I've been dressing like a hobo...

I'm now nearly 11 months post-partum.  I should be back to my pre-maternity size (should have been way long ago).  I shouldn't even consider wearing some of my maternity clothes, but I do.  I should dress sharp and look neat when I go to work.  But, every day when I look in the mirror, I so often think, "well, I'm not leaving the office today, and I feel like a hobo, but I'm comfortable."  I used to say "I dress like a homeless person," but I thought that was insensitive and I didn't want to insult folks who are down on their luck.  Hobo seemed more appropriate since they're more in charge of their circumstances and choose to live a hobo-lifestyle.  I guess that's what I'm doing right now?  

 

I've been looking back through a lot of old pageant pictures lately.  In that time of my life, I was well dressed, sharp, thin, tan, fit and always "put together."  I'd gained and lost weight over the years, but always felt like I looked nice when I left the house, whether I was going to ride, to work, or to lunch with friends.  I had stylish clothes, pretty shoes, and matching accessories.  I felt like a million bucks, even through much of the pregnancy (see maternity picture to right!).  

 

But, in March 2010, when I found out Charlie was on the way, I started my descent from pageant girl lawyer...to expectant mother... to new mother... to hobo.  I'd lost a lot of weight before I got pregnant, but due to some early complications, I couldn't work out (and eating anything remotely healthy made me want to toss my cookies).  So, for several months, I lived on Taco Bell, fruit (go figure?) and Outback cheese fries.  I cringed every time I stepped on the scale, but thought it would be ok because everyone told me I'd "lose all of the weight so easy when nursing" (NOT...that was a big load of crap!).  I felt like a hippo by the time I went into the hospital to meet the little man.  What I didn't expect was to feel like a hippo for quite some time afterward!  When I went back to work, I was still nursing, so out of ease and necessity, I became a big fan of the tank top/open cardigan combo.  It was easy access, covered my post-baby body, and with the right accessories, looked fairly stylish and professional (or so I thought).  Then, I encountered another post-pregnancy issue...my feet had gotten bigger and my toes hurt from all of the foot swelling at the end of my pregnancy.  So, I had to lose my pretty heels and resort to some shoes that resemble clod-hoppers (a small improvement from my Croc dress flats I wore during the pregnancy that Jared HATED).  Charlie was still waking up every three hours to eat during my first THREE months back to work.  Through the exhaustion, I thought I looked pretty good.  Luckily, I have very few pictures of myself during this time.

 

But, then the sleep deprivation haze wore off and on one fateful day, I took a good look in the mirror and realized I looked like a HOBO.  I was wearing granny shoes (or the good old faithful crocs), ill-fitting pants (that I later discovered had a spit up spot on the leg), a tank that seemed to accentuate my post-baby midsection, an open cardigan (complete with usual spot on my left shoulder where Charlie "hugs" me every morning), messy pony tail and bags under my eyes.  Even when I went to ride, I was wearing baggy jeans and t-shirts (not my usual sharp-er slim jeans and fitted polo).  I was NOT the picture of a glowing new mother OR former pageant queen OR equestrian athlete.  I was an overpaid HOBO.  Unfortunately, I was not motivated enough by the shocking image in the mirror, so nothing changed.   I've convinced myself that it's ok...I work long hours, have a house, husband, horse and child...I don't have time to work out and look nice.  I have to walk a lot, so it's ok to wear comfortable shoes.  And, I'm a new mom, so no one will notice the little slobber stain on my pants, right?     

 

Yesterday was a rough day, but I wore my favorite suit and shoes and I felt sharp again.  Today, I'm back to hobo, BUT today, I'm a hobo with Chi-straigtened hair and an urge to get an overdue eyebrow wax.  Baby steps, right?  I'm about four weeks back into weight watchers and it is working (even though most people haven't noticed including my husband)!  I'm determined to get back in shape and return, at least sometimes, to feeling like a badass in a sharp suit (or at least nice boots and jeans!)  And, I'd like to do that before the end of the year.  Now that I've said it, I'm asking my friends to please help me stay focused (and feel free to laugh and make jokes about me when I look like a hobo...it will keep me motivated), but please don't make fun of my shoes until I can find some more stylish kicks for these poor feet.  I'll pull out my Cole Haans when I need them.  :-) 

 

Lessons of the day:

(1) Life is too short to wear mommy jeans and ugly shoes.

(2) Tractor supply STILL doesn't carry baby food for my one stop shopping needs...aarrggh!

Saying goodbye to our hero

Some of you may have read my October 4 post about the passing of my friend, Kimi Agar.  Today, we laid our American hero to rest.  It’s always so hard to say goodbye and the service was all too familiar a feeling from three most untimely deaths in our family in 2004 and 2006.  But, through the sadness, my heart is filled with pride – for Kimi, for my “family” who came together in her honor and memory, and for a country that allows people to line the streets with flags and shut down highways to honor a fallen soldier. 

When I won Miss Longview Area, I didn’t realize the struggles I’d face with a new director to the system and the distance between my area and my home.  What I also didn’t realize was the incredible family I’d just been “crowned” into.  Before I won my local title, I’d also competed at Northeast Tarrant County and Plano.  I am so blessed that both of those pageant directors took me in “off the streets!”  Brenda, Leslie and Jan welcomed me into their homes, helped me with wardrobe, talent and interview…all the way to Miss Texas…and after.  I was also blessed that Kimi Agar was also part of the Northeast Tarrant County family.  So, during the countless hours I spent at the Harville’s house, some of those were also spent with Kimi.    

