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Restored

Welp, it happened.

After living apart for two and a half years, after 11 years of marriage, 19 years after we first met, John and I got divorced. Actually, we dissolved our marriage, but do the technicalities even matter? In a small courtroom in the middle of the day, we stood in front of a judge for exactly 6 minutes and we all signed a piece of paper that effectively ended our marriage. It had all the pomp and circumstance of paying a traffic ticket. It was all done in under an hour.

And now I’m at home and while I swore I would take advantage of the day off and be productive, I’m resigned to my couch watching Bachelor in Paradise and judging these fools that think they can find happiness with someone else for the rest of their lives. What a bunch of pretty idiots. Oh, you had an “ahhhmaazing” 2 weeks with a hot stranger on the beach and now you’re ready for an engagement? Mmmk. Let me know how that works out, Maurisa.

I’m not going to talk about why we got divorced, so if you’re reading this to try to get the scoop, you’re in the wrong place. I’m also not going to minimize this period with a blanket statement like the kind celebrities put out. “After deep reflection, we have decided to move into new directions separately. While we have great love and respect for one another, we’re better suited as loving co-parents and best friends. Please respect our privacy at this time.” Two and a half years is a long time to go through a ~~divorce~~ disillusionment and there is no statement that can sum up what we’ve endured. Finally, I’m not here to pretend that I’m ok. Sometimes I am and sometimes I’m not. I’m ashamed. I’m embarrassed. I’m unhealthy. I’m empowered. I’m struggling. I know it’s for the best. I know it was probably my fault. I know I could have done better. I know we were never going to make it. Grief is an unpredictable cycle.

The reason I’m here to is introduce myself. Rather, I’m going to re-introduce myself. Hi. My name is Deborah Andrews. I know that most of you have known me as Deborah Day for over a decade. Many of you call me D.Day. This blog handle was created based on that nickname. But, after a strong suggestion from my now ex-husband, my maiden name is now restored.

Can I be honest? I feel weird about it.

So much of my identity is wrapped up in my married name. It’s on my Master’s Degree. It’s the name I share with my children. I’ve made a name for myself professionally with it. And let’s face it, it’s catchy! Strangers tend to smile when they ask me for my name. “oh, that’s cute. Like Doris Day!” Some have told me it sounds like I’m a Meteorologist for a news station. Others have said it sounds like a porn star. No matter what end of the spectrum people associate it with, it’s a memorable name. But it doesn’t belong to me anymore.

Now, I get the take on the arduous task of updating my entire life. Good thing I haven’t done anything major this year like buy a house or renew my passport! Hahahahah OH WAIT! I am also the least equipped person to do this. I hate filling out forms, mailing stuff, standing in line at government, you know, adult stuff. Beyond the administrative burden, there is also the social awkwardness of updating people.

“No, no, I WAS Deborah Day when I was married but now I’m not so it’s back to Andrews. Yeah, I didn’t get remarried, more like unmarried. No, my kids are not hyphenating their names. They’re keeping their father’s name. What’s that? Oh, yes, it is sad, thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

The other part that makes me feel weird is trying to re-identify myself with Deborah Andrews. The girl that had that name feels so foreign to me sometimes. I mean, she was a hot mess. If you knew me in my early 20’s and still stuck around, God bless you. Young Debbie Andrews could only afford to furnish her first apartment because the guy that lived there before died and she asked the leasing agent if she could keep his furniture. Lil D once had to call in sick for work because she couldn’t afford the gas it required to get there. This is the girl that, on more than one occasion, passed out eating pizza on her lap and then woke up and ate it for breakfast. She used to have to delete her boyfriends number from her phone when she went out drinking because she would send too many angry texts to him. Deborah Andrews fell off the roof of a house on New Year’s Eve because she thought she had forgot her house keys only to find out the door was unlocked the whole time.

No one she went to high school with expected her to go on to get her Graduate Degree, let alone go to a good college. Not the same girl that could barely break a 20 on her ACT’s. Not that one chick that was two grades behind in Math and never saw the 2nd round of a spelling bee. That girl? I wonder what happened to her…

(Clearly, I have a loud inner critic and a very difficult relationship with the past. I’m working on it.)

As I prepare to restore my name, I’m trying to combine these two versions of myself. The mess and the mother. The introvert and the extrovert. The single one and the divorced one. Suddenly, I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore.

I was catching up with a very dear friend of mine, one of the friends that has stuck around after knowing me in my 20’s. I told him about the name change and how weird I felt and he gave me a response that changed my entire perspective.

“That’s not a change for me at all. I’ve never really known you as Deborah Day. You’re still in my phone as Debbie Andrews. That’s the person I met in the first place.”

I realized that while it doesn’t roll off the tongue as easy and the nicknames are limited, it feels good to be an Andrews again. It’s the name I share with my parents and siblings. It’s the name on my Bachelor’s degree. Deborah Andrews did some pretty cool shit. She worked on a television show. She packed up her life and moved to Austin without a plan and made it work. She made her best friends there and kept the old ones close, too. She met a good man and got him to fall in love with her and marry her. She believed in unconditional love. She endured hard things.

She still can.

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We’re All in Transition

“So, yeah,” I said, with a smile creeping across my face. “I feel good!”

“That’s great,” my therapist encouraged. “That begs the question… do you want to keep scheduling with me?”

It was all happening. My life finally felt like it was falling back into place. I hadn’t had a panic attack or anxious episode in a few months. My depression felt under control. My job was going great. My separation with my husband was in a peaceful place and we were co-parenting like rock stars. I was in a relationship and feeling happy. I was sober for the first time in years. I’m all better now, I thought.

“Maybe just once a month for maintenance and we’ll go from there,” I said with excitement. I exhaled a deep breath of satisfaction.

That was 2 months ago. What a fool. What a beautiful, arrogant, short-sighted fool. You thought everything was all honky freaking dory when little did you know, you were one global pandemic away from falling all the way back down to the bottom of the well.

How are you guys doing? Are you staying safe? Are you staying sane? Are you sick of asking people that every day? Are you sick of hearing it every day? I know I am. As RHONY’s Dorinda once said, “How’m I doing? Not well, bitch!”

I should have sensed that this was the beginning of the Twilight zone when I spent my son’s birthday party with my estranged husband, his girlfriend, my boyfriend, and ALL OF OUR CHILDREN together. That was the first time I drank in nearly 50 days. We hadn’t even started working from home yet.

Before I delve into this blog any further, let’s just get all the gratitude stuff out of the way. I’m grateful for my health and the health of my family. I still have a job and I’m able to spend money locally to support struggling businesses and less consciously on grocery store runs for snacks and puzzles. I have a roof over my head. I have people who love me. I have more than I deserve.

More importantly, though, this is all super freaking hard. And yes, everyone is having a hard time, but sometimes it feels like everyone else has this figured out but me.

Let’s talk about working from home. The first week was kind of fun, right? Look at us, figuring out Zoom! Checking in for our one-on-ones. Slacking up a storm. Wearing leggings. How fun! Look at all the time we have back from not commuting! What a treasure! Guys, we should treasure this time. We’ve always said we’d get so much more done if we could just work remotely and now here’s our chance! Let’s do it!

Then, complacency kicks in. I used to be able to wake up before 6, make breakfast, get a work out in and get ready all before I head to be at work at 8. Now, I can barely drag myself out of bed before 7:45. Wearing leggings all day sounded great until I tried to button pants on one day. My neck is killing me from being slumped over. I walk around my place like a gorilla in a cage at the zoo. And even though everyone else is also working from home, I keep feeling like everyone is hanging out without me. I miss my coworkers and I’m sad at the end of our Zoom meetings.

Let’s talk about parenting. Here’s the thing: you still have to do that while you’re working from home. Here’s the other thing about Shelter in Place: you still have to teach your kids while you’re parenting them and also working from home. And here’s the REAL kicker: when you’re a single mom that lives in a 700 square foot, 1-bedroom apartment, you have to do that all by yourself.

