Haven't been to Tokoni in a while...
My world turned completely upside down in August of 2009. My precious, precious father passed away and I have been totally lost since then.
He hadn't been feeling well for some time. I kept taking him to the doctor, the emergency room, etc. He kept getting released with a "peptic ulcer". Finally one doctor decided to do a scan, Dad went in for the results and was handed a business card and referred to an oncologist.
I went with Dad to the oncologist on August 10th, we were shown the scan and given the diagnosis. His lungs, liver and stomach were full of cancer. He was given 3 months. He passed away 16 days later.
I was blessed, I suppose, because I got to spend those 16 days by his side. He was only coherent the first 8 days, after that he couldn't talk, eat, drink. I called the ambulance on the 4th day of him not eating/drinking and he spent the last days in the hospital under the care of a palliative doctor.
I was so close to my father, he was my best friend. He always, since my first days of recollection, about the age of two, made me feel like a princess. He was so affectionate and kind, thoughtful and wise, generous and tender. He was always there for me. For 47 years. I am so lost without him.
Truth is, I have found this world in this past six months to be a very cruel, mean, awful place. I am not all too interested in learning how to live in it without him. I cannot believe Daddy made this such a beautiful world to be in.
He made sure there was laughter, sunshine, love, kindness, tenderness, memories. He even made going for an ice cream cone something special (something we did all the time, I never outgrew going for ice cream with Daddy!)
When I look back at one of our doctor visits, and not knowing then but knowing now, he had me stop at a little tavern afterwards, and he split a cheeseburger and had a beer with me. He was sick as hell, and little did we know he only had less than 3 weeks to live, and he was forcing down a loaded cheeseburger and having a beer with his little girl.
I cry every frickin' day. I know I haven't progressed one single step yet. I have split into two people. The face I have to show everyone around me and the person I am when I am alone.
How long will this pain last? I am very active, I am very involved in outside activities,
First week back to work after 4 years is done. Why is it we don’t cherish what we have until it’s gone? This recession finally hit our home this year and I am forced to go back to work. The real estate market did us in just in the past 3 months. We were used to having at least 5 bank-owned listings each month and now we’re lucky to see 1 every couple of months. Last year at this time it was more like 20 a month.
It was proving to be a wonderful way of living until President Obama decided to place a national moratorium on all the foreclosures forcing banks to go the way of short sales. What a lovely band-aid placed on a decapitated head, Obama. It’s not going to work long-term. It has only forced banks to get paid by FDIC insured monies. I’ll skip over the politics and stay on the path of the realist that I am.
I started this week at what is looking to be a very promising opportunity and while I am excited about it, I am also missing my previous position as my household’s domestic engineer! No, I have never referred to myself as that when I was a stay at home Mom but now that I can no longer claim that title I find it so true to it’s intended meaning.
When I’d get home from work this week I felt like such an outsider. The girls were on Spring Break this week and Frank is still struggling to work from home so he had all 3 kids in the house. He did manage to make it work and did it pretty well too. He wasn’t able to get much work done but he took care of the kids better than I thought he would. Granted, the dishes never got done, the laundry is calling my name (as I write this) and the baby got sick because a sippy cup of milk got left out but other than that the house held up without me. He also made dinner 4 of the 5 nights! It was all grilled but at least I didn’t have to do it! I renamed Frank Mr. Mom this week and the kids have adopted it too.
Anyways, it really hurts to start a new chapter of life especially when you’re forced to do it. The kids want me back home but I think that was just based off their boredom from being out of school. The baby ignored me when I got home from work. If he needed something he went straight to Frank even though I was right there! That hurt so bad.
I am very grateful to have a job right now in this terrible job market and I just found out this week that this position will become a telecommuting position by year end! So, in knowing this awful situation is just temporary I started focusing on trying to work out this week to combat my disappointments of not being needed! Only problem: I couldn’t figure out when to work out! Monday I got home from work and we immediately ate dinner. Then Frank left to go work out and I had to get the kids ready for bed so I could work out. By the time they were in bed I was completely exhausted and just wanted to curl up on the couch with a glass of wine! But I couldn’t - those were my old ways before P90X! I decided to not have the glass of wine but I also decided not to work out because it was so late. My plan was to wake up early and do it before work but then I would cut my hours of sleep to only 5! That doesn’t work for me so needless to say, this week I only worked out 4 times! It was thankfully a recovery week of Phase 2 so next week I really need to get it together and make no excuses.
