Fat and Happy

Being happy makes you fat. I'm convinced.

Okay, okay. While I know that isn't really accurate, I think there is a grain of truth in that statement.

When a person is unhappy, they find something to throw themselves into. They need a distraction from their unhappiness. Many different things could be the source of that unhappiness... Family, friends, self image, relationships. But my hypothesis is that those who are single or that are stuck in an unfulfilling relationship tend to need somewhere to focus their pent up frustrations. This is where fitness comes in. Working out is SUCH an amazing stress release. Studies have shown that regular workouts can be just as effective as any medication that your doctor can prescribe you. The biggest side effect? A rockin body. Sweet, right? Totally. 

But then it happens. That moment you have been waiting for and working towards. You find your better half. The love of your life. The world as you know it haults and everything you thought you knew about life or thought you needed out of life comes crashing down around you. And it's just the two of you. Falling in love. Being all sweet and shit. Suddenly, all your free time that you used to spend in the gym is spent with this other person. That becomes your new habit and soon, your fluffy again. 

Sure, this doesn't happen to everyone. Throw having a baby into that equation though and you have my timeline of the last two years. I'm not complaining... Just calling it what it is.

Mike made me fat.

Not ONLY did he make me fall in love with him so madly that I want to spend every free moment I have near him, with him, around him, on him (you get the idea) but he ALSO got me pregnant. And I don't want to hear the "it takes two" crap. I was on birth control. He wasn't. Viola. His fault. So now I'm fat. When he's is home I still don't want to workout. Two years later and yes... I still want to spend every waking moment with him. There are times he isn't home though that I could workout. Oh, wait... Please refer back to when I said he got me pregnant. That means I have an ultra clingy infant at home that requires my attention. Currently, he is squawking at me and pulling on my leg while he shits his pants. Cute.

So being happy has made me fat. 

Lame. 

But I wouldn't trade my happiness now for my old size 6 jeans. Or a good nights sleep. Or anything. I remember what that unhappiness felt like. I remember only having the gym to look forward to everyday. I remember not having someone in my life that I love so dearly that I'd do anything for him. Including getting fat. 

So in effort to put an end to the fatness, I have been making little changes in my daily routines. Today, in fact, I'll be starting the Jillian Michaels 60 Day Shred. Okay, fine... It's really the 30 Day Shred, but it might take me 60 days to finish it. I shared a recent bum photo on Instagram. Mike deserves a better ass than that. Just sayin. Soooo I guess I can put some work in while he isn't home. Especially now that the cold season is upon us and we will be trapped indoors most days. 

If I have decent results by the end, I'll share them here. If I don't, I might come back and delete this post and act like it never happened. 

Only time will tell.

Blended or Broken?

Before you get to be called a blended family, you are called a broken home. That doesn't seem accurate, or fair.

My family was "broken" long before I left my husband. Once I actually left, it began to heal.

Through the healing process, as we all know by now, I had an amazing man by my side. It's hard to say exactly when he became a permanent fixture. As in, the moment there was no longer a chance he might leave. If I had to pin down a time frame, Id say it was around April 2013. You know, when we became "Facebook Official". 

Things would have been a lot less complicated if neither one of us had children. Even if just one of us had children. However, in this day and age that's just not very common. Both of us having children made us an immediate family of 6. 

We have similar parenting styles, but there are a few differences. Parenting our own children was easy enough. But parenting each others children? That's where things got difficult. Many days it felt like it was always "his" and "mine".

Discipline is a tricky thing when it's not your child. I mean, it was always easy enough to handle friends kids wen they were just over for a night or the afternoon. But when its a kid you have to live with... That's a whole new ball game. You have to enforce some sort of structure or you're just a joke. If you take the "cool step parent" route and choose a more hands off method and never enforce punishments, you're a push over. Kids are smart and they know who to manipulate and to what extent. I'm not okay with being manipulated. 

All of the kids have their own set of issues. Grace will cry anytime she is asked to do something she doesn't want to do. That's the only time she will ever say she misses her dad. Convenient, right? Chase is a terrible liar, but he tries to get away with it too often. He also has this awful habit of fidgeting all the time when you are talking to him. Nathin will play dumb. He's a smart kid, but he will try to pretend like he is ignorant about something thinking it will get him out of a chore. And eye contact is a concept this kid struggles with. Justin cries about everything and will do his best to manipulate everyone around him to do everything for him like putting on socks. He's going to be 5 soon. Put on your own socks. But these are all issues that stem from their other homes allowing them to get away with certain things. Then they try to push that same envelope with us. Not happening. 

Mike is a very straight forward person. We both believe in spanking, but not extensively. In the last two years I can probably count on both hands the number of times any of the kids got spanked. What we can't seem to get past is spanking each other's kids. I don't think it's okay. I'm not okay with spanking his kid, and I am not okay with him sparking mine. If discipline has to get to that extreme, we do it ourselves. But guess who has figured that out? These smart ass kids. 

If I am gone, Chase and Grace will tend to push the envelope a little more with Mike because they realize he won't spank them. Although, that's not too smart because he comes up with other equally punitive punishments. Lying is the one thing that will really set him off. None of the kids are great liars either... so they always get caught. Physical labor has become the punishment of choice. At least for Chase and Grace.