Things are not going well. I am not equipped for this. My brain thinks I am equipped for this. Years of having High Functioning Depression have led me to believe that I should do everything all of the time and if I can’t then I am worthless. Most of this was under control (see paragraph 3) this whole situation has set me back years. I suddenly feel responsible for delivering them a world-class education (one that includes speaking Spanish, mind you) on a shoestring budget. So basically, I feel like every teacher.

“Just make a plan and stick to it,” I’d say, as I put together my version of a “lesson plan” that everyone’s mom was sharing on Facebook. Kids need structure so if I just make a daily agenda, we’ll all be fine, right? I planned the whole thing out and my kids were excited to take on the day. They got through each “center” before 10am. “Now what, Mommy??”

Here’s a fun arts and crafts idea: I’ll let them make a collage out of things they find in old magazines! I’m sure that’ll stimulate some sort of fine motor skill or understanding of shapes and colors. You know, learning stuff! The end result was an obscene amount of glue on my floor, a fight that broke out over the pair of scissors that resulted in me getting stabbed in the wrist, and my oldest son creating a dramatic reenactment of my separation. (Look, mom! These two people were together and now ::rips picture apart:: they aren’t! Just like you and daddy!)

My youngest has no concept of what is going on. I feel like I am one of Drew Barrymore’s family members in the movie 50 First Dates, explaining to him everything that has happened leading up to that day.

“Good morning! Everything is shut down because people are getting sick. We can’t go to school anymore but you still have to learn. Mommy needs to work still but we can take a break at lunch to stand in the front yard. Everything is fine.”

“Can we go to Magic Mountain?”

“No”

“Why?”

“Because everything’s closed.”

“What about a museum?”

“Also closed”

“Is it a weekend?”

“It’s a Tuesday”

“Why are we still in pajamas?”

“Because we are being responsible by staying home!”

Then there is the act of keeping them safe. Early in the quarantine, I made the mistake of taking them to the grocery store to secure some basic necessities since they blew through my entire pantry in 42 hours. “Don’t touch ANYTHING,” I warned. “Keep your hands to yourself and be prepared to get in and out.”

They touched everything. We were there for 45 minutes. Sensing that I would do anything to get them to cooperate, they started testing what they could put in the basket and as a result, I ended up spending $180 when all I really needed was cat food. I needed to step-up my scare tactic game to get these kids to learn.

“Mom, why can’t I touch things?”

“Because you might die.”

Feeling bad, I corrected myself. “You probably won’t die, it’s just that you might actually kill someone else.”

Much better.

When I am not keeping them from licking surfaces or rubbing their hands on their faces, I am just trying to keep my shit together. There’s a complete feeling of helplessness that seemed so silly at first. While this pandemic was all around me, it wasn’t directly affecting me so complaining about staying at home just seemed tone-deaf, especially when people are dying. Even seeing posts about allowing yourself to “grieve” the loss of normalcy only made me realize why old people hate “snowflakes”. People, it’s NOT that hard! Toughen up! But now that we approach 23 days of this new normal, I feel completely resigned to it. And because I am a snowflake, I feel like I am reliving the 2016 election results every day, looking around and trying to figure out what in God’s name the future will hold. I cry every day over the smallest things, like listening to a podcast or seeing a clickbait video. I cry every day over the biggest things, like my marriage ending and the loss of a dream both of us had. I cry in front of my children. I cry in front of my ex. I mostly cry by myself.

The other thing about working from home while parenting from home while teaching from home when you’re a single parent is that you only have your kids for half the week. I used to be able to leave for work, come home, and give my entire evening to them. Now, there are so many blurred lines between roles during the day, I often can’t manage it without losing my temper constantly. When they leave and the collages, paper scraps, unfinished writing lessons, and make-shift box cars are put away, I feel completely empty and robbed. I am full of regret for every frustration that I took out on them. I hate myself for not having more compassion and checking in with them to see how they are doing, if they are safe, if they are sane.

“No one is doing ok,” my therapist reminds me.

“I know,” I sigh. “I just want to go back to feeling good.” Back to when I was sober. Back to when I wasn’t anxious all the time. Back to when I felt like I could get out of bed. Back to when happiness was in my grasp.

“Happiness is a feeling, not a destination,” she says as we wrap up our appointment. “So, same time next week?”

“Yup. Go ahead and make it a reoccurring invite.”

Stuff and Things

I am going to be honest. I almost didn’t publish this blog. I almost didn’t even write this blog. Why? I donno. My #oneless thing efforts just feel so… 2019. But, a deal’s a deal, so here is the conclusion of my year of selected abstinence.

Challenge: Not Buying Anything!

The Rules: There are MANY caveats to this one. The main guideline was that I could not spend money on THINGS outside of the basic necessities from the grocery store. I wasn’t allowed to do any Christmas shopping unless I was making someone food (which I didn’t even end up doing). I didn’t intend on including going out to eat but I ended up cutting this out drastically as well.

Why I Cut it Out: I have a complex relationship with shopping. For the most part, I am a very frugal person. I will stretch a dollar as far as it can go. Once I dropped my Blackberry and cracked it so badly that the only function that worked was the Voice Activation feature. That’s it. I couldn’t even answer calls when they came in. I used that phone for a good month after that before getting a new one. Discount Fashion Warehouse is my JAM. I have rarely paid full price for anything. I am the person who says “We have food at home” in most situations that include food.

For some reason, I have always been worried about going bankrupt. I almost typed “being poor” but there were definitely times in my life where I was just that! My first job was working for public television which paid so little it felt like I owed the station money each week. I had no real idea how to handle my budget and on many occasions, I had absolutely no money in my account. One day, my gas tank was on empty and I didn’t have enough money to fill it up. Even the loose change I had wouldn’t have gotten me to work. Too far to walk and too complicated to take mass transit, I actually had to call in sick for work until I got paid the next day. That’s right. I was too poor to go to work. (Side note: I retold this story to a coworker who thinks it’s the funniest thing she has ever heard. She laughs much harder than needed to, actually, but it’s probably because I’ve clearly come a long way since then).

This should make abstaining from shopping easy, right? Wrong. Though I can go for long periods of time without shopping for myself, I definitely fall victim to retail therapy. Sometimes, there is just no better feeling than trying on a beautiful dress and having it fit perfectly. Where am I going to wear said dress? I’ll figure that out later, thankyouverymuch. Inevitably, buyers remorse kicks in and all of a sudden, I feel like I’m 22 years old, scrounging for loose change just to get to work. I don’t even spend a lot of money on myself, but I’ll stew over a $40 purchase for weeks.

December is clearly the most expensive month of the year. Not only is there Christmas shopping to consider, but it always feels like a new opportunity for me to buy dresses that I won’t ever wear. With a tighter budget than usual and a closet with too much cocktail attire in it for a 36-year-old, I decided to abstain from shopping.

The Results: You guys. This was the most GENIUS idea! I’m really proud of myself for coming up with it, actually. It’s important to remember that I had planned this beforehand, which is necessary because otherwise, I would have just been the jerk that didn’t have any gifts for anyone because of BLOG. You may think that is a cop-out but in reality, it forced me to actually think about what people wanted and not just what was available for me to buy them. I really tried to get gifts that were more personal in nature, even for my children. When you have young kids, Christmas can become a commercial nightmare. There is a premium price on your kid’s happiness. Thankfully, my kids are young enough to have very low expectations. I bought things throughout the year that I thought they would like and made an effort to get a lot of things secondhand for the more “mainstream” items. Looking back at it now, I probably overspent on them, especially when I see how much time they are still spending in JUST the cardboard boxes…

There were a few people that I didn’t get a chance to buy for before December 1st, and those people became the lucky recipients of my CRAFTING. Am I great at it? No. Do I do it anyway? You betcha. My sister-in-law got some last-minute coasters made from scrap paper and old tiles. It took 10 minutes, which sounds thoughtless, but she’s moving into a new place and the paper reminded me of a fern tree she has, so it actually turned out great.