But this begs the question: when is the best time to work out? There is a fitness center at my work which is fantastic for the guys, but for me… not so much. I can’t work out for 45 min, shower and get ready and be back to work all within an hour! Not going to happen. I also know now that I cannot work out at night so my only option is in the morning. But it’s a struggle just getting out of bed in the morning. How in the world will I get the energy to want to go meet Tony downstairs for chest and back or worse when it’s plyo Tuesday?! I have no idea!
I’ll update next week and post results.
Read more at www.amothersmemoir.com
Allie. Allie has red hair. As read as a rose. Her eyes are purple like a violate. Her hair is cut shoulder length. She goes up to my waist in height. She's not as skinny as a stick but pretty close.
Rocco. well who is he? How did I meet him? This is it, Rocco is a 13 year old boy from Egypt. I met him when I was visiting Egypt and saw him. He was a scavenger. My family took Rocco in. He has black hair that's kinda shiny. It's about two inches above his shoulders. He has tan skin, and brown eyes. Rocco is as tall as Allie. He is all skin and bones. No matter how mutch we try he cant gain weight.
Jacob. He was tall with long shoulder length hair. Blonde shoulder length hair. But weardly enough he has black eyes. Jacob was tall but also as slim as a twig.
Well me, my name is Bell. I have brown hair. Dark brown hair. My hair is about to the middle of my back. My eyes are green. I am as tall as Jacob when I where high heels. I too am as skinny as a twig.
I wake up at exactly six o clock and put on my snow white ballet slippers. My pale blue nightgown swishes around my knees, but my body is silent otherwise. I don't smile. I grow tired of pretending sometimes.
My feet don't make a sound as I walk across the kitchen, towards the door that doesn't make a sound. Mother has ears like a hawk, and if she caught me awake before eight, this entire thing would be ruined.
The streetlamps on Butternut Avenue shine down on my pale figure, I see in the reflection of the puddles. Spring has only just arrived, but rain comes here often. I walk until I reach the edge of the forest behind our beautiful neighborhood. I walk right in. You lose the fear when you come in here as often as I do. Besides, she wants me alive. And she controls all of the demonic creatures in here that have any chance of killing me.
When I reach the clearing, I stop right where the line is drawn. I stand in the white roses. The perfectly straight line separates them from the red roses, where she is already waiting for me.
"You're late."
"I'm sorry. I-"
"You do realize, that when you are late for an appointment with anyone else, you're perfect attendance is ruined, but when you are late for an appointment with someone like me, they normally kill you?"
I look up from the flowers and look her in the eyes. So full of fire and hatred.
"Yes," I whisper.
"But I wont. I'm not finished with you. In fact, we are only just starting in three days."
My eyes widen.
"You said three weeks! I cant think of something in time, I-"
"You can... and you will. Unless you want to leave everyone without a proper goodbye?"
I shake my head vigorously.
"Okay then. We have three days until the change. I will have my old life back within a month. And remember.... If you don't do what you're job as me is, you fade. And there's no bouncing back."
She smiled coldly, and disappeared.
I let out a shaky breath and collapsed on the ground, dry sobs escaping out of me.
I pull myself together. Three days... That's enough time.
But how am I going to tell everybody?
To warn them?
I am suddenly pulled up into a standing position.And feel tugging. I am pulled over into the red roses, my body jerking and having spasms of pain. I'm bleeding all over my legs. These roses have thorns.
Wait... my body...
I look down.
This is not my body.
I have no body.
I am transparent.
And I close my eyes as the pain spreads through my entire body.
More... and more.... and more...
And when I wake up, I am transparent still. But I feel as if I am whole. I look across the flowers, and see myself. Wait. Myself? "No..." I whisper.
"Alice?" Called Veronica, who was sitting in the white flowers now.
Where she belonged.
"I lied!" She yelled, laughing.
She stood up, turned, and walked away.
As I make my entrance everyone begins to applaud,
My hair in a bun, my feet shoved in heels,
Thinking that this couldn't be right for me.
I curtsy and I strut,
My stride gaining more strength.
I march myself up face to face with my fears.
