Pink Giraffe Musing

I am not a beach girl. I do not enjoy sand, or heat, let alone the two together all day long every day for several days in a row. That being said, we just went to Florida. To "the beach", as they say in Georgia. Amelia Island, Florida. Beautiful place. Quiet, old town with lots of interesting history (pirates, Native Americans and the oldest working bar in Florida) and best of all, not a busy beach. I am not a beach girl, and if I have to go to the beach, I am surely not going to a busy beach. I like the enjoy the nature, the majesty, the beauty when I am at the beach. Not people. I can people watch everywhere else. Once, before kids, maybe even before we were married, my husband and I got up and went to the beach by the Cape Hatteras lighthouse at 6 am to see the sunrise. We were THE ONLY people on the beach. That is how I like it. Talk about feeling small. WOW. If I had the choice between the beach and say, an art show in Boston in January, I am pretty sure I would pick the...

Well, I couldn't quit. I just couldn't. I wasn't ready to be done, and I really can't figure out what I will do next in terms of fitness, and I don't want to do nothing with as hard as I have worked to get where I am now. I have some Kathy Smith videos, really VHS tapes, and a working VCR, but I don't think that is going to work for me. Like I said before, I am not coordinated, and aerobics videos are just not my thing (not to mention that my kids watch me and mock me). Some 1985 video is just not a sustainable workout program for me at this point. I wish I was a runner, but I am not a runner. First of all, it is hot here. And second of all, I don't like to run, at all....not for long distances. I wish I did....it is cheap and accessible, but I am not self-motivated enough to be a runner. This I know. Starting out, my goal was simple. Get stronger. Be able to do push-ups. And May seemed far away, and all of a sudden it is May. A fellow bootcamper told me ab...

The last day of the Boot Camp Weight loss challenge was today. I have to admit to happiness with my accomplishments (14.5 inches lost and 10 lbs lost), but a great deal of sadness, because despite hating to work out, I really like boot camp. If that makes any sense. I mean, if it were up to me, I would never work out, really. It doesn't make me feel so great that I can't live without it, and if there was a way to get around it, I would. But I can't, so I won't, I hope. And, like I have said before, I love chili cheese nachos, beer, and I really, really, really love pizza, like I could eat it every single day kind of love. I really could. YUM. I don't like vegetables, except celery. Not really. I eat them. I make myself. And, I tell my kids, I don't like this but I know it is good for me, and so I eat it. I hope that will make some impression on them that food is not just about taste, but about fuel, and about health. But, me a vegetarian, never. But back to boot...

Motherhood. It is truly a gift. An exhausting, tiring, thankless gift. A gift that brightens my everyday. A gift that for many years I thought I wasn't interested in. And, one I am thankful that in the end that I was. One that I can call the best decision of my life. I love my kids. I hate to be away from them, even when they make me crazy. I have only spent a handful of nights away from them in their lives and I like it that way. I miss them while they are at school, or sleeping over at friend's house. My house doesn't seem right until they are here. My heart is glad when I see them in the school carpool line every day. They may come home and fight, but I am still thankful for every minute that I get to spend with them. Crazy, isn't it. Yet, I think I am not alone in these feelings. My love for them far outweighs and exceeds and sassy, crazy, crabby, mean spirited things they do. That is not to say they are bad kids, they aren't. While they can be all those things;...

I have never been strong. As a kid I was always skinny. And, admittedly a picky eater -- I hated cheese of all kinds, condiments, especially mayo. If I had a nickel for every time my Grandma said to me, "You eat like a bird", well you know, I'd be rich. Imagine my glee when I learned in science one day that a bird eats twice it's weight each day! I could barely wait for the next family dinner, the inevitable comment, and my reply. I can still see it in my mind. My grandparents, great Aunt Betty, parents, sister.....all assembled and someone had to say it...."Beth, you eat like a bird". Oh, it was a glorious moment! In high school, I had to lift weights so that I could propel the ball from the serving line over the net in volleyball. In basketball, my coach made me use a weighed ball to do passing drills to help me build up muscle. I am not sure it ever worked. I remained thin -- skinny. I remember some boys in high school telling me my arms looked like a p...