For my mom, I printed out pictures from our Sister trip to Ireland. They were on tiles as well and meant to be coasters, but she insisted on finding a way to hang them because she didn’t want anyone to put their wet glasses on her daughters’ faces. Fair enough.

My brother got some Modge Podge artwork from quotes I found on Tumblr from his favorite show Bojack Horseman. I got some canvas frames, colored them with a permanent marker, dripped rubbing alcohol over it, and painted it with a watercolor brush. Then I added the pictures and glazed the crap out of them. The results were lackluster IMO but the reaction from my brother was priceless. He looked truly touched. I mean, I do what I can, ya know?

Overall, there was nothing but upsides to this challenge. Was it easy? No, not at all. It felt like all social media and email providers were conspiring against me with the constant emails and notifications. “Psst. Hey. You there. I know you’ve been looking at this sweater. You know what? I never do this but for YOU? 20% off today, what do ya say!” On the other hand, not spending money means avoiding the mall in the month of December, which actually felt like the best gift I could have given to myself. I didn’t even take my kids to see Santa. Judge me.

Look, the holidays are hard. Somehow, what should be the most gracious time of year becomes a month-long comparison with other people and even yourself. It’s the time of year that we look back and see where we are and how far we’ve come, and that’s not always a good thing. I feel like I have spent most of this year comparing my life now to how it used to be and really weighing if I’m better off or not. At least with this challenge, I didn’t have to include Stuff and Things to that comparison.

Here’s what I know for sure: The best gifts ARE from the heart. My oldest son, whos is 1000% made of my DNA, also took to crafting. He found popsicle sticks and used tape and markers to create something for just about anyone. On my mantel, I still have a Spanish fan from my wedding day. He made me another one out of popsicle sticks. I could have died from fulfillment.

The little things. There was never anything bigger.

In conclusion, we did it, guys. Rather, I did it. I really gave up one thing each month this year. So what does it all mean? What did I learn?

Find out next week.

Rest Days

It’s Black Friday, y’all and you know what that means! BOGO TIME! Buy 1, Get 1 Blog for free! Even though you aren’t buying this and probably didn’t even ask for it, you get 2 blogs about my #onelessthing challenge for the price of just one hour of your time! (One of these days, I’ll be succinct but it won’t be today.)

Why am I doing this? Look, November is hard. Everyone talks about December being stressful but November is a challenge of its own. There are three holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. And while only one of them technically falls in November, I still deal with candy and decorations from Halloween through the first week, get stressed out about Thanksgiving plans immediately after, and somehow convince myself that the following day is Christmas. It’s a lot. So, I had every intention of writing my blog about my October challenge early this month and all of a sudden, I’m hours away from going home for Turkey Day.

Challenge: No Working Out!

Rules: It’s as easy as that, y’all. No gym time. No running outside. Not conscious exercising whatsoever. That doesn’t, however, mean that I couldn’t make healthy choices like taking the stairs instead of the elevator, stretching in the morning, and doing a few planks for continued back support. Other than that, I planned on not breaking a sweat.

Why I cut it out: If you didn’t read my last post, I just completed an Olympic Length triathlon. This is my longest distance but my third Tri event. Prior to this, I have done multiple 5Ks, one half-marathon, and one full marathon. Now, this rap sheet might sound like I am in peak physical condition, but these accomplishments have done nearly nothing for my figure other than being what my doctor describes as “completely average”. While I feel in shape, I am not industry-standard skinny. I work out more than my peers and I have the largest dress size. Must be my diet, right? Have you read what I have given up this year? Someone asked me once what my favorite fast food place is and I didn’t have an answer. I don’t eat fast food. I have a clean diet 87% of the time. Yet, in spite of all of this, I look more like Kelsey Wells before picture than someone who completed 4 triathlons.

I didn’t always work out. My legs are in shape but my belly is a big ole mess. One in high school, a boy passed a note around the classroom that accidentally got to me and it said, “Is it just me, or is Debbie a little chunky?” COOL, GUYS. Don’t get me started on my weight in college or post-grad. In terms of being attractive, I got by on my glutes and mediocre personality for years. Instead, I became one of those rare women who somehow became skinner post-baby making. No clue how it happened. It probably has something to do with my kids consuming my breast milk at all hours of the day and that I didn’t sleep more than 5 hours a night for 4 years. Also, the crippling, high-functioning anxiety helped. But, why split hairs. I was fitting into my skinny jeans and that’s all that mattered!

After my 2nd child, I decided that I didn’t really care about being skinny because I would rather be strong. I started pushing myself into new workouts like HIIT exercises and tabata workouts. Then, at the beginning of the year, I started strength training. I loved the results I was getting and seeing my body change. “Triathlon training is really going to make me look shredded,” I thought, foolishly.

False.

All of my strength training went down the drain. My metabolism changed and I was losing muscle and gaining weight. In addition to that, I was really putting my body through the wringer. My joints would be inflamed after every run. My lower back hurt after bike rides. My shoulders ached the first few months after swimming.

I cannot WAIT for this to be over, I thought. After the triathlon, I just had 15 days before I could officially step away from the gym.

The Results: The short version is that I’m fat and happy now. Well, I am not fat. No one IS fat. You HAVE fat. It’s not the defining trait of your existence. I just have more of it now than I did at the beginning of October. I also have more time with my kids and spend less time looking at myself in the mirror. Though it took a few weeks, I no longer equate not making it to the gym with being an inferior person, which is a huge development. Working out definitely gave me an outlet for my anxiety but it also became another area to judge myself and allow really destructive thoughts about my self-worth. Eventually, I was able to find it really freeing to stop caring about what I looked like.

I was sure that I would use this month to eat healthy because “a good body is made in the kitchen” but I stopped being so hard on myself. “Eat the cookie. You’re going to be ok if you have some fries,” I’d tell myself. “Being in shape should be the least interesting thing about you.”

So, I hit snooze on the alarm, spent more quality time with my kids, went to that happy hour that I would have missed for a cycling class, and stop counting calories. And people still like me. And I still like me. Everything’s gonna be ok.

Also, in November, I gave up dairy but that story is horribly uninteresting and I’ve already taken enough of your time. After all, it’s black Friday and you have some corporate overlords to appease with your shopping!! No judgment! I do too. In fact, I need to get in all done before December because next month, my challenge is…

NOT BUYING ANYTHING!

Stay Tuned
NOTE: Featured image is from my amazing trip to Ireland which I could honestly write a novel about. Maybe that will be my 2020 challenge…

It’s Not About the Coffee

“Time isn’t holding up.
Time isn’t after us”
– David Byrne

Challenge: No Coffee

Rules: No coffee, hot or cold. No caffeine substitutes. Only Sleepy Time Tea permitted.

Why I Cut it Out: Funny story. I didn’t! I had every intention to cut it out. I got off to a great start, especially considering that Day 1 landed on the Sunday after a very full wedding weekend in Chicago. But things took a turn around day 6. Let me back up.

The day that I was leaving for Chicago, I went to CVS to pick up a refill on my anti-anxiety meds. Through a series of unfortunate events, my practitioner hadn’t approved my refill and then apparently fell off the face of the earth for 4 days. Though I’m not on a super high dose, anyone that has gone cold turkey off any medication can tell you that it truly sucks. I made it through the majority of the weekend just fine, though extremely irritable with my practitioner and random strangers on the street, but the withdrawal symptoms were kicking in on the way back home. I had vertigo, my head was pounding, my heart would randomly start racing, and all the anxiety was back. I FINALLY got my medication but it’s not easy to readjust once you’ve been off for longer than 48 hours. This made sleeping difficult and because of this, I was coming to work like an absolute zombie. I actually dozed off at my desk not once, not twice, but three times that first week. (this is actually a test to see if any of my coworkers actually read this blog. If so, just know that I was only out for 5 minutes. 7 minutes tops!) That week I had an appointment with my regular therapist and I told her about my symptoms of getting off and getting back onto meds. Then I told her about the No Coffee Challenge.