I don't have a whole lot of patients for a super needy kid. Especially when it comes to things I KNOW they can do on their own. I also don't deal well with a kid telling me what to do. You need me to help you with something, you ASK. You don't stick your shoe in my face while saying "I can't tie this." I also can't handle crying for no apparent reason. What? Go to your room until you can compose yourself. These kids are not babies (except of course, the baby) and I refuse to treat them as such. When I have SEEN you put your own jacket on, all by yourself, that means I know you can do it on your own! Just because today is Monday does not mean you have suddenly forgotten how to do it! If you want to go outside bad enough, I guess you'll figure it out. You want to try to blame the other kids for something you got caught doing? Cool. We know you're full of crap. So you won't be going to soccer this week. 

Having been at home these last few months has been a crash course in how to deal with all of the drama that comes with kids. I admit, I was ill prepared. We don't like breaking it down to "yours" and "mine" when it comes to the kids. A few days have felt like we have had that stand off. In the end, we talk it out and come up with a new plan of attack for the next time it comes up. I can't say enough how communication is key when co-parenting. If you aren't on the same page, the kids will smell the blood in the water. These kids are OUR kids. No special treatment. No getting babied by me because someone got in trouble by Mike, and vice versa. 


Communicate with each other, and communicate with your kids. You will have bad days. Days where you get all momma bear and think "Don't you talk to my kids that way!". But it's all a process. A very important process. You are essentially blending 4 families, not just two (and in our case, 5). It's important to understand that there is a learning curve because the kids pick up bad habits from the other homes. I'm sure they return to those homes with what the other family considers a "bad habit". It's just the cycle of things. But don't stress too much, because you will also have amazing days. Days when you will see your daughter experience fear that has her seek out her step dad to soothe. Moments like that will warm your heart so much that any of the recent bad days will be forgotten. 

Stay strong. Remember that you are working towards the same goal: Raising kind, independent and respectful children to send out into this world. Show each other and your children abounding love at all times. Don't take it personally when the kids ask about their other parents... they are a part of their family too. It won't be like this for long... don't miss a moment.

Kaboom.

It's been almost three months since we said goodbye to California and made our way just about as far east as we could get, to Maine. Three months of trying to get settled into a home that needed a bit more work than I had counted on. I still don't really feel "settled", but it gets easier everyday. We made the drive in seven days (with plenty of hiccups along the way...) with five people and two dogs. Last month Mike went back to San Diego to get Justin, so now there are six of us here. There is always something to be doing, something to worry about, something that just HAS to get done. Between laundry, cooking, cleaning, homework, attitudes and temper tantrums, I think I deserve a serious high five for not being a xanax popping alcoholic yet.

I did say yet.

If it weren't for Mike, I surely would be. I don't always talk to him the way I should or the way he wants me to (meaning I don't tell him everything I'm feeling all the time) but he always knows when I am teetering on that edge of sanity and detonation. He talks me off the ledge. Most of the time.

In the nearly two years we have been together, we had never had a real fight. We both knew it was coming... all couples fight. It's just reality. It finally came last week. The first time I genuinely felt angry at him. It felt weird. I felt sick to my stomach all day. I felt entirely justified in why I was mad, and he understood and apologized. Im not going to go into details about what our fight was about. Somethings are just meant to be between us, period. But the simple fact that we had a fight was huge. In some ways it opened Pandoras box. I got mad at him again a few days later. This time, I was wrong. I had no real reason to blow up at him the way I did. We didn't talk much the rest of the day... we just took the kids out to play in the mud and distract ourselves. All day I kept asking myself why I was so angry. What gave me the right to talk to him like that? Hes done nothing but love me at my most unlovable times and he has never raised his voice at me. Later that night we talked things out when we got in bed. It was then that I came to the only logical conclusion about my outburst.

My outlets are gone.

I used to have a handful of amazing friends that I could go hang out with, chat with, vent to, laugh with... and they are all 3,000+ miles away. I had a routine. I had places I could go to let off some steam when the kids had me stressed to my max. I could drive over to the mall, grab a Starbucks and just walk around and let my mind wander for a while. Thats all gone. I stopped with any kind of fitness routine I had because it felt less important than the million other things that needed my attention around the house.

I've had a much shorter fuse. Been on edge a lot. I've been very snappy. No one around me deserves that. Yes, I have a lot on my plate. Yes, things the kids do drive me up the wall on a daily basis. Yes, these dogs get me just as wound up as the kids. Yes, 90% of my attention has to go to Bishop all day long which means household chores suffer. But I also have kids who love me and instantly forgive me when I am less than patient with them. I have a man who showers me with love and reminds me everyday how lucky I am to have his love in my life. I still have two useless dogs... but maybe one day they will do something cool like save a life.

Its my job to make time for myself. I have to ask for it. I have to insist on it. But I have to take it for the sake of everyone around me, and myself. Being angry all the time for no reason is extremely exhausting. I plan on talking with my doctor as well, just to be sure there isn't something else going on, but I will be making more time for myself as best I can. Making more of a conscience effort of understanding that the kids have stresses and worries just like I do, and their needs will always take priority over my own (as they should). Baby steps. They might be small... but they are steps to a new me. A me that my family needs.