I say that, "My life is changed,
For the better or the worse.
It matters not to you which it is."
So I turn on my high-heeled shoes, and I walk back down the carpeted lane.
Those that I knew and loved were crying.
I say to myself, "From this there isn't much I'll gain,
But at least I know that I wouldn't have,
Crashed and Burned,
I know that I have learned to move on my own opinion."
I keep walking until I reach the very end.
I turn around and I smile.
Everyone looks up at me,
A few with smirks,
Others with frowns,
But as I stare into your eyes,
I see a challenge.
You knew I would fail.
This task wasn't mine.
I say, "Guess what?
I'm done."
You open your eyes a little wider,
And I stop smiling.
I snicker.
"Good Luck." I whisper.
I see your eyes light up with rage as I finish my strut...
Off the stage.
I found this incredible photo-slide-show about a rescued bird. You have to see it to believe it. A true testament to the miracle of life and the human spirit.
((The embedded video won't work here ?? ))) Please go here to see it:
http://www.alamocitytimes.com/2009/11/22/tweety-a-story-of-survival
The photo story is about a baby bird this family found and that they nursed back to health after two weeks of feeding and caring for the bird every 20 minutes.
> Support Hyperlocal Community Journalism, VISIT:
for more.
> Follow Patricio at http://twitter.com/espiblog
While at SXSW 2010 in search of the latest tools, gadgets and tech that are being used or can be apply to Journalism efforts I ran into the coolest thing, and you don't have to pay for to see it. A FREE Cell Phone Solar Charging Station outside SXSW, on Trinity between 4th - 5th outside Austin Fire-Station No.1.
Check it out! At these bright yellow pumps anyone can stop by and connect a cell, laptop, iPhone whatever you need to charge, and it's all free. And it's Eco friendly too, the pumps are powered by solar panels.
BTW... I mentioned you don't have to pay to see it because of the outrageously expensive registration fees at SXSW, credentials this year go any where from $300 to $900 + dollars!! Certainly no something everyone can afford... Shame on SXSW for making this event where Social Media, Openness is king so inaccessibly expensive for those who actually make social media possible "The People!" You would think they already make plenty with so many sponsors, and could make more accessible registrations for those of us actually using this technology in the public interest.
> Credit to http://www.SolDesignLab.com who makes this Solar Charging Station, the coolest SXSW gadget I've ever seen.
> Support Hyperlocal Community Journalism, VISIT: http://AlamoCityTimes.com for more.
> Follow Patricio at http://twitter.com/espiblog
It was lunchtime at the cheese plant. I remember it well and that it was Saturday. Only on Saturdays would the Amish bring their tall, silver milk pails loaded for delivery on the backs of their horse-drawn work wagons. These wagons would be loaded up with shiny chrome rows of two or three, three or four to a row. On any other day of the week the milk deliveries would arrive solely in tanker trucks.
A friend and I were having our lunchtime bologna sandwiches in my first car, a faded and dented 1973 Chevy Impala four door. The Blue Bomb my friends and I called it. With its' smiling cherry air-freshener hanging from the rear view mirror, the Bomb was always ready for a ride and and a memory. I'd bussed a lot of tables and mowed acres of grass to get her and thanks to her I was able to venture out and find a REAL job at the cheese plant. She cost a mere one hundred bucks and I knew as a counted my wrinkled bills out to the seller that a hundred bucks was a fine price to pay for freedom. The stories I could tell you about her, the adventures she escorted us through!
With a bologna sandwich in one hand I reached into the backseat with the other to retrieve a treasure some friends and I acquired on one of our adventures. It was a small, flat cylinder made up of cardboard and bailing twine and resembled a very small snare drum. It was an aerial firework, the type that light up the sky on the Fourth of July and I was ever-so-curious to find out what contents this little bundle of adventure held. Just HAD to see the inside of this thing.
When I snipped the bailing twine with my pocket knife, the top came off to reveal five orange balls nestled atop of a handful of what appeared to be charcoal chunks. The chunks I decided, were probably flash-powder used as an igniter. The near tennis-ball sized objects I assumed, would be the actual 'show'. I scooped the balls out of their nest of flash-powder and placed them on the plastic console I'd purchased for the hump of the Bomb. Remember those? Detroit didn't give us cup-holders back then. We had to go to the local department store to buy them. This one had slots for which I sometimes placed my eight-tracks. And teeth. Rows of teeth on its' underside which bit into the carpet, keeping it from sliding around when I made turns or accelerated too suddenly. I opened the door of the car so that I could dump the charcoal chunks from their container neatly on the ground. I separated one of the chunks from the pile and placed it maybe ten inches aside.