I’m proud to be a veteran of the Miss Texas Organization.  Even though I was only able to compete for one year (I was a geriatric pageant girl and aged out after my first year), it was a great year and I met some incredible people.  Through the highs and lows, it’s a family.  And, today, that family came together.  Bruce Wallace started the service with a heartfelt recitation of the Soldier’s Creed.  Terry Telligman spoke such a truth about how we all have different parts of our lives with different sets of friends… and that those pieces don’t always intersect.  And, then Christy Kibler touched my heart when she spoke today about how people go their separate ways and lose touch.  Today, I saw friends that I hadn’t seen in years and some that I’ve only “met” through our Facebook connections.  And, it made me realize how often that happens in life.  We get busy with work, children and life outside of whatever activity brought us together.  I’ve lost touch with high school friends, college friends, horse friends, work friends and pageant friends.  But… the best thing about true friends is that you can pick right back up where you left off – as if time hasn’t passed.  And today, we were all able to come together to honor Kimi.         

As I sat there today, I realized why I loved Kimi so much.  I’ve tried to be so sweet and use soft words, and I certainly hope this description doesn’t offend anyone, but the word that kept popping in my mind is “badass.”  She was beautiful beyond words, fierce, compassionate and kind.  She was a princess and a soldier.  She could wear a sparkly dress and heels and then trade them in for camo.  (I had to smile at a picture in the slideshow of her “pageant posing” in her fatigues).  In my “prime,” I used to ride my horse at full speed cross country and jump big things that don’t fall down.  I think that, at least for that period of my life, I was a badass.  And, I remember driving onto the base for my interview with Air Force JAG and feeling like a badass.  But, I took an office job, drive a safe car and compete now in a safer horse sport …I’ve lost that badass part of myself.  Kimi was the badass that I’d always wanted to be, she did things that I wasn’t brave enough to do, and although she was 8 years younger, I looked up to her with the utmost respect.  She was a little sister in this pageant family and I loved her.  

I’m sure she was looking down and smiling today at the overwhelming display of love, friendship and patriotism.  What a beautiful tribute to a beautiful soul.  Even though I’m not able to tell her in person, something I’ll always regret, I know Kimi will hear me when I say “I’m SO proud of you, Sgt. Agar.”                 

Meet Jac...my 1000 pound toddler.

Charlie is still an "infant."  But, I'm getting some practice on what's to come since I also have a toddler...my horse Jac Smart.  I've usually always had older horses that have been around the block and I tend to forget that Jac is still a toddler.  He's 4 years old.  At 2, he started working, and he was showing at 3, so he's been around the block, but he's never, until now, gotten a chance to be a toddler.  

 

Jac Smart as a baby

 

 

I'm beginning to think there's not a whole lot of difference in raising a horse or a human (my horse friends are probably laughing and my non-horse friends are gasping!)  I realized that we "horse people" use a lot of the same terminology for our babies, human and equine alike.  For instance, when I was pregnant, I used to accidentally say "when this baby is on the ground" ("when he's born" in human talk).  I cluck when I want things to go faster (i.e. the cars in front of me in traffic).  And, the other night, my trainer (who has a son 4 days younger than Charlie) was talking about their nightly bedtime routine and when their son isn't ready to go to bed, they just have to "lope him down" ("wear him out" in human talk).     

 

But, a couple of weeks ago, I discovered the main difference between raising a toddler human and a toddler horse.  When the toddler human sees something new or scary, they investigate or laugh or cry.  When a toddler horse sees something new, the new thing is automatically scary, and the toddler horse must flee from it as quickly as possible to avoid imminent death - even if the new thing is just a toy, peice of wood, or...say...beeping truck.  I also learned that the toddler horse can hurls his 1000 pound body directly sideways in about 1/100 of a second, leaving his "mommy" no chance to come along for the ride.  My recent fall was really my fault - I often forget that Jac is a toddler and let my guard down.  I never let my guard down on my Thoroughbreds, but Jac is a quarter horse and bred for a laid back temperment.  In fact, we even laughed that the big spook was an indication that "at least he did something fast!"  

 

Earlier this week, he accidentally stepped back and tore out a huge hunk of his tail.  For about the next five minutes, he went around the arena thrashing his tail around and flicking his ears (horse equivalent of yelling "OUCH!" "OUCH!" and sticking out his bottom lip) to make me feel terrible for allowing him to injure himself.  And, in true toddler fashion, a few minutes later, he completely forgot about his tail when he saw water sprinklers for the first time.  Before I even knew what hit us, that little black peice of plastic came out of the ground, the water turned on, and with the first "schoo-schoo-schooo" of the sprinkler, we were entirely across the arena in about three steps - luckily, he found it necessary to carry me with him on this emergency escape.  Don't get me wrong...he's a great horse.  He's just a toddler and his reactions to new things are not always calm and calculated.  When I bought him, he would spook in slow motion.  So, I guess he's learned something new.  Ggrreeaatt.   

