ran out of water ages ago.  Every single muscle in my body ached.

My over critical son, who is famous for pointing out the obvious walked into the room to watch me complete my workout.  I kept waiting for him to say something like, “You don’t do it as good as they do.”

INSTEAD he yelled, “YOU CAN DO IT, MOMMY!”

That’s all it took.  My muscles started working again, and I completed the last exercise before the cool down.  I finished the tape and have completed two more videos since that morning (with Scott).

My body might not be perfect.  I have MANY workouts before I am the size or the shape I want to be, but at least my kids KNOW how hard I am trying.  That is the lifelong lesson I want them to remember.

Advertisements

That Moment You Realize Your Life is a TV Show

I grew up loving The Cosby Show, The Facts of Life, and Growing Pains (Ok, I watched Full House too – don’t judge me!).  Then came the Wonder Years, Saved by the Bell, and eventually Friends.  In the early 2000s, when no one was watching sitcoms, I loved Scrubs.  (Scott and I still quote it on a daily basis.)  Now of course, I love The Big Bang Theory, Modern Family, Happy Endings, Whitney, and The Office.  Those shows make me laugh out loud.

I love to laugh.  I love happiness.  I love sitcoms.  I do, I really, really, really do.  There’s enough junk in life to take seriously, but give me 30 minutes in someone else’s reality, and that is 30 minutes in Heaven to me.  Of course, I don’t watch as many sitcoms as I would like each week, but when I do get to see them, the laughing makes my heart sing.

Sometime, in the past 24 hours, I realized something.  It’s not a huge something or a profound something, and if I were a comedic blogger I would even know how to make this funny to anyone other than me.

I am not sure if I realized it when I caught my 7-year-old son, watching election coverage while reading his Presidential Encyclopedia for fun.

Maybe I realized this when my husband decided to actually do some housework at the idea that someone might come over and see the wreck we live in.

Could I have realized it this morning when my daughter chose this as her outfit?  Of course, this was compromise after a few wardrobe changes.  (She has her own style that is for sure!)

Or maybe, it had something to do with me, running around, trying to find everyone, feeling like I am in a constant state of wreck and disorganization.  Seriously, some days I think I am one small step away from a real nervous breakdown.  Why?  Who knows?  I think it’s because I am actually crazy, but everyone is too nice to tell me.

Anyway, when you put our family’s quirks together, but take away a “cool jock” you will see that we are the Hechts through and through.

Old Picture from this summer 🙂

While we dream of the perfect vacation or holiday, no trip is complete without a real misadventure or “lost in the Bronx” story.

The mom does too much for her family, is too involved with her kids, and is so annoying that I want to punch her in the face.

The dad, owns flannel and while he cares, he is work a lot of the time to get too personal with the family.  All he wants to do on a Sunday afternoon is watch football, and can sleep through the annoying noises of the kids.  In fact, he can sleep like a baby through almost anything.

The 8-year-old is a tad quirky, and loves to read.  He is interested in things like Presidents, politics, and grown up issues.  Has a tendency to get obsessed with silly ideas, but he has no idea that he’s obsessed.

The daughter ignores what others think about her.  She does her thing, has her own style, and is so happy in her own little world, she refuses to notice that she is a bit on the weird side.

Now, as you are reading this, you must be wondering, “Is she talking about the TV family or her family?”

See, there’s the thing, I don’t know….Was I describing the show or the real characters in my life?  Gosh, the two are so alike…

You take our quirks, put us in some obscure small town in the Midwest that no one actually cares about, you will see that we live in The Middle!

Halloween Festivities 2012

Ah, it’s November 1, and Halloween is FINALLY over.  I know, it’s one precious day, but for my kids, Halloween is pretty exciting.  It’s such an event that they start tossing around their ideas in July.  Sometimes, they even try to get us to buy their costumes in July, like we would ever actually do that!  Anyway, the holiday is over, and Ana says each year, “This is the best Halloween ever.”  It sure was.

For some reason Mario and Luigi are the favorite toys this fall, so naturally that is what they wanted to be for Halloween.  For a change, they wanted a theme, and man, it was cute.  I do hope this the ONLY time my daughter has a moustache, but that is neither here nor there.

Our first event this season was downtown trick or treating last Thursday night.  We had a wonderful time, despite it being the COLDEST October afternoon.  We met some friends downtown and stayed as a group, well, at least when Mario and Luigi weren’t ditching us we were a group.  The best thing about it was the kids were so ready to be done in less than hour, so we made out.