What happened next reminded me of a cartoon. I leaned out of the car and struck my lighter to the lone chunk and it flashed into brilliant pink-white flame and smoke instantly. Uh oh! I bolted upright and reached for the handle of the door as the pile was ignited by the glowing chunk. Thick white smoke enveloped me and I was nearly blinded by the brilliance of the pink-white flash. As I pulled the door closed I thought of Wyle E. Coyote and how he always managed to blow himself up in another ill-fated attempt to capture the Roadrunner. I was prompted, you see, to think this thought as a lone spark jumped from the flaming pile outside my door and arced cartoon-like over my lap to land atop the five orange balls neatly placed on my shiny new cup and eight-track holding console. FLASH! And the balls were ignited, not in the sky this time but in my four-wheeled adventure mobile. My friend and I dove from the car commando style and landed on the hard gravel of the cheese plant parking lot.
When we stood up we saw the fireworks show. Red, green, yellow and white bursts of color shot through the car and escaped from the open doors. The smoke was thick and white and just pouring from the car. What in hell did I do! My car! My ticket to freedom and adventure was aglow with Fourth of July glory! Pop! Crack! Whiz! What in the hell have I done? What am I gonna do? And the decision was made for me.
Two Amish-men ambled towards my car with one of their milk pails. It was full, judging the way they struggled with its' weight. I dazedly wondered what in hell were they intending to with THAT. And with a heave and a ho they halted the show with about twenty gallons of milk; probably unpasteurized. The show was over folks. Lets get back to work. And by the way, was that milk you threw in my car? MILK? Somehow, and I'm still not sure why, the thought of milk poured into my car weighed more heavily on my mind than the fact that it just held a flaming fireworks show.
The bench seat was now mostly just springs and ashes. The steering wheel melted almost completely away to reveal it's inner wire. The dash was almost gone and some of the windshield had melted and pooled in the corner of what was once a gleaming dashboard. The stereo was toasted. Our unfinished lunches were over-cooked. Somehow, and again I think of cartoons and the high presence of unlikely occurrences, the only thing in the front seat area of the car to remain untouched was the bag of green that we had left laying on the open glove-box door. Go figure.
I drove the Blue Bomb for about two weeks more. In deafening quiet I steered it towards work every day,using the skeletal steering wheel whilesitting on a folded quilt as a I peered through the smoke-stained windshield. The stench of sour milk and fireworks was nearly unbearable. No one pitched in for gas and adventures in the Bomb since the show.
The local junk-yard told me they would give me seventy-five bucks if I could drive her in. And boy did I. I practiced my demolition-derby driving skills while driving the entire winding-country-road to get there. When I pulled up to the junk-yard the outside of the Bomb matched the inside, battle scarred and weary. The owner of the junk-yard stood on the stoop of the office, hands on her hips, scowling at me as I pulled up. Wanted to know if she was supposed to pay seventy-five bucks for THIS. She was a woman of her word. I'd driven her in as agreed and she payed me. Can't help wondering if she was paying me not for the car but for the entertainment.
Several years later, after the Navy and another car or two, I stopped at the junkyard's road-side sweet-corn stand that they set up every late summer. As I was making my purchase I saw a familiar friend roll up. It was the Blue Bomb. Her entire top had been cut off to make it easy to throw the picked corn in. They had been using her as a corn buggy. There she was, still chugging along, still with that skeletal steering wheel. And did I smell sour milk? Or was it the sweet smell of those smiling cherries?
I always think of that car when I see a fireworks show. She was a beauty once. She held the keys to my independence and brought my friends and I through so many fine adventures. She gave us one hell of a show that fine Saturday but seeing my old friend in that field years later was the grand finale. Cherries and corn and memories.
Are you after a better collection of wholesale jeans? You can try going over Wholesale Apparel Direct's wider selection of jeans, which I did and found some of the most stylish jeans.