 

Both of my babies test me.  Charlie tests us on how long we'll let him cry before we come to the rescue.  Jac decided that he didn't want to turn left this week.  Jac has also realized that when he poops, I run behind him and clean up.  So, it's a game to him now....I think he saves it up...and he drops no less than three "gifts" for me, always inside the barn.  I can see him secretly laughing at me as he watches me drag the muck bucket around and I think I heard him whisper "bet you feel like a big fancy lawyer now...shit scooper girl."   I'm not a patient person with many things, but I've always been patient with my horses and Charlie...but they sure put me to the test sometimes.  If horses, and children, will make you anything, they'll make you humble!         

 

 

Closing thoughts:

(1)  It's a good thing toddler horses don't wear diapers.  No Genie would contain that. 

(2)  If the feed store would carry Gerber, my life would be a lot simpler.

 

 

 

Lightening the mood...."I am stuck on Band-Aid" and other tales of a new mom

After yesterday, I thought I needed to write something funny to lighten the mood....

 

I'm a new mom.  I try to keep up with things for Charlie...the best food, clothes that fit, diapers that don't leak, etc.  But, sometimes things fall through the cracks. 

 

Some of you know our Basset hound, Dixie.  She's not the typical lay around and snooze all day kind of Basset.  She gets excited, particularly and overly excited when we return home.  Several Sunday afternoons ago, Jared and I came in from the grocery store.  Dixie seemed to have settled down, so I sat Charlie on the floor so that I could help put away the groceries.  But, Dixie got riled up again, ran OVER Charlie and cut his foot with one of her freshly clipped sharp toenails.  He was otherwise unharmed and unbothered by the whole occurrence, but I was mortified that the dog had gashed my little boy's otherwise pristine flesh.  She got a stern "talking to" about settling down, and then I went to attend to Charlie's gaping bleeding wound.  (Ok...it was just one scratch and one inch long cut that was bleeding a little, but at the time, I thought he might have needed a plastic surgeon to ensure he didn't scar. I mean...it did draw blood!) 

 

So, operation first-aid commenced.  I was so glad I took the first aid training for Pony Club and through work - I was prepared to deal with my first emergency situation.  I held Charlie over the sink and poured peroxide on the wound, washed my hands and put neosporin on it, then put a couple of baby-sized Band-Aids on him and put him in his footy PJs to get ready for bed.  The wound was safe, clean, medicated, and protected by Band-Aids and footie pajamas.  (This is the point in the story, as I was telling it to my friend Amie at work the following morning  - Amie is super-mom by the way -  when Amie gasped and exclaimed, "YOU put a Band-Aid on a baby?  They can choke on Band-Aids!")  I panicked...on the inside.  I pretended like I was busy so that Amie would leave... and I could call the daycare to stop the impending disaster.  I had already taken Charlie to daycare that morning with fresh Band-Aids on his foot covered by socks (that he usually pulls off about two minutes after I walk out the door).  And, when I got home, Charlie was playing on the floor, with his wound exposed to the air.  (Better than having those death strips on his foot, I thought.)  So, I kept applying neosporin and socks....NO more Band-Aids...he could choke on Band-Aids.  I was so relieved that the daycare had removed the potential choking hazard...thank goodness we caught it in time.  

 

The next morning (Tuesday), when I dropped Charlie off at school and thanked his teacher for removing the Band-Aids, with a funny look, she said, "what Band-Aids?"  I was convinced that someone else must have handled it and dismissed the whole thing.  Either way...Charlie survived, didn't choke, and the Band-Aids were gone...never to be heard from again (until he's old enough not to put sticky plastic strips in his mouth)...or so I thought.  

 

Let me preface this, without too many icky details, by saying that Charlie has some "systems issues," so we're always glad to see a "business" diaper.  On Wednesday night, despite my eventual horror, I was also glad to know that Charlie was in working order and that it takes exactly two days for something to run through him.  There it was...the death strip...a reminder of my incompetence as a parent...right there in Charlie's diaper.  The Band-Aid had resurfaced.  As Charlie laid there giggling and playing with a bottle of lotion, I felt the tears in my eyes over what could have happened (he could have choked, could have stopped breathing, could have gotten the Band-Aid stuck somewhere along the way!) 

 

I decided to share the news with Jared to make sure that he NEVER used Band-Aids on Charlie.  I was also hoping for a little comfort that "no one knows that" or "we're both learning."  NOPE.  Jared's response?  "Well, I (emphasis on the iiiiii) knew not to put a Band-Aid on a baby."  No he didn't...or else he would have said something when I bragged about putting the first neatly placed Band-Aid on Charlie three days before.  But, now I know he's in on the conspiracy to make me question my parenting skills.      

 

Moral of the story to my expectant mom friends...there are SO many things that they don't tell you when you leave the hospital with your little bundle of joy...this is one of those things.  I remember the "I am stick on Band-Aids, cause Band-Aid's stuck on me" advertisement...which made me think "sometimes you feel like a nut....sometimes you dont."   Most days, as a new mom....I feel like a nut.  Maybe I'll get through today without doing something stupid.  Charlie has withdrawn my nomination for Mother of the Year...again. 

Trying to be a hero...

Disclaimer:  Reflective post warning...