“Ok, well, I’m sorry, but that’s just dumb,” she said, bluntly. “Yes, high amounts of caffeine for someone with your anxiety is not recommended, but give yourself a break. You’re just coming off a Zoloft withdrawal. Why add caffeine withdrawal to your life right now?”

I took that light enablement and ran with it! One tall Americano, please!

I was going to just throw in the towel and say “Eff It” and not give anything up this month, but then the universe stepped in. A day after I gave into drinking coffee again, I accidentally smashed the face of my Apple Watch. Since this isn’t the first Apple product that I have mishandled, I knew that I could easily submit a request through Apple Care and get the face repaired, but I saw this as an opportunity to try a new challenge.

New Challenge: No Watch!

I got my watch on my birthday last year. I never had explicitly asked for it but somehow it became exactly what I wanted. I loved being able to record my workouts and see my heart rate, getting text updates or news alerts, and I even loved those gentle yet passive/aggressive reminders that it was time to stand up and do something with myself for God’s sake. The future is now!

The biggest benefit was using my watch during triathlon training. Being able to track my distances for the swim bike, and run helped me tweak my training and see improvements in my performance. Plus, I was connected to some coworkers and it would send them a notification when I completed a workout and vice versa. I can’t wait for them to see all the calories I’ll burn when I submit my workout on race day, I thought. Totally normal. Not competitive at all.

When people asked me if it was distracting, I would argue that it was no more so than my phone. The difference was I could just get the highlights instead of getting on my phone and falling down the internet suck tube. I now see that my friends were nonchalantly telling me that it was distracting. I was constantly looking at it. Every vibration on my wrist seemed important enough to break concentration from a friend’s story and look down. I had a Pavlovian response to the “Time to Stand” notifications as though I was a Russian sleeper cell getting orders. I was obsessed with closing all 3 Activity Rings. It was becoming a problem.

So, when I smashed the damn thing 3 weeks before the race, I was pretty upset. I had no clue how I was going be as effective without father time telling me if I was fast enough or not. The fact that I was even stressed about it showed me that I needed to give it up.

The Results:

There were many things that changed for me this month, but the most important was the time with my boys. For me, parenting is a competitive sport. Everything lives and dies by the clock. “Kids need a schedule,” someone once said and of all the parenting advice I have received, that one always stuck. I was sure that not having a watch to easily tell time would send our lives into chaos.

What actually happened was much better. Instead of saying things like “we need to be in the car in 4 minutes” and meaning it, I forced myself to take a beat and relax. The only one that “has” to be anywhere by 8am is me and it turns out, I have some really understanding bosses (at least, I did before I published this and they can see that I fell asleep at my desk). My kids always seem to have meltdowns or tantrums right in the threshold of leaving the house and now I could see why: they were reacting to their crazy, anxiety-ridden mother who was saying things like “T MINUS 90 SECONDS”. It’s a lot of pressure to put on the kids. Without my watch acting like a bomb that was about the explode, we took the necessary time to put ourselves together and leave. One day, we got all the way to school and my Little Man forgot his shoes. (Non-Parents are saying “How??” Parents are saying “Been there, done that.”) Having to drive all the way back home would have normally sent me spiraling, but as I looked at my son’s shoeless feet, I saw him shut down and get upset.

“Now you’re going to be late, right Mommy?” he asked, and I could feel how disappointed he was in himself.

“Nah, it’s fine,” I said. “We’ll just have a little more time in the car, that’s all”. And I meant it. We got to listen to the Lego Movie Soundtrack more and talk about his day. I couldn’t believe how many times I took our car rides for granted, all because I was worried about a timeline that didn’t even exist.

Other great side effects: Not being panicked about the terrifying news updates, actually responding to texts because I get them on my phone and don’t just see them, swipe, and forget to reply, and not giving a shit about how many steps I did (or didn’t) take that day.

So, what did you learn:

Let’s talk about the race. I registered for it in January when everyone is all hot and heavy on New Year’s Resolutions. Though I had been strength training for 5 months and cardio training for another 5, I was NOT feeling ready for this distance. I never had that euphoric feeling after a good run or swim that made me feel like I was going to do well. I was also training and doing this event all by myself. I didn’t have a training buddy or a mentor to do the race with me. I was all alone. “Everyone races alone,” I would tell myself.

I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day. It was chilly without humidity. The water was warmer than the air and there was a slight breeze instead of gusts of wind. The race started early and the sun was coming up as I began the near mile-long swim. It was a well organized but underfunded event. There were several different distances competing at once with various start-times so there were no clocks throughout the course until the finish line. That meant for the entire race, I had no idea how well I swam, how long I was in the transition areas, how many MPH I was going on my bike, or what my running pace was. I couldn’t even gauge this off other athletes as I was doing this alongside people competing in different distances. Did that girl pass me because she’s only doing the sprint distance or am I just slow? Did that guy lap me on the run because it’s his first lap or because he’s doing the 1/3rd Iron Man and he’s a beast? It was nerve-wracking at first and then surprisingly and suddenly, it was freeing. “You’re not competing with them,” I said, as a woman kicked by me in the water. “You’re not competing with them.” And then it washed over me like rain; all the times that I was comparing myself to other people, looking over my shoulder to see where everyone was, feeling empowered when I felt I was ahead of the game. My relationship with time was beyond a stupid accessory. This was about how many times I didn’t think I was where I was supposed to be, that I was too old to be trying new things, that I wasn’t fast enough, that I didn’t work hard enough, that I wasn’t enough. There I was, running with legs that were cramping up, watching person after person pass me, trying not to feel defeated.

“You’re not competing with them,” I said over and over to myself. “You never were.”

At the finish line were my babies, holding handmade signs and jumping up and down. When I crossed the finish line, I wanted to cry. Race Volunteers put a wet towel on my shoulders and handed me the “you participated in this event” medal.

“Mommy, you won!” my kids shouted.

“Yup,” I replied. “I sure did.”

I didn’t. Didn’t even come close to where I wanted to finish. Not that it matters. My only goal was to finish and then never do another race again. My body is getting older and it feels like I have been working out every day for 3.5 years.

Which is why in October, I’m giving up…

WORKING OUT

Stay Tuned.

Fresh-Faced

MHi! It’s September which means it’s my birthday month which means I’m riddled with anxiety and self-loathing so let’s just get right into last months challenge, SHALL WE!

Challenge: No Make-Up

Rules: No cosmetic make-up whatsoever. No foundation, no blush, no lipstick, no eye shadow. I’m gonna be honest I did sometimes apply ONE layer of mascara because without it I feel completely invisible and eyelashes are technically hair so it’s pretty much just haircare. Other than that, I was a fresh-faced as they come. Cut me some slack, Jack!

Why I Cut it Out: Let’s be real: it wasn’t until very recently that I feel like I KINDA figured out how to apply make-up properly. Despite raising 3 daughters, my mom never actually taught me how to wear make-up. In fact, I wasn’t allowed to wear it until my senior year in High School and that’s only because I would just gradually applying blue or purple eye shadow on overtime until my mom gave in. It was also a simpler time, the late 90’s. There was no Instagram or Facebook reminding you that you weren’t pretty enough. No YouTube make-up tutorials showing you how to contour your face. Hell, did people even do contouring back then? This was a time when *most* teenagers actually looked like teenagers. So, only applying sparkly eye shadow and some mascara to go out was all I needed to do. I was also kind of blessed to have relatively good skin with only the occasional breakout. Finally, I am a very frugal person and buy most of my make-up at grocery stores. I have almost no brand loyalty and will try just about anything with a coupon.

So how did this non-event make it to the #OneLessThing list? Fast forward 18 years (dear God) and I’ve finally grown into my womanhood. Working in professional environments, I always felt the need to dress… professionally. Make-up is just part of the uniform if you are wearing pantsuits and pencil skirts to the office. I never understood when women would show up to the office in a beautiful dress, heels, accessories without a lick of make-up and wet hair. Girl, get it together! Finish the job!