I wrote about this guy on my first story here in Tokoni. I've never been so attracted (to a guy ) and so heartbroken before but then again I'm merely 16.
It all started last year around February, we made it "official" March 3rd. I was crazy about him! he was so upbeat, optimistic such a care free person unlike me. I suffer from both depression and anxiety, both diagnosed but untreated because my parents don't believe in depression or anxiety. He was like an outlet, I grew to like me a lot because of the way he carried himself. I constantly think about him, everyday, all the time and when I'm not someone always brings him up. 3 days ago we got into a fight ( we were trying to rekindle our relationship) only to find out he was talking to someone else. I've been blocked out of his life, treated horribly and I still think and dream about him. Not something I'm proud of but I can't really help it. I'm still attracted to that care free boy I once dated ( he's not like this anymore because he's been through a lot of hardships and he decided to toughen up. I hate it.) and sometimes I still wish he would go back to his old self and come back to me.
RELISHING MY HOME
Caress my lips with rose pedals of love
Anoint my bosoms with the fragrance of olive oil
Braid a crown of wild flowers through my hair
As I sit and watch the little white dove
Gazing so it seems
My thoughts are reflecting things to come
Pleasures are abound and plentiful
It is my heart that keeps these treasures
I have watched the butterfly spawn in my garden
Escaping from any flicker of harm
A breeze wisps away the sweat of my brow
Even a trickle of water quenches my thirst
The harp fills my head from a music box
Dancing gracefully with the song birds
Cheerfully understanding this is my home
Welcoming wisdom at my doorstep
Radiant are my lampposts at night
Enlightening my prayers
Cultured through teachings of attendance
Memories are precious stones - placed in a sacred place
The haggles of this life are intangible
Worry’s are like relished piccalilli’s
Pleasing the soul with pleasant dreams
My senses are awakened even in the dark
@ Written By Debra De Wyer
06/02/2008
Pretend it's okay,
But inside you want to run away
And hide until they're gone.
They're so convinced it'll last forever, and then it doesn't.
He turns to me for comfort.
And love happens,
Even though I never wanted it to.
It takes me away from everybody,
Eats me until I am only bone.
My only escape is my mind, where it fills me with the memories of what has happened before,
And what will never go away.
I find myself awaiting the end.
And othertimes all I see is the beginning and happiness.
But when I continue to click "Older Posts" I find myself unable to stop,
And I click
and read
and click
and read
until I cant take it anymore.
I curl up in the ball I have been in so many times before.
But I do not cry.
Only do the tears come when I am fully alone.
Which emphasizes the fact that I am alone.
And no one will come to put an arm around me.
I can't believe I haven't written anything since last year. I guess that's just proof of how busy life can get. Boy, has my life been busy.
So I'm writing this in orange because I've just been accepted to Syracuse University's S.I. Newhouse School of Communications. I got home from work, took a shower and casually decided to check my email.
To my surprise, I had two emails from Syracuse. The first, a letter of acceptance. As if that wasn't enough, the next was a letter informing me of the scholarship and financial aid they are going to grant me.
I thought that finding out about college acceptances would be more fun than this. Maybe it's just because I got my hopes up or maybe it's because it's two in the morning, but I thought it would be more fun than this.
Instead of being fun, it just seems like a huge, thundering cloud is drooping over my head. The pressure is on. I have until May 1 to make my decision, and I haven't even heard back from all of the schools I applied to yet.
There's so many factors that have to be considered when deciding where to spend the next four years of your life. And then there's the largest factor of them all, well, the second largest behind money: the boyfriend. I know it shouldn't be a factor, but no matter how persistently I tell my mind to make a decision separate from him, I can't. My heart trumps it.
We have both been accepted to great schools already, but the thought of spending four years apart is scary. When the time comes to talk of many things (of shoes and ships and sealing wax), I know I will make the right decision.
At least I hope so. Until then, I'll just twiddle my thumbs and wait.
"Do it..." I coax softly into his ear. "It can't hurt..." He is afraid, unsure of wether to pop the pills into his mouth or not. The white walls around him seem to emphasize how small the room is, taunting him, letting him know that there is no escape. His friends are outside of the door, waiting to hear the bottle smack down on the table, announcing his completion of the task at hand. If I was not transparent at the moment, I would do it myself, by transforming myself into my human form.