Facebook is weird and it's even more addictive.  Every day, I have to have some coffee and a little facebook time to see what everyone is doing.  It feeds my nosey Gemini personality.  I usually laugh at my friends who've told a funny story about something embarrassing, comment on some posts that I can relate to (weight loss, lame horses, crazy work days, etc.) and get back to work.  But, this morning, when I opened Facebook expecting to see some updated pictures from the horse trials last weekend and some ranting posts about traffic, I saw post, after post, after post about something so shocking and sad that I still sit here in disbelief.  A U.S. Soldier has been "heavenly deployed."  And, that soldier was my friend, Kim Agar. 

When I think of Kimmie, I remember one of my very first Miss Texas Preliminaries.  I really didn't know anyone, but that didn't last long (those who knew Kim are probably giggling now).  When I arrived and headed out into the theatre for talent rehearsal, a precious young girl with a huge smile and mouth full of braces greeted me.  Kim was a teen contestant and I was old - actually, I was in my last year of eligibility and a second year law student.  I thought Kim was "cute," until I saw her step confidently up onto that stage and release her big, beautiful voice, and then I realized she was amazing!  I honestly can't remember the results of that pageant, but I'll never forget meeting Kim...and her mom, Margy.  Being an "older" contestant, I was usually by myself.  At every pageant, Margy would root for me to make sure I heard someone cheering.  As my pageant family grew, so did the cheers, usually led by Margy (and my other pageant mom, Kim Lyons Scroggins).  I had a wonderful year ending in my "retirement" from pageants.  But, over the following years, I watched Kimmie grow from that sweet little girl into a beautiful accomplished woman.  And, I remember when I first learned that she had joined the Army and was going to Iraq.  We all prayed...we prayed through the deployment, prayed with every one of Margy's message board and Facebook posts, and were relieved when Kimmie was leaving Iraq and headed to Germany.  Kim was a US Army Transportation Specialist and earned a Combat Action Badge after her unit was hit by an IED in Iraq.
In "pageantland," it's a silly joke to answer a question "and world peace."  But, for Kim, it wasn't a joke at all...it was her life.  She was a United States Army soldier fighting for world peace.    

Today also took me back to mid-September 2004 when I learned that my friend Tyler Brown was killed in Iraq.  I was overwhelmed with shock, sadness, and pride.  I couldn't contain how proud I was to know a real hero.  And, I was so blessed to be able to spend some time visiting Tyler on September 11, 2008 at Arlington National Cemetary in Washington, D.C.  Standing there on that warm fall morning, looking around that beautiful place, I knew that Tyler was where God wanted him to be....surrounded by heros.

I am SO incredibly proud of my friends who serve in the military and I'm humbled by the sacrifices they've made to serve our country.  My step-brother Lance was in the Air Force, friend Lee in the National Guard, and friend, Alyson in the Air Force.  I seriously looked into JAG when I was in my third year of law school, applied and interviewed with Air Force JAG, went through the physical, got into the last stages of the process and decided that I just wasn't cut out for military life (code for "chickened out" at deployment).    I'm simply in awe of my lifelong friend, Alyson.   We met when we were either 4 or 5 years old and graduated together.  Now, our babies are just a month or so apart and I love seeing the pictures of her precious Chloe.  It's easy for me to forget that while we struggle through new motherhood together, and I think my days are tough, she's also serving our country a US Air Force pilot, worrying about her deployed husband (who has thankfully returned home recently) and going through nursing school.  I remember sleepovers at Alyson's house when we were little, going through school together, traveling Europe together.  She's always been a wonderful person.  But, now she's also a mother and a hero.  I smile when I think of what an amazing role model she is for her daughter and how I hope I can have half that impact on Charlie.  And, I hope this makes her smile to see what an impact she's having on her friends!

Today has made me take a huge step back and a good look at things...what's important...my everyday heros.  It's easy to be dragged down into whining about bills, calendars, slow computers, and rude drivers.  What's important is that I have a husband that loves me even when I'm certainly not at my best, that I have a healthy, happy, beautiful baby boy, that I have good friends, and that I have a job that I love and a wonderful boss.   

So, I've decided to try to be positive, have a better attitude, and be more of a "hero" to those around me.  It's not much in comparison, but in honor and memory of my friends mentioned above, it's the best I can do.   

God bless you all and God bless America!  Signing off with a video of Kimmie singing God Bless America at Miss Texas.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVygQLXHhqc.  RIP Kim. You will be greatly missed. 

 

The great segway: what's happened since July 2009?

First of all - in case anyone was following my last blog (posted below) - I'm sorry for dropping off the face of the earth.  I did not starve and Adolphus did not kill me.  I put myself through much worse physical torture...I had a baby.  All kidding aside...Charlie is the most wonderful gift from God, and here's the segway between my life as it was....and now.