It’s also no secret that post-college, I fluctuated with weight pretty regularly. I was a light as 125 and as heavy as 160 (and that’s BEFORE getting pregnant). In my heavier days, I felt like the only way I felt attractive was to wear make-up. It was like a protective layer for me. You would think that reaction would subside once I lost weight (ironically after I had kids), but it actually was the opposite. Once I felt like I was in the shape that I wanted, I had this need to be seen as attractive. I couldn’t walk around with giant bags under my eyes and tiny, unlacquered lashes just flapping about. I needed people to see me and think “wow”. Even short trips outside the house were usually equipped with the basics of foundation and mascara. I just felt so dull without it.

When I put this list together at the beginning of the year, I knew I had to address this ugly side of myself that felt the need to be pretty all of the time. So, on the list, it went.

The Results: When people would ask me what I was giving up in August and I said “Make-up”, 9/10 times, the response was “In AUGUST? When it’s hot and you’ll be sweaty?” I didn’t really think of the sweaty part as much as the I’ll be all bronzed up from the sun part. And that bet paid off! With all of the triathlon training I have done outside, I’ve established a nice little baseline glow (YES I’m using sunscreen. I’m Mexican. All of my melanin just rises to the surface when the sun is out.) Also, it felt great to not wear foundation as my face turned bright red and sweaty from these outdoor runs in 90-degree heat. When I used to work out at the end of the day, I would finish up looking like a college chick leaving a packed club at 2am; smudged eyeliner, rosy cheeks, raccoon eyes from mascara. Now I just look like the Kool-aid man after my runs! Pure red but no bags.

Another great outcome was the time I got back in the morning. What a true blessing an extra 30 minutes can be when your life is as chaotic as mine. I got to spend more cuddle time with my babies, actually make breakfast at home instead of alienating my coworkers with my microwave eggs, and spend my time planning my day instead of worrying about how I looked. I was sure that I would spend more time on my hair and outfits to overcompensate, but as it turns out, you let one thing go and you start to let other things go, too. Washing my hair more? Pssshh. I’d rather keep sleeping. When I did wash it I just let it air dry. (PSA to guys reading this and getting grossed out, real women know that taking a shower and washing your hair are different things.)

One insecurity going into this month was that I wouldn’t have anything to hide my complexion. While I never had acne growing up, postpartum hormones are the gift that keeps on giving and they left me with re-occurring breakouts, specifically on my cheeks. The other PPA heirloom is compulsive skin picking, so I would aggravate the situation by trying to pop each pimple or blackhead upon its earliest appearance. How was I going to hide that if I didn’t have any cover-up? I decided to be proactive before August came and really stepped up my skincare routine, which included having a skincare routine! Remember, I’m frugal, so I never really invested in expensive face washes, scrubs, or serums. That didn’t change, but I did start buying peeling face masks. What an experience. These face masks don’t just look like you are peeling off a thin layer of your own skin, they feel like you are peeling off a layer of your own skin. Not exactly the self-care Sunday I was looking for, but Sheet Masks felt great and made me look like a precious angel baby when I was done.

The irony is that all it took to really clear up my skin was to STOP WEARING MAKE UP. Turns out, when you only buy grocery store foundation and use that to cover up acne on your face, you make it worse! Being free from all of that, I feel like my skin is clearer than it has been in years.

So, what did you learn? Of all the things I have abstained from this year, this had the most positive impact on me. I once heard someone say “It’s important to remember that people don’t think about you as much as you think they do”. It’s humbling and completely true. Guess what? Not one person gave a single shit that I didn’t have make-up on. The more I realized that I was wasting time and energy on something that didn’t matter to anyone else that matters, it felt so freeing to have it out of my life.

The last few days of this challenge were during my best friends’ wedding weekend, and what a weekend it was. Planned in a quick 5 weeks, she had the bachelorette party two days before the wedding. I had actually stopped wearing make-up at the end of July so that I could technically be make-up free for 30 days and done in time for the Bachelorette party, but when the day came around, I had no desire to put it on.

“So don’t,” a girlfriend said, with equal parts apathy and encouragement.

I didn’t. And we dressed up in our cute outfits and sailor hats, drank wine and martini’s, ate empanadas and laughed until our sides hurt. I can’t remember the last time I felt so much like myself. I can’t remember being so comfortable in my own skin. My bare, fresh skin.

2 weeks into September and I’ve only worn make-up once. Except for mascara. Gotta keep up with my hair care routine.

*Note* The featured picture is from that wedding weekend. I was on the floor, sometime after attempting to do the worm and singing Matchbox 20 at the top of my lungs while my friends passed out on each other. Beaming with happiness.

New Year New Meat

I’m going to be honest with you, internetland: This has been a hard month for me. This particular challenge wasn’t hard (as you’ll read below) but I struggled with a lot of feelings of failure this month. That coupled with the shootings in my old town of Dayton, Ohio and it just felt so dumb to put out a personal blog about how I’m not eating meat now. Everything I did felt really small and trite and insignificant. I’ve really put off publishing this because I’m still trying to sort out a lot of things in my life and I really don’t want anyone to read this and think that I have my sh!t together. Cuz I don’t. But a deal’s a deal and I promised myself I’d put a blog out each month. Let’s talk about what I did in July:

Challenge: No Meat!

Rules: Let me be clear: This challenge wasn’t “be a vegetarian for a month”. I just didn’t eat meat. No chicken, no red or white meat. No bacon. That’s pretty much it. All other animal byproducts were fair game. GET IT!

Why I Cut it Out: I feel like a social media influencer when I say this but, a lot of you guys have been asking me if I planned out what I was giving up ahead of time and the answer is Yes. I knew that food was something that I wanted to focus on but didn’t want to make it the sole focus of this year. The point was to cut out the things that were bad for me (like Sugar or Grains) and also create some challenges that just forced me to be more mindful. It also had to be challenging because, well, that’s sort of the whole point of depriving yourself of something. Since July is synonymous with BBQ’s, I felt that cutting meat out was fitting.

I’ve never gone full blown vegetarian before but I have cut back drastically on meat before. At my first recruiting job, we were expected to take candidates out to lunch every day. This will turn you off to restaurant food real quick. It sounds great at first, when you’re poor and working off commission and you get reimbursed for lunch, but the sheen wears off pretty quickly. Before you know it, you’re 11 pounds heavier and the hostess at Chewy’s greets you by name. I started to get grossed out by food really quickly, particularly meat. Didn’t trust it. Chickens really grossed me out. When people go nuts over Chic-fil-A, I don’t understand it. “They have THE best Buffalo chicken sandwich.” “OMG I can’t get enough of their chicken minis”. False. Anything soaked in a deep fryer and then drenched with Franks Hot Sauce is going to taste good. Have you ever had just a plain chicken sandwich at Chic-fil-A? Even more so, have you ever just eaten the plain chicken there, unseasoned? I haven’t but I probably wouldn’t and it’s probably not that good. Have you ever pictured the farm in which that chicken came from, overweight to the point where it can barely walk and acting like the 3rd replica of Michael Keaton in Multiplicity? Still want those chicken mini’s?

Let me be so clear about a few things. 1: I actually have no idea what the farm where the chickens from Chic-fil-A come from looks like, but I’m guessing any fast food company that pumps out millions of chicken sandwiches a day isn’t getting them from the free range farm down the road. 2: This disdain over chicken and meat in general has nothing to do with animal rights. I don’t give a shit about animal rights. I know that sounds cold, but other animals kill and eat each other. My cat tortures rodents. My friends dog brings in dead possums as trophies (#ziggymurder). Where’s PETA when that happens? I care about the treatments of HUMANS, and when random hormones that I don’t need get into my bloodstream because someone thinks that chicken breasts should look more plump, I take issue with that. 3: Please do not send me your PETA videos in reference to point #2.

Having said all of that, I have found myself eating a lot of meat over the past year. Most of my eating habits post babies have been some variation of the Paleo diet. When you’re not eating grains or processed food, meat becomes a cornerstone of your daily intake. It just became really easy to prepare chicken for the week or put some beef in a crock pot and go about my day.