The Fall Festival at their school last Friday night was the second Halloween event this year.  Games with only the best Oriental Trading prizes, decorate your own cookie station, and of course, hot dogs for sale.  What else could a kid want?  This year, Papa spent the night that night, so he came with us to the festival.  It was really special since we don’t see Papa nearly enough, and the kids loved showing him their school.

Finally, last night: Halloween.  The night of the big event was finally here.  My kids came home from school, ignored their candy buckets, and promptly did their homework, for AN HOUR.  I stared at them in disbelief, but totally took advantage of their determination to be good.  Between dinner, and waiting for Scott to get off of work, we didn’t get out until around 7, which is late for us.  It was so cute watching the kids run up to the houses, get so excited about their bounty, and run back to us.  Of course, we figured out that there are a MILLION Halloween social rules, which as needed, we discussed EACH AND EVERYONE.  Trick or treating is hard work.

My heart stopped for a minute, when one little old lady answered her door with a HUGE book, that looked like a Bible.  I actually thought she was going to read them scripture as their treat, and was pretty scared until she opened the book, and handed each of the kids a small piece of candy.  Whew!  (Don’t get me wrong, I love the scriptures, I am not a fan of strangers sharing them with my kids.)  Only in the Midwest could that be an actual occurrence   Scott laughed me for a few blocks for that paranoia.

We live in a neighborhood with few treat givers, and few kids.  Needless to say, those that do hand out treats hand out a TON to each kid.  After about 5 blocks, and less than 20 houses, Ana declared that her bucket was too heavy and she was ready to go home.  We tried to bribe her with M&Ms, but she REALLY was done.  McCartney, who was loving the gathering part of the night, was NOT ready to go home.  Naturally, we split up.  Girls headed for home and the boys kept on trucking.

As soon as we arrived at home, Ana ripped off her costume, dumped out her bucket and started enjoying her bounty.  Minutes later the boys walked in, and my son emptied his bucket on top of Ana’s and dug in.  After about 15 minutes of chowing down, the McCartney said, “Well, Ana, it’s time we pick out our 5 pieces and put the rest in a bag to give away.”  (Which is something we had them do when they were younger, and we still do it occasionally, but we were not going to make them do it ON Halloween.)

“Ok.  Sounds good,” Ana replied.

Scott and I stared at them in disbelief.  ARE THESE OUR KIDS?  They LOVE everything sugar related, and we RARELY give it to them, and they have ACCEPTED the fact that while it is fun to have, there also comes a time when you need to be done.  They put their “Magic 5” back in their buckets, and asked us to please put them on top of the fridge, where they have been undisturbed since.  The rest of the candy they bagged up, and are excited for Scott to take it to work on Saturday.  Scott and I say, “Good riddance.”

Earlier Wednesday night, my son said, “Candy is my favorite part of Halloween.”

“I know you think it is, but it really isn’t your favorite part,” I told him.

He stared at me like I was crazy, however, he proved my point.  He might love the candy, but obviously collecting it is way more fun than actually eating it!

How was your Halloween?  What did you do?

We don’t need Pinterest, We need Memories

I use Pinterest, but I don’t love it. I think it’s a great place for recipes, and ideas, but honestly, I bet I don’t ever make any of those homemade presents I pin. And if I did, they would be so horrible, I couldn’t actually give them away without saying that Ana made them. Half the time, I avoid it because face it, you all pin flour laden, sugar filled desserts, which I can’t eat ever again. Anyway, enough about my opinion about Pinterest, I know so many people love it, and I am not bashing something I use. Secretly I am jealous of those of you who live in the Pinterest reality. 

The other day, Ana made a tissue ghost out of a sucker at a fall festival. Saturday, Ana sighed, “Maybe someday I can make another ghost.”

Suddenly, I was transported to Halloween decoration-making memories from my youth. I remember sitting at our kitchen table, stuffing tissues to make ghost heads, lovingly making scary faces on each decoration. My mom showed me how to make them, and she says, “I don’t have a creative bone in my body.” Before Pinterest, despite her non-creative mind, my mom taught me how to make ghosts.

“Ana, we don’t need suckers to make ghosts, all we need are tissues and string. We have those. Do you want to make some?”

“Uh huh.” We spent time making the ghosts together, just the two of us. It was so fun, we decided to make more crafts another day. I was tempted to go on Pinterest for ideas, but instead I went back to my memories. I remembered making witches in school, jack o’lanterns, and bats. I am sure there are a million better, more elaborate ideas on Pinterest, but why do those when the fun is I the creating, not the copying?