Between July 2009 and February 2010, things were going great.  I was feeling more fit, the workouts got "easier," and the weight was falling off.  I lost around 45 pounds!  In September 2009, I bought a beautiful off the track Thoroughbred named "Moody Goose," which I promptly changed to "Motion Granted."   Dually, as we called him around the barn, was one of the sweetest, most talented horses I've ever owned and everything I'd ever wanted in an adult amateur type event horse.  He was GREEN and ran around with his nose in the air and bunny hopping over jumps.  Jared was, well, less than thrilled about my new project, but Dually really started to grow on him.  Dually and I started working on his flatwork (my forte') and I discovered a beautiful trot with suspension!  I also took him to some schooling events and brought home some ribbons...also learning that he's a pretty willing jumper!  Dually and I were having a blast together and winning to boot!  I'd also been competing in the Intercollegiate Alumni Reining classes through the fall and qualified for the IHSA National Championships in Lexington Kentucky in May 2010!   I was anxiously getting ready for Dually's first USEA horse trial in the Spring of 2010.  Then, it rained....and rained....and rained..... and our arena was soaked.  Just about every early spring schooling show was cancelled, so I decided to wait and take him out mid-Spring after I could get through a warm up event.  I started grooming for a local up and coming event rider, Ellen Doughty and was having a blast going to the events, participating, and not even riding (knowing that Dually was coming along behind the scenes and would be ready to come out with a bang!) 

The Monday night after I'd been grooming at Meadowcreek Horse Trials, Jared and I got the shock of our lives....I was pregnant!  Sparing all personal details, it was not a surprise...we just expected that it would take longer to expand our family.  But, we were off on a journey that NOTHING would have prepared us for...parenthood!  With my doctor's blessing, I continued to ride, very cautiously, and only on the flat (no jumping).  About three weeks later, I went to Holly Hill Horse Trials to groom for Ellen.  After a fun, but exhausting dressage and cross-country day Saturday with Ellen's three horses (the extremely talented, but slightly spoiled Obie and Harley and lovely little mare, Dell), I tried to get some sleep to prepare for show jumping Sunday morning and then the drive home.  But, I woke up Sunday morning certain that I'd miscarried.  Through raging tears, I called Jared and my OB's on call nurse and headed home from Louisiana in a panic, sure that we'd lost the baby.  I spent Sunday and Monday on strict bed rest (telling everyone that I was just "under the weather") until my appointment on Tuesday with my OB.  The prognosis was grim and we were counseled through all that would happen over the next few hours if we'd lost the baby.  Then, they turned on the machines and to everyone's surprise, we heard the heartbeat of our precious 8 week old baby for the very first time!  We laughed and cried and I realized that the big scare was a blessing in disguise...it made me realize how very much I already loved this little "peanut!"  But, because of my somewhat rare condition (that caused what we'd believed to be a miscarriage), I was not allowed to exercise....or ride....at all.  So, for entertainment, I resorted to following my pregnany craving -  cheese fries. 

In May 2010, at around 14 weeks along, and with my doctor's permission (not blessing, just permission), I was allowed to compete at the IHSA National Championships.  One class, one draw, no re-ride.  And, I promised Jared that if I drew a bad horse, I'd withdraw.  I flew to KY.. jeans snug over what would become my baby bump, and ready to compete.  My horse wasn't "bad," just not very talented or well behaved, but I decided to give it my best shot - that's the way a draw goes, I guess.  The pattern started with a run in to a sliding stop and I realized that I was riding way too timidly to get a big score.  So, I carefully executed the rest of the pattern, careful not to dump myself or my precious cargo.  I placed 5th and have some neat pictures of the baby's first sliding stop.  :-)  (I was also convinced that the pink ribbon was a sign I was having a girl - haha!).  This was my last ride until January 2011.

Between May and November, I got bigger and bigger.  Thank GOD, my pregnancy was pretty uneventful after that early scare (other than my HUGE swollen feet).  We learned in June that we were having a BOY(!) and we started getting ready for his arrival.  I was able to spend Saturday and Sunday mornings at the barn, getting my horse time and grooming the boys (Dually and Joker).  After not making much progress toward my due date, and a sono that revealed a pretty big baby...my doctor decided to induce.  So, on November 22, 2010, we headed to the hospital around 9pm for my induction to begin.  Tuesday, November 23, 2010 they started pitocin at 5:30am.  After 7 hours with no drugs, and epidural around 2pm, and no more progress, we faced the inevitable...a C-section.  And, around 6pm, Charles Lloyd Johnson was born at 9 lbs, 7 oz.  He was PERFECT - Healthy and beautiful and we were overwhelmed at the blessing.  I'm not saying any of it was easy, but the C-section that I'd dreaded wasn't as bad as I'd imagined.  I spent Thanksgiving at Baylor Grapevine...I got to watch the Macy's parade and the turkey lunch was pretty good!  The next day, we took Charlie home - completely ignorant to how our lives had changed.  We went through feeding problems, lactation consultants, colic, acid reflux, and other baby issues.  I'm not going to lie...it was not fun and I wondered numerous times who I could blame for talking me into this mess.  My boss (has 5 kids and told me that parenthood is wonderful), my friend Betsy (who'd wanted us to have a baby for years), my friend Amie (who'd helped me develop baby fever), my dad and stepmom (started the baby talk right after the wedding), AND Jared...they were all on my hit list.  I was an emotional wreck...I loved this new little human, but missed (and sort of mourned the loss of) my old life. 

Everyone told me "it will get better."  And, guess what?  It did.  The colic and reflux went away, Charlie started eating like a champ, started smiling, started cooing, started crawling and now has 2 teeth and tries to make words and wave "bye bye."  He is the sweetest soul and he's my world....