So how would cutting it out make me happier or less anxious? I mean, isn’t that the point of this whole thing? It is. And no, I don’t think eating meat is contributing to my anxiety and depression, but I can’t say that there isn’t a relationship with the hormone-rich food that I’m eating and my increased levels of anxiety. Maybe it’s just the Instagram delusion but I just feel like vegetarians and vegans seem more at peace with themselves, right? Finally, at this point, I’m willing to try anything to get back to the relatively adjusted individual I was before my PPA kicked in and my life turned upside down.

The Results: In my head, my meals were going to look like a farm-to-table cookbook, lush with shades of green you can only find deep in the jungle and seasoned with the freshest herbs. I thought I would be exploring new recipes that included beets, bok choy, heirloom tomatoes, and jack fruit. My bowels were going to be as regular as any scheduled program. I was going to be the epitome of health and wellness.

The reality is that it’s much easier to eat bagels and pasta.

Breakfast was easy enough since I still ate eggs (Don’t @ me, vegans!) but lunch and dinner were challenging if I didn’t prepare ahead of time. I really have a love/hate relationship with empty carbs but I’m also training for an Olympic distance triathlon and a side salad for dinner was just not cutting it! So, many nights I just ate pasta or sandwiches or processed fake meat. (Side note, BIG BIG fan of the Impossible Burger. Veggies burgers are all I want now).

The point of these challenges are to clear the things that are potentially impacting my mental health and start to accept and love myself a little more. My failure to live up to this Veggie goddess standard was making me feel the opposite. I was eating like crap, overindulging in things like French fries and dinner rolls, and gaining back weight. My schedule is crazy and training became harder to squeeze in. I joked that the only part of my training that I was fulfilling was the Carbo-load. I actually felt more down about myself than I had all year.

Is this whole idea of #onelessthing actually making things worse?

So, what did you learn?

Right as I was about to throw in the towel for any future challenges, the month came to an end and I realized something: it’s OK to try something new and not learn anything. I’m not any worse off for eating pasta more than I usually do. It’s OK if I gain 5 pounds. If I limp across the finish line of the triathlon instead of beating my personal record, IT’S FINE! I’m not a professional athlete! I just need to let myself off the hook every once in a while.

At the beginning of every month, I keep getting this notion that I’ll stumble upon the remedy for my life. That I’m just one change away from happiness. At the end of this month, I was reminded of a quote from my favorite book, “Life After God” by Douglas Coupland:

“…in spite of everything that has happened in my life, I have never lost the sensation of always being on the brink of some magic revelation–that if only I would look closely enough at the world, then that magic revelation would be mine–if only I could wake up just that little bit more…”

He never does wake up a little bit more. None of us will. Even if my life is feels out of focus, it doesn’t mean that I can just clear up my vision with one small fix. I need to live at peace with the blurred lines and with all the ways that I disappoint myself. I need to forgive myself for not living up to some stupid expectation of perfection. If the point of working on myself one abstinence challenge at a time is becoming perfect, then this is not worth it. I’m flawed. The point is to accept the flaws and put into focus what matters.

I’m 2 weeks post-meat challenge and I realize how hard I was on myself. I actually only gained 3 pounds, and let’s face it, that can all go away with one quick stomach bug. (Update: stomach bug acquired. Weight lost. Don’t ask for details if you don’t want to know). I’m still training for the race in October and even when I need to stop mid run, I take the break that I need to keep going. If I can’t run straight through, so what? I’m still doing a freakin’ Olympic triathlon! That’s enough. I’m enough.

I actually don’t even really want meat anymore. I’ll eat it as necessary but it’s not a must-have on the grocery list. Plus, Burger King just started having the Impossible Burger so I’m all set. I just need to go easy on the fries.

Next Up: MAKE-UP!

Tuned Out

It’s OFFICIALLY summer, you guys! Yes, I know, it became summer on June 21st but if you live in the mid-west like I do, it really hasn’t felt like FULL BLOWN summer since the beginning of July when it finally became hot enough to complain about the weather. This is when most people do fun things outdoors like go to a pool, ride bikes, host a BBQ or vacation at a lake house. So many outdoor activities! But if you’re a lonely person like me without too many local friends, this is the time of year known as BEST TV EVER. Handmaids Tale is out. Big Little Lies is back. Stranger Things just dropped. Barry season 2! Even Dateline has new episodes. WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE!

Which is why I decided to continue to ~~deprive~~ challenge myself of one of the loves of my life…

Challenge: No TV!

Rules: Nothing from a personal television by myself, except for the Women’s World Cup matches because sports are interactive and I’m a feminist. Movies at a theater were allowed but only with the kids. This only happened once to see Toy Story 4 (9/10 would recommend).

Why I Cut it Out: I’ve known I needed to do this for quite sometime. I was talking to coworkers a while back and someone was asking for suggestions for their next binge-worthy show.

“Have you seen Orange is the New Black?” someone asked

“No. Is that the prison show?”

“Yes and it’s SO GOOD!” I chimed in. “If you’re into true crime, you should watch Making a Murderer first. I was HOOKED on that one.” Everyone agreed.

“If you want to do something light-hearted, I’d suggested Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. Or even Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee! We started watching Glow last week but haven’t gotten back into since Westworld came back on. But I also need to catch up on The Good Place.”

By this point, no one else was talking.

“How do you possibly have time to watch all this television?” someone asked. All eyes were on me.

“Oh, well, you know, just after the kids go to bed and stuff. And a little on the weekend, too.” I changed the subject to books to try to make myself sound like more than just a lazy pile of house cats, but this made me think. How DO I have all this time to watch TV? It felt like I was always looking for more time in the day to get things done but I also made time to cruise through House of Cards and Ozark in under a month. I definitely had the time to do things that are more constructive, I just didn’t WANT to do those things.

Here’s the other thing: I don’t have a TV in my room. I haven’t had that since 2006. I generally try to keep all electronics out of my room so that way when I get in bed, I actually go to sleep. The giant loophole to this problem is that I just end up doing the same thing on the couch. I’ll make myself a little blanket nook and cozy on up till the thought of moving sounds miserable. I end up staying up way too late in hopes that I’ll just pass out on the couch if I watch one more episode but I rarely do.

Finally, if you couldn’t tell from my above list, I watch a lot of anxiety-filled shows! I still have not recovered from the Season 2 opener of Hand Maid’s Tale. I also binged Haunting at Hill House at NIGHT. Not since my teenage years had I had nightmares that would scare me awake and prohibit me from moving, but that month, I was paralyzed with fear.

So, giving up TV, in theory, should have forced me to go to sleep earlier, reduce anxiety, and have less “screen time”.

The Results: False. It did not do those things. Turns out your phone is a pretty additive device, as I wrote about earlier, and that really scratched the itch of zoning out. So while I did a great job of not turning on my television and missing the Premier of Big Little Lies (NO SPOILERS!), I fell into the internet suckhole that is the Instagram discover page. I also got really into Pinterest again and started/engaged in many group chats.

Why was I doing these things? Shouldn’t I have just taken that time to sit in silence or meditate or even read one of those books everyone keeps talking about? Yeah, that was the plan. The problem is that for so long, I have only had a solid 1.5-2 hours MAX to myself every day (Have kids, they said. It will be great, they said). Once those lil guys go down, Mama needs some ME TIME. And since I only have about 5 braincells left at the end of the day and have spent half my quality time with my kids cleaning and cooking, the only thing I had energy to do was watch TV. It became my favorite thing because unlike half my meals, I didn’t have to share it with my kids. No one is trying to sit on my lap. No one else is talking to me. Its just me and all my pretend friends on the screen. Without TV, I still found the brainless distraction of my phone soothing, which basically meant it was my baby TV.