Today, we continued our craft time, my daughter had NO interest in my craft ideas. She spent the past few days coming up with her own ideas. I am so glad that I didn’t waste time pinning, and buying supplies for a craft my daughter didn’t actually want to do. She wanted art time with me, and I don’t need Pinterest to give her that. Our ideas might not “pinnable” special, but they are ours, and that is what makes them special to me.

Ups and Downs

I am tired.  I am really tired.  Not just the “I said yes too many times tired”, or “the list is too long tired”, or “the when will I ever get caught up tired”; but the my daughter kept waking me up every 15 minutes since 2:30am tired.  Combine all of those states of tiredness, and you have my mindset today.  I am trying to stay calm and happy, and just get through it, but grumpiness took over this morning.

After saying good-bye to my dad (I miss him so much!), getting Scott to work, and running to the store for the necessities for today, I started cleaning.  I admit, when I clean, I get grumpy.  I curse the family and their dirty ways.  I curse the pee all over the bathroom floor AGAIN (Am I the ONLY one who sees it?).  I silent curse everything.  Then I curse myself for being ungrateful for a house of joy and happiness.  I curse myself for being grumpy because I am busy because God is blessing me with work, passion, and opportunities.  I should have turned on music, because when I clean with music, no one gets cursed.

Anyway, as I was scrubbing, the dumbest thing happened.  My cell phone fell out of my pocket and landed on my toes.  For some reason it HURT, I mean HURT, and now, hours later, it STILL HURTS.  Seriously, a CELL PHONE.  How?  Anyway, I cried out in pain because it hurt so bad.  However, my kids didn’t come to see if I was OK.  From another room, I hear, “Mom, what happened?”  However, finding out if I was OK, was not as important as the book he was reading.

Really?  I haven’t taught my kids to drop everything when they hear a scream???  Is that something that is taught?  Are my kids becoming good people???  Feeling like a terrible mom, and so alone, I finish the housework and move on to the next item on my list.

My son, comes to me with his money.  He wants to earn more today.  “I will clean the bathroom, fold the towels, and wipe down the toilet for you,”  he offered.

“Well, I already cleaned the bathroom and toilet today, so you can’t do those things.  However, I am sure we will find some chores for you to do this weekend,” I offered.

“Oh, OK.”  He left the room.

A few minutes later, he returns with a dollar.  “Here, this is for you,” he said.

“Why?  Keep your money.”

“Well, you cleaned the bathroom, so someone should give you money.  Thank you.”

That one tiny gesture was bigger to me than pee on the floor, ignored cries, and all of the other failings I feel each day as a mom.  I am not perfect, and I am not doing this mothering thing well most of the time, however, every once in a great while I get a sign that maybe, just maybe I am doing something right.

Moment of Triumph

The other day, after work and a photo session, the kids and I had to wait for Scott at the park.  It has been extremely busy lately, and I am afraid that I have missed fall.  As we waited, I pushed aside my long to do list that was burning in the back of brain, and was present with my kids.   I am going to miss the next few years of their lives, if I am not careful.

The day was perfect.  The air was thin, but not too cool.  The leaves were bright, with some trickling off the trees, one by one.  I could have stayed at that park, with my kids for hours.  Being lazy, I sat down on a swing and started to move.  The next thing I knew, my son joined me, and he soared through the air.  Swinging has been one of his favorite activities since he birth.

Ana also hopped into the fun.  She has never had the desire to actually learn how to pump and keep herself going.  I have tried “tough love.”  You know, I say, “I will give you one push, and then you have to keep going.”  Well, being the charmer she is, she manages to compensate for my meanness, and always finds another kid, including her brother, to push her.  If she can’t con someone into helping her, she usually jumps off the swing and skips to another activity.  On this day, for some reason, I really wanted to swing.  I mean, I really wanted to put my desire to swing over her desire to join us.  However, I did give her the one push that my mean momma self gives her at the park.

At one point, I looked over at Ana and noticed that she was attempting to pump.  Her body swayed back and forth, her legs went forward and back, forward and back, forward and back…

“Mommy, I am moving by myself!  I am swinging all by myself!  I can do it!!!”  she exclaimed in her high-pitched-over-the-top excited voice.  She was moving ever so slightly, but moving all the same.  She didn’t give up and kept gaining speed, little by little.  Baby steps, but successful.