Which is how "Jac Smart" comes into the picture.  After I had Charlie, my anxiousness about jumping turned into an absolute paralyzing fear.  I couldn't jump anything without a near panic attack.  Dually was doing great (thanks to some WONDERFUL training by my friend & Advanced level eventer, Jessica Pye, during my maternity leave), but something was "broken" in my daredevil spirit.  I was a mom now and my riding was suffering for it.  Every time I cantered down to a jump, I worried about falling, what would happen to Jared and Charlie if I was injured or, God forbid, had a fatal fall.  Horses are already dangerous, but I was adding in a huge risk factor by choosing THE most dangerous equestrian sport (which also happens to have gotten a lot of media coverage over the past years after a couple of  horrific accidents...one being my former coach, Olympian, Darren Chiacchia).  I got off of my big sweet Dually one day, gave him a pat and realized I was DONE.  I closed the book on the chapter of my life where I could ride, carefree, at speed over jumps that don't fall.  I didn't love dressage enough to do that full time...and I just couldn't event anymore...I'd lost my nerve.  With all of the other changes going on...why better time than to try a new sport.  I put my beloved horse, Dually, on the market for sale.   And, my transition to a new equestrian sport was underway.   

After a couple of months, some "tire kicker" buyers, and some "just not the right horse" buyers....Seguin came along.  Seguin is 10 years old and Dually is the new love of her life (and the feeling was mutual).  It was a perfect match, and on July 6, 2011, Dually went to his new home.  Dually hadn't been gone for an hour and I started looking for a new horse.  Literally, the next day, July 7, a new ad popped up on a reining horse with royal bloodlines.  He just happened to be with Jarvis Anderson at Green Valley Ranch (just a short drive away).  My trainer, Jeff, went to ride the horse and thought he was perfect for me.  I rode him the following week, loved him, vetted him, and "bit the bullet."  "Jac Smart" came home with me on July 22.  For August and September, he's been with Jeff working out some "kinks" in his training, but Jac will be coming home for good on October 1.      

The week before we went to the hospital to have Charlie, we got the devastating news that our precious Basset Hound, Dudley, had a "lump."  After a surgery, biopsy, diagnosis, numerous trips to the vet, a veterinary oncologist, and tons of hugs and hours of love, we said goodbye to Dudley on April 19, 2011.  I miss him everyday - he was such a blessing to our family.  But, life goes on and we still have Dixie (our younger Basset who ADORES Charlie...unless he bothers her bones) and the cat, Jackson, who is less than thrilled about the new family member, but tolerates us all living under "his" roof.                 

As for work, I'm still at Touchstone, still loving my job and the people I work with.  My equine law venture has started to take off and I'm excited about that. 

To say that "things have changed" would be the understatement of the century.  My "old life" had three components....Jared, work and horses.  Now, I struggle to find balance as a master juggler.  Wife, working mother with demanding career, and rider.  It can be challenging, sad...and downright hilarious at times, but overall, I'm enjoying the ride. 

Post #7 from my old life: weight loss adventures of July 9, 2009

Thursday, July 9, 2009

On the road again....

My next challenge in this diet hell - traveling for work. This diet is controlling my life. I had to book my flights around my 6 meals, so I had breakfast, had the first shake on the way to the airport, strategically planned lunch that I could carry on my salad to eat on the plane, and grabbed water as soon as I landed for shake #2. Geez....

I'm in heaven on earth (at least for someone who loves horses like I do) in Lexington, Kentucky. I did get to see Jordan, my sweet brother-in-law, in Louisville when I flew in. I'm so, so proud of him for moving out here to KY to start dental school. I also appreciate his detailed discussion regarding his cadaver, which he's named "Henry," and the disected portions of Henry's dead body. At least it curbed my food cravings for a few minutes. Then, he told me Henry was a "fit dude," which reminded me that it was time to eat again (and that I needed to go work out when I got to my hotel). Damn Henry. Jordan and I had a nice dinner on the waterfront before I headed over to Lexington. He ate a hamburger on Texas toast with a coke while I ate grilled shrimp and water. I may love him and be very proud of him, but I still get to be jealous of his excellent metabolism.

I'm used to selecting my hotels based on close proximity to Starbucks and/or something horsey, particularly in Kentucky. This time, I needed a fitness center. So, I checked in, secured 8 oz of milk for my evening shake (don't I look like a party animal bellying up to the hotel bar for a stiff glass of milk), and took off to the gym. Nice gym - good equipment - nice view of downtown Lexington, but it sucks compared to my usual evening with tv, a comfy bed and the awesomeness of room service.

There is also another cruel challenge here in Kentucky - my favorite, favorite restaurant with my favorite, favorite, yummy, gooey, sweet and buttery rolls - O'Charleys. We don't have O'Charleys in Texas. I also like their grilled salmon salad, which I can have, but I knew I couldn't resist the rolls, so I had to steer clear of O'Charleys.

So far, I've been tempted by O'Charley's rolls, the peanut butter pie at the restaurant tonight, the ballpark food on the 4th of July, and Steak & Shake on the way from the airport to the hotel, but for some God-forsaken reason, I can't kick my overwhelming desire for a Taco Bell soft taco. Go figure. I have my 89 cents ready for the blessed day I get to cheat.

Post #6 from my old life: weight loss adventures of July 4, 2009

Independence Day

Well, the 4th of July has come and gone now - a great day to celebrate the independence of our great U.S.A. Man, would we have loved a little independence from this friggin' diet.