“So, what did you learn?”: First, I should clarify that I wasn’t ALWAYS playing on my phone at night. A lot of times, it paved the way for me to make plans and get out of the house. I also did do some cleaning and organization that I would have otherwise put off for the next day. Second, it also helped me to not rush bedtime with my kids. My youngest is a HUGE cuddler and nights when I put him down, he demands a very specific 3-7 minutes of cuddling. I would find myself being really tempted by a glass of wine and some murder mysteries and tell him “OK! Time’s up!” before it really was. That month, since there was only laundry to fold or a kitchen clean, I’d let myself stay there until he really fell asleep. So precious.

Third, I will always find a loophole. Can’t drink? I’ll eat some ice cream. Can’t have sugar? I’ll have a stiff drink. No TV? IGTV doesn’t count, does it? This whole “discipline” challenge has really thought me that everyone needs a way to blow steam and those destructive behaviors will manifest itself somehow. The goal for the rest of the year is to TRULY focus on being mindful and allow myself to feel the abstinence of the things I have given up.

After I finish catching up on Handmaids Tale.

Next up: MEATS!

The Music and The Misery

It is June, my friends, which means we are halfway through 2019. Honestly, no one is more surprised that I have stuck to my #onelessthing challenge more than me. I normally give up these sorts of things pretty quickly but the group accountability has been helpful. Anyone who knows I’m doing this will occasionally check in with me to see what I’m currently giving up. I get a wide range of responses but the common ones are “oooh man, I’d never be able to give up sugar!” “I NEED to get off Social Media”, “I’d never make it a month without booze”. But this month, I got much more negative feedback. One person kindly said “I’m sorry but I just don’t understand why you would do this” and another bluntly stated, “You are a f*cking idiot”. That person is an asshole, but his sentiment spoke to how most people were feeling because, well, you’ll see…

Challenge: No Music!

Rules: The framework was that I couldn’t wear headphones, listen to it in my car, or play anything at home. I was not about to regulate anyone else’s music intake, which means coworkers were free to play songs on the office speakers and I didn’t make anyone turn it off in the car although I did commit to not making musical requests.

Why I cut it out: Of all of the challenges I have done, this one takes the most to explain and makes me feel the most vulnerable, which is crazy because of how transparent I have been about anxiety, depression, and alcohol, but bear with me.

Music is incredibly personal to me. Back when iPods first came out, nothing would be more unnerving to me then when people would grab it to scroll through what songs I had on it. To me, that is the part of my life that is most telling of who I am and how I see the world. The playlists I put together are like pieces of art to me and not everyone is worthy of that art.

I blame Lindsay Demaray. She was my first musical soulmate. This was back in the days where having the ability to download music and burn CD’s from your computer put you in the upper echelons of society. There were kids in high school that would sell mixed CD’s for cash in the hallways between classes. Those quarterly album drops became THE soundtrack of high school parties. (Raise your hand if you personally purchased the SB2K01 mix your senior year).

Of those mini-producers, there were two kinds of people: those who could put a bunch of songs together and those who could artfully craft the perfect mixed CD. Lindsay Demaray mastered that craft. She understood that you gotta get their attention with the first track, slow it down and introduce some new tunes in the middle, break it up with some hilarious audio clips from the Jerky Boys, and conclude with a banger. PRO TIP: if you gave this CD to a romantic interest, the last song should represent how you really feel.

The summer before I went to college, we drove around downriver Detroit and she fatefully played an album I would never forget:

Bright Eyes: Lifted or the Story is in the Soil Keep Your Ear to the Ground

My little emo heart exploded and all I wanted to do was listen to the saddest songs that put into words all of my feelings of angst and insecurity. This love of sad music occurred when I finally had access to high-speed internet and unlimited time in front of my computer. Top it off with a break up with my high school boyfriend and MAN OH MAN was my dorm room a sad place to be. All of the Bright Eyes. The entire Dashboard Confessional discography. Sprinkles of David Grey. Dabble it with some Pedro the Lion. Give me all of Saves the Day. What do you know about The Get up Kids. Just ALL OF THE ANGST YOU COULD HANDLE!

Fast forward almost 15 years and my music library has definitely broadened but one thing still remains: I revel in songs that evoke powerful emotions within me. Whereas most people will tell you that scent is their greatest tie to memory, I feel that way about music. I have this weird ability to recall things if there was a song involved. Whether it’s a great scene from a movie or the soundtrack to a breakup, hearing these songs again will bring me right back.

So, why give that up for a month? Isn’t music cathartic? What is the harm in allowing myself to feel these things? I have a few theories and driving factors that caused me to cut it out, but I’ll only share this: As much as music was connecting me to the past, it was keeping me from engaging with the present. I plug in headphones pretty much wherever I go and while I lose myself in the lyrics, I am letting the world completely pass me by. And since the point of this year was to become more mindful, this felt like a sacrifice I had to try to give up, if only momentarily.

“Sentimental music has this great way of taking you back somewhere at the same time that it takes you forward, so you feel nostalgic and hopeful all at the same time.”

The Results: Even though I will NEVER admit it to the person who called me a “f*cking idiot”, this was hands down the worst thing I have given up all year. All of my theories were disproved. No, I did not actually get more work done. Turns out, zoning out to music makes creating spreadsheets a lot more tolerable! Sure, it was great to actually hear my inner office banter but that definitely made me more distracted and not more focused, as was the hope.

Working out really sucked too! Lots of grunting going on at the gym that I used to not hear on account of the noise-canceling headphones. (Guys, settle down with the grunting. No shame in going down a few pounds if it’s going to give you a hernia to lift it).

Finally, I didn’t actually just let myself ride to work in silence or unwind without audio assistance. Instead, I went all in on Podcasts. And since I should apparently take all of my artistic advice from Lindsey, I finally started listening to My Favorite Murder, which, if a perfect Friday night is sitting on the couch with a glass of wine and a 2-hour episode of Dateline, then you need to listen to this amazing podcast. I can’t believe I held off so long. I am full blown Murderino status now. It consumed all of my time and I feel like I gained 2 imaginary friends.

“So what did you learn?”

“One good thing about Music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.”

Um, FALSE, Bob. I feel SO much pain sometimes.

My main goal was to not use music as the vehicle to wallow. There are songs that I hear that take me back to once happy moments that are now so sad to me. I wanted to give myself a break from stumbling across those memories and focus on the present. As it turns out, catharsis is necessary for moving on. Sometimes, you need to beat the absolute shit out of nostalgia in order to desensitize it from the raw emotions it brings. Denying myself the cruel pleasure of indulging in those moments didn’t help me move on from the memories I didn’t want to confront. Kristen Bell once said that her therapist once said: “you can’t walk 10 feet into the forest and expect to get out in 5”. Sometimes, you just have to be IN it. Music helps me stay in the uncomfortable moments and a good lyric makes me see the world from a new perspective. While I’m proud of my discipline, I’m so happy that May is over and that music is back in my life.

So what was the first song you listened to?

While I heard many songs on June 1st, a perfectly timed Instagram post reminded me of a classic. Lindsey posted a screenshot of Annie Lennox’s song “Why”. I listened to it once, played it a second time, and cried through the third. I needed that cry. I needed that song. I need to move on. I’m thankful for the means to do that now.

“This is how I feel
Do you know how I feel?
‘Cause I don’t think you know how I feel
I don’t think you know what I feel
I don’t think you know what I fear”

So let the music play this month because there won’t be much else to do in my downtime. June’s sacrifice? Movies and TV. STAY TUNED!

Sweet Sweet Sweet

So, the thing is this. When I started on this #onelessthing journey, I looked at the entire year and planned out what things I would cut out. I felt like I was being pretty methodical with choosing something that was challenging but also not completely disruptive. Somehow in this planning, I completely missed that I would do two separate food challenges right in a row. If you recall, last month I gave up Grains. Although it wasn’t too difficult to do, I was just so ready for a delicious Blueberry Tart from Fox in the Snow when the month concluded. TURNS OUT, the next item on the list would prohibit me from doing that…

Challenge: No Sugar!