“Look at you go, Ana! I love how you are working so hard on moving your legs and your body!  Yay!”  I let out a huge sigh of relief, my little big girl was going to learn to swing by herself sooner than later.  YAY!

Magic happens in these little moments and I cherish them all.

Failure is Underrated

When I grow up and am in charge of the world, or at least when I can get others to listen to my strange ideas,  I want to teach people, especially my kids, how to fail. I think failing is underrated in this day and age, especially from those of us with big dreams, high goals, and almost unrealistic expectations for life.

“What do you mean? Don’t you want to succeed? Don’t you want your kids to be successful?” asked the skeptic.

My answer is simple, “Yes, I want to reach my dreams, I want success, and I want the ultimate happiness that Earth has to offer. I also want my kids to live a happy life, reaching for the sky. However, they will not get there if they don’t fail a few hundred times first. I firmly believe it, and little anyone can say will change my mind. The truly successful people in our world, learned how to make mistakes, and fail many times.

I don’t just want my kids to learn how to deal with failure, but I want them to know the heartbreak of it. I want them to feel those sad feelings of rejection, and cry the tears of disappointment. I will be there when they fall.  I will listen to their tears, anger and disappointment.  That is my job as their mom.  Then I want them to get over it, pick themselves up, and reassess what they could have done better. I want them to make a plan on how improve their past mistakes, and be even better than before.

It sounds cold, but when I look at how my life has improved because of my past failings, I can’t help but hope my kids know how to fail, just so they can succeed.

For years and years, I failed to lose weight no matter what I did. During my weight gaining/not losing process, I learned how to get up in the morning and work out. I learned how to get over the tired feeling, and which workouts I enjoy.  I learned the joy of completing a race, and that I can physically make my body do almost anything. I also learned the key for my body’s nutrition, and that is to get rid of gluten. I believe with my soul, that ten years of failing, is leading me to being healthy for the rest of my life, especially now that I am having weight loss success.  The mindset, “I can always lose this 5 pounds,” is dangerous, and I will never feel that way about weight loss.  I have failed too much, it’s time to succeed.

I failed to get a teaching job this spring/summer. This failure, opened me up to new opportunities. Because I wasn’t teaching, I able to have lunch with a friend. Over lunch, she told me about grad school. With a huge leap of faith, I enrolled in a wonderful program, that will lead me to the right job. Had I gotten a job, I would have ended up where I left off, which is not a good thing. Plus, I have wanted to get my masters for years, and now I am.  I love my schooling and the work that goes with it.  I finding this love of learning is feeding my soul and for the first time in years, I feel like I am moving forward to new and exciting territory.

I have failed at photography. I have always loved taking pictures since I got my first camera in first grade, but I never understood it. Once the digital age hit, I started taking even more pictures. I can’t even begin to count how many digital files I have wasted on a photography mistakes, nor do I can to even count the number of cameras I have gone through the past 7 years. However, now I know, what makes a good picture. I know how to capture the moment, and I know how to make it perfect, or at least represent the moment. Had photography been easy for me, I am sure I would not have learned the science of light. That has made all of the difference in my skills.

I have also made big mistakes out on photography jobs, those mistakes, which I have shed mountains of tears over, taught me how to fix my mistakes. Had I not messed up, my mind would not learn to check my settings, over and over again. I am confident in my skills, now that I have messed up, and learned how to fix it.  My lessons in photography have pushed me to learn more and more.  Now, I feel confident when schedule a photo session, and my heart sings even more when I process and can relive the love of a family again.  It is an amazing job, and I love it.

Yesterday morning, I awoke to an email explaining that I did not get a writing job. I had a moment of disappointment, but my second thought was, “How can I be better? How can I make my dreams come true, despite this unwanted feeling?” I know with my heart and soul that this rejection will lead me to something greater and bigger than I can imagine today. I just need to figure out how to learn, grow, and seek out the next opportunity.

I could go on and on about my failings. Few things in this world have felt easy for me, however, my struggles have led to lots of happiness. My life is better because I have failed time after time again.

So when my kids come home nd talking about how “easy” something was for them, I am slightly sad. I want them to work at a level that is hard, in a place where they might fail. I want them to learn rejection, so they can learn how to deal with it, instead of giving up. I want them to really understand that on the road to making their dreams come true, they might fail, but they will be better people for it.

Really successful people fail before they succeed. You don’t have to take my word for it, you can ask da Vinci, Steve Jobs, Dr. Seuss, Thomas Edison, Oprah…. The list goes on and on. Failure leads to learning, and life lessons lead to success.