Adolphus was taking the day off Sat., so we worked out on the 3rd (worked out well as not to completely ruin our 4th of July). Our work outs are excruciating. I reach complete and total muscle failure every time. And, I'm still fighting to keep my breakfast down. But, luckily, I'm able to function in daily life after I leave the gym. I'm still sore and know that I've certainly worked out, but I'm just trilled to be able to brush my own teeth, wash my hair and wipe my own butt - things that had been extremely difficult after our first arm and leg workouts!

So, the 4th of July. Jared bartered 2 "free" pounds from Adolphus. I was terrified at the idea. Anything over two pounds and he'd "kick our asses." I thought he was doing that at every workout, but evidently he thinks he's being easy on us. If what we've been doing is easy, I don't want an ass kicking - I think he'd kill me. Seeing that the scale does not account for water weight, muscle addition and bad days, I decided to have a cheat free 4th.

I also decided to work out, but I didn't have time to go to the gym, so like all fitness gurus, I went out to do a little interval training before we headed to the baseball game. It was 2pm on July 4 in Texas and it's 150 degrees outside. This was NOT a good idea. I have never sweated like that in my life and there came a point that I was not sure I'd be able to get home. Great. It's the 4th of July and I'm passed out on the sidewalk in our subdivision. Luckily, me and the creatures from my pre-heat stroke hallucination got home safely.

That evening, we headed out to the Rangers game. We had dinner before we left, but as much as Jared loves to go to the ballpark I love to eat at the ballpark, which is a huge problem on a diet that doesn't allow garlic fries, footlong chili dogs and ice cream (gee - I wonder how I got in this weight gain predicament!?!) So, I took snacks...so many snacks that the lady at the bag check told me that she hoped me "and the children have a good time at the game!" Glad we don't have children yet - I wouldn't have shared my snacks. It was just watermelon, fat free kettle corn and bottles of water, but to me it's gold. Jared had beer - 2 pounds worth. On to another week....

Post #5 from my old life: weight loss adventures of July 1, 2009

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Seriously?

Breakfast at 4:45am, Workout #4 at 6am. We're up, we've eaten our huge power packed breakfast and we're ready for our ass kickin. We walk in the door to Adolphus saying "Good morning - you're not going to like me very much today." What did I say earlier? Adolphus is a very honest man.

Legs. Again. Except this time, we worked everything except the front of my legs. I learned one more thing about Adolphus today - he cannot count. When he's counting down from 20, at 7, he jumps back up to 12, sometimes 15. That's not fair. Isn't there something in the Constitution about cruel and unusual punishment? Anyway - he split us up today - Jared was all the way across the gym and we were doing completely different exercises. I can't tell whether he's (1) worried that Jared and I are competing against each other which could be unhealthy for our relationship or (2) that he's scared that we outnumber him and might take him down if he "mis-counts" again. Likely the latter. We both nearly threw up again. One word - intense.

So far, I'm not experiencing the same difficulties walking, sitting down (car, chair and/or toilet) as I was after our last leg workout - Good thing now that I'm drinking vanilla flavored dog crap with "digestive enzymes."

So far, my leg pain is not preventing me from wearing heels. I'm going to watch the last night of prelims at Miss Texas tonight for some motivation (and to watch Taylor, who was my teen when I was Miss Longview, as a beautiful accomplished young woman competing for Miss Texas!) Seriously, nothing makes you want to lose weight more than hanging out with old friends from the "pageant days" (and watching a bunch of skinny b*tches march across the stage in high heels and a swimsuit and remember when you used to be their size). Maybe this will re-motivate me since the scale is not doing the trick.

Post #4 from my old life: weight loss adventures of June 30, 2009

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

"Digestive Enzymes"

As you see, we're experimenting with the protein shakes. We made the chocolate shake last night with milk (we can have 8oz of milk per day) and it was not too bad. From now on, I will listen to the meathead and not go off on my own in protein-land.

Jared noticed that the label on the vanilla shakes boasts "award winning taste." Compared to what? I don't want to know. We also noticed that the label states that this vanilla powdered crap contains "digestive enzymes." Super! We don't know what that is, but at least there's some benefit to drinking this awful stuff.

Wrong again. Approximately 2 hours after my morning vanilla shake yesterday, I discovered that Elite Nutrition LIES. Those vanilla shakes do NOT have an award winning taste and "digestive enzymes" is just a meathead way of saying "explosive doo-doo."

This is ridiculous. The fourth of July is on Saturday, we can have no hotdogs, no beer and no potato salad or apple pie. I believe this diet is unpatriotic, un-American and down right unconstitutional.

Maybe not. But the 4th is going to suck if we can't have beer and fried chicken, which we cannot. I'm scared Adolphus would hunt us down and make us swim across Grapevine Lake. Chicken breast and water it is. Bring on the fire works!

Post #3 from my old life: weight loss adventures of June 29, 2009

He took away our milkshakes...

I would comment on whoopin' #3, but it was arms, bicepts and chest, and after being dragged around my whole life by 1400 pound horses, I'm finding my upper body to be pretty strong (if I could just find the muscles under all of this fat!) Jared did not find it quite as easy, but I will not embarrass him by telling everyone that I held up better on the benchpress than he did - ooops!