Rules: Ok armchair dieticians, here’s the deal. I understand that there is sugar in everything and that not all glucose is bad. Even vegetables like carrots, sweet potatoes and tomatoes have sugar in it. This is NOT a complete sugar detox. The goal was to cut out added sugars, which meant no candy, desserts, or heavily processed foods. A COMPLETE sugar detox would pretty much be a Whole30 or keto diet and to be perfectly honest, I just don’t have the time or money to commit to that right now. I also wanted to craft a monthly routine that anyone could easily follow, and when you are spending hours a week making broth from scratch, it’s not highly accessible to most people.

Why I cut it out: When I grew up, I had the biggest sweet tooth. My parents were always very healthy growing up and as a result, we had the most boring pantry of snacks. My friend joked that my kitchen was just condiments. Every lunch from grade 3-12 consisted of the same thing: a sandwich, a Capri Sun, and a Nutrigrain bar. I never got to trade my snacks for cooler snacks like Gushers or Hoe-Hoes or Snow-Balls. It seemed like a good idea in terms of raising kids that weren’t totally addicted to sugar but it actually had the adverse effect. My siblings and I would go HARD at the candy store with whatever spare cash we had. Warheads, Sour Patch Kids, Ring Pops, Twix bars, you name it. Any opportunity for candy or sugar was taken advantage of. I have the dental work to prove it.

Looking back at the different stages of health in my life, it’s truly amazing how long I spent not having ANY idea the correlation between sugar and weight gain. Or illness. Or chronic fatigue. Or anxiety. Or depression. Or concentration. For more insight on exactly how damaging sugar can be to your body, I asked my friend, certified nutrition coach, and all around badass Susan Perry to give me an explanation:

“Consistently high blood sugar has a huge ripple effect on our health. Playing the sugar roller coaster game causes systemic inflammation throughout the body and remember all diseases start with inflammation. Cancer, dementia, Parkinsons, diabetes, autoimmunity love to feed off this inflammation.”

The first time I got pregnant, I really started to feel really connected with what I was eating and how it was making me feel. This went into hyperdrive as I started breastfeeding. Not only could I see the impact that food was having on me, but I could see how it impacted my baby as well. I was also feeling like I needed to get in better shape. When he was about 6 months old, my husband and I decided to do the Whole30. The rules around sugar are very strict. You basically have to prepare all of your meals from scratch because you can have NO added sugar. Beyond that, you can’t even have any sugar substitutes that get added to foods like processed citric acid, dextrose, fructose, corn syrup, maple, agave, and even Stevia. Even vegetables with sugar like Sweet Potatoes were only allowed in small portions. Only one handful of fruit a day and it was really just supposed to be blue or blackberries. Going about this diet while working full-time and with a newborn was a HUGE challenge and it required a ton of meal prep and money for the expensive stuff. In that month alone, I lost 14lbs and kept about 9 off for a long time.

I couldn’t believe how good I felt without all of that crap in my system. But, old habits die hard, and so do old diets. I went from taking coffee black (LIKE MY SOUL) to adding stevia to going straight back to sugar. Where my freezer was once free of ice cream, Tolenti’s soon became plentiful. As our children started requiring more and more snacks, our standards started slipping from healthy and organic to quick and easy.

For the past 2 years, I’ve been working out more than ever AND IT SHOWS (JK but not really). I pack most of my lunches and try to make our dinners from scratch. But as I started getting more stressed and anxious, late night snacks became a huge comfort for me. I’d crush it all day and then as soon as the kids were asleep and I could finally relax, I’d go straight for the dark chocolate. Or ice cream. Or cookies. Or anything that had sugar. I’d wake up the morning feeling so sluggish and grossed out. I’d try to make it up by working out harder but it wasn’t addressing that I was actually addicted to sugar. So when it came time to make this list, I knew I had to cut it out again.

“Wait, what did you eat then”: Let me re-iterate that this was not a 100% sugar detox. I made about 80% of my meals from scratch and mostly with fresh foods, but I am only human. After not having any grains for a month, I really craved toast. I would try to stick to sprouted bread like Ezekiel’s or brands that didn’t add sugar (which is hard to find). I also made a delicious beef Ragu sauce from scratch that didn’t have any sugar but ate that with some pasta which definitely had sugar in it. Though I tried to not get too crazy with the condiments, I couldn’t help but have ketchup with my fries and lets face it; ketchup is just tomato sugar water.

I already don’t drink soda other than La Croix so that wasn’t hard but I didn’t have any juice either. “But fruit is good for you!” you say, to which Susan will reply:

“PET scans can be used to explore how cancer has spread and you know what radioactive drug they use to find the tumors…….medical grade glucose because cancer cells have a party when there’s sugar around, its cancer cells food of choice. Just think of that before you down that 8 oz glass of freshly squeezed orange juice which contains roughly 20 g of sugar, or 5 teaspoons”

So, you can drink juice, but only if you want to get cancer and die. In all seriousness, this is a great point. You wouldn’t eat 10 oranges in a row. Why consume them in liquid form?

Other than that, I went back to drinking black coffee, making most of my own sauces and marinades, and doing my best to stay away from processed foods.

The Results: Let me tell you: if you are preparing to cut out sugar or even do a full detox, I would suggest starting on a Saturday when you don’t have anything to do. You will definitely have withdrawal symptoms. I felt hungover on day 1. My head was pounding, I was completely lethargic and even felt nauseated. I could have gone to bed at 8PM that night. It probably took me a solid 2 days to feel normal again. On top of that, this challenge correlated with day one of my shameful lady times so the cravings for chocolate were so real. But, I pushed through and by day 3, I was feeling really good.

For a challenge like this, you have to be prepared. Even though I tried to stay away from snacking, I made sure that I had almonds/mixed nuts at my desk if I was feeling hungry between meals. Here’s the interesting thing: the longer I went without sugar, the fewer my food cravings were. This is because the meals I was eating were actually nutritious, my body was actually feeling satiated. As I mentioned before, this meant cutting out a lot of grains. Why? TAKE IT AWAY, SUSAN!

“If your blood sugar goes up, and it will if you eat carbs, insulin comes on the scene to pull the sugar out. This excess sugar travels to your liver and comes out as a triglyceride on your cholesterol report. Once insulin is being called upon, you are storing and not burning fat. Insulin is a fat storing hormone, and it is really difficult to lose weight when insulin is telling your body store, store, store!”

While it wasn’t my intent, I DID lose weight! About 7lbs in fact. I didn’t even change my workout routine. Actually, my schedule got really hectic and I wasn’t even able to work out as much as I normally do. So, don’t ever forget that a good body is made in the kitchen, people!

I’d love to tell you that I held out the entire month but there were definitely some slip-ups. While I didn’t have any sugar outright, I could have been more mindful. Our company went out to celebrate an award and I had a few Old Fashions, entirely forgetting that they add sugar to it. I felt AWFUL the next day. I also got a little too lenient with the grains. I started out strong with multi-grain sprouted bread but by the end of the month, English Muffins were slipping in on the regular. Finally, I concluded the week by giving into the tin of popcorn in our breakroom and having some caramel covered popcorn. I regretted it so quickly as all of my withdrawal symptoms return in full form. Now that the poison was out of my body, any time I had it, my body treated it as such.

“So what did you learn?”: All things in moderation. By the end of March, my candy consumption was out of control. I’m definitely an emotional eater and I was clearly getting endorphins from the sugar rush but feeling just awful hours later. Being off sugar, I definitely felt less stress, slept a lot better, and had fewer bouts of anxiety/feelings of depression. In terms of fitness, I definitely could tell that not only was I losing weight but specifically burning fat. After two babies and a decade of beer drinking behind me, my belly has always been my biggest insecurity. This month, I finally felt like I was completely comfortable in my skin and it’s a huge motivator to keep my sugar consumption to a minimum. The next step is weening my kids off of it so they will stop being baby terrorists that drive mommy to drink.

Ok, now that I have done 3 different food and drink challenges, it’s time to mix it up. But I won’t be re-mixing it up because, in May, I will be abstaining from… MUSIC!

Stay tuned…