The diet is a whole other story. During one of our 1 minute recovery breaks, I strolled over to the supply of whey protein for sale at the studio to compare our shakes (we needed to re-supply, so I wanted to make sure we were on the right track). BIG MISTAKE. Adolphus went with me and after the 5th degree regarding the calories and carbs in our current shakes, which tasted fabulously like milkshakes, he took them away.

After getting home and showering, we headed to the Vitamin Shoppe for our weekly protein shopping trip looking for something that's edible. We finally located who Jared lovingly calls the "Roided-out Meathead" who pointed us towards some yummy "chocolate truffle" flavored whey protein with 100 calories and ZERO carbs per shake. Adolphus would be proud. Then, I had the brilliant idea to just try the kind Adolphus was selling at the studio since he would certainly approve of those. Yet another BIG MISTAKE.

Sunday night, we finished the last of our yummy, yummy low-carb shakes and poured one out for our homey (i.e. the fun and tasty life we used to live). And, we tried the new chocolate truffle shakes. Not bad. They taste like chocolate milk that's on the verge of going sour. But, they're edible. Maybe we made good decisions...the vanilla can't be too much worse, right?

WRONG. On Monday, June 29, 2009 at approximately 10am, for the first time I tasted vanilla flavored dog shit. Within minutes, an email popped up from Jared regarding the disgusting shakes. I know Adolphus will tell us that he would "eat dirt" if it provided the proper nutrition, but he's talking to people who love food! Normal people would throw out these vanilla shakes, but not us....we're thrifty....we'll finish them out holding our noses and taking big gulps.

Has it only been one week??

Post #2 from my old life: weight loss adventures of June 24, 2009

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Whoopin #2

Who's idea was it to work out at 6am? Oh yeah, that was MY bright idea.

Today was back and tricepts. Not too bad other than the core work, which always kicks our butts. I found a lot of the exercises today to be similar to riding, so I'm pretty strong there. The ab work this morning was a pilates type stretch out body on ground and then crunch (holding a bar) - Jared was hilarious trying to get coordinated on those exercises - We were on the ground with our feet facing each other. When I lifted up for the crunches, all I could see was him rolling around trying to find his balance and his feet were flailing around. He got it, though, and we're on our way to our six-pack (abs, not beer, yet). My abs are sore and neck is sore (just the muscle that connects it to my shoulders!), but the rest of me feels ok right now - I'll see if I'm still feeling "ok" on Friday.

The hard part this morning was breakfast at 4:45am before our 6am workout. I think we need to get up earlier - I still nearly threw up after about 30 min of the workout. This is really intense.

Before we left, in case he hadn't whooped us enough, we found out our weight and body fat percentage. I have the body fat count of an out of shape 60 year old. Seriously? Seven years ago this week, I was prancing around on a stage in Fort Worth in a swimsuit. I've gone from 24 to 60 in 7 years?? Dog years?? Nice. Now I'm sore and have low self esteem. I'm glad Adolphus is enjoying himself.

Post #1 from my old life: weight loss adventures June 2009

 

Adolphus

When I first talked to Adolphus, he informed me "if you haven't trained with Adolphus, you haven't worked out." Adophus is an honest man.

We arrived on Saturday morning spry and ready to work out after eating a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. We were immediately informed that we'd likely throw up, that our food was all wrong and that there were no breaks just because this was a trial session. Ugh-oh.

Eliptical for 5 min then onto work-out for legs. Quad and leg presses, squats and lunges. Pretty grueling at first. Then, we did another set and I started wondering what we were doing there. By the third exercie, I decided it was better to be fat. By the next rotation, I wondered if I'd survive this experience. And, before we were finished, Jared and I were yelling "yes sir!" This was not personal training - it was freaking bootcamp. But, 45 minutes later, we had managed not to puke, we were headed out the door with our new diet plan and an appointment for 6am Wednesday. Me, Jared and our four "Bambi Legs" headed home.

Fast Forward One Hour: YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME. I could not get up and down out of a chair. I could not bend over in the shower. I cannot get in and out of the car without wincing. Isn't the second day supposed to be the worst pain? We survived Saturday nonetheless.

Sunday, the sabbath. I would have gone to church, but I was barely able to get out of the bed. When I did get out of the bed, I figured I'd better stay standing since it hurts like hell to get to a standing position. Forget squatting to pick anything up off the ground (ask Jared who accidently dropped something at the grocery store - we both stared at it for about a minute before working up the courage to try to squat to the ground - BIG mistake). And, we found a whole new hurdle - the toilet. How much does it cost to install handicap railings and a higher toilet?? We almost found out. Did you ever realize that the toilet is lower than a chair and requires some level of quadrecept strength to reach it? I didn't either until Sunday. Well - at least we're not working today, right? Advil and the pool should do the trick - oh, hell, we'd better just jump into the water since the stairs and ladder are out of the question.

Monday - The second day IS the worst pain. Our 92 year old founding partner is walking around the firm like a speed demon compared to me. I'm glad my chair has armrests or I'd have to stand up to work. And, thank the Lord, our bathroom has a handicapped toilet with a rail. Monday may be ok after all.

By Tuesday, the pain has decreased to a manageable level. Yay. We get to start over tomorrow. And, now we're two days into the diet and I'm getting cranky.