You know, the form I had before... everything. I don't know this boy's name; only what I must do. I am now aware that I am unable to touch things, and I am losing my ability to smell and taste very slowly.I feel myself fading. I have not done this for far too long. The more lives I ruin, the stronger I become. If this ends well, I will be whole again in no time. "Come on..." I whisper into his ear.
I have switched to the seductive tone. I convince him that everyone will love him even though he does it, and then watch his depression when he turns out alone, just as I. I will stay with him as the cutting begins, the drinking, the smoking, the more drugs, the better. I will act as if I adore him long enough to gain his trust fully. Then, I will do it. I will show him. I will show him the light, everything he is missing in his life. I will show him where he will be if he stays with me. Hell.
Then, he makes his choice. Wether he wants to go back to Earth and start over with a life of God and holyness, or stay with me here in Hell. This is my duty. To torture myself in a way that I cannot think of words to describe as. I give them something I never got. Something I never will get. To be a follower of God, not Satan. To be Christian. To live and love and laugh with my friends.
And it's all. Her. Fault.
I snap out of my thinking as he pops every single pill into his mouth.
Success.
Veronica
Society has turned against her. Sha was accused of something she did not do, something unacceptable in our world of perfect flawlessness. We have turned her into a monster of the worst kind: a demon. A worshipper of Satan. Not the horns, the tail, or the red triton. She is beautiful. Her dark red hair curls around her waist, her peircing green eyes see through your soul, brigning out your worst fears. She is the friend of the druggies, the inspiration of the drunks, the murderers. She is a shadow, now. Slowly losing her ability to attract, to be able to be seen. She feeds on the sould of the living, leaving the people empty shells, more alone than ever. Just like her. She feels herself fading, but it just as dangerous as ever.
And she has found a body.
Alice Lee.
The perfect daughter. Most popular, loved by everyone, known as the girl who uncovered Veronica Black. Honor Student and President of Student Council. Blue eyes with above perfect vision. Straight teeth as white as her skin, pale. Her bloodred lips, kissed by so many others, always have a smile. Her white blond hair has always been in a perfect bob. She is innocent.
But Alice is not who she seems. She has a secret. A dark secret. A secret that, if known, could have changed everything. And Veronica knows. Veronica wants revenge. But revenge is hard to find in a place like this. By putting herself into Alice's body, she has been introduced to Alice's own personal Wonderland. She plunges into the darker and lighter places of her thoughts, while meeting the rabbits, the catterpillars, and herself.
Yes. Alice has created a Veronica. And her worst fears have come true. Veronica has found her.
Veronica is the Red Queen.
Alice is the White Queen.
Let the battle of good and evil... begin.
I am writing a book.
I think you will enjoy it.
It is not my first attempt at writing one.
But I believe it is one of my best.
So, uh..... I'm at chapter one.
They are kind of short chapters, but there will be many.
I shall post the summary, the preface, and chapter one today or tomorrow, as I have hand written them and need to type them up.
I pray that you do not stop reading this early into it, as yes, it is about drugs and drinking and demons.
But I feel that you will understand the holyness and finding God part of it.
I have also thrown in some Wonderland...
no duh.
I'm obsessed.
So, summary, and possibly a preface. i may post it later in the book...
because i wrote one but it gives a lot away.
This book has a lot in it.
I honestly doubt you will ever be bored....
Maybe annoyed, mad, terrified, sad, happy.....
Merheh. :)
So, uh.... look out.
Title:
Fire
and
Ice
There was a time when I firstly enter education world where I learnt many things from my employer, Jo. She was a tough teacher sometimes even sound so heartless, but long after I realise she was doing it for a reason.
I used to supervise the kids at their lunch time and after that prepare for nap time. Toilet, milk, and read book. One day I got report from a parent that her baby said that she does not want Ms Jo to be angry with her. So the day before this girl, Abby, she had hard time to sleep that I have no more idea to make her sleep then I said. “You have sleep Abby, or Ms. Jo will be angry.” Maybe I said that more for myself because Jo would say firmly that I must make them sleep. Jo said that I am the boss, so I should make them do what I said. But how does to make them see that I am the boss?
The hardest thing was at the toilet training. It was time for toilet for the kids and they are in the middle of a play. I tried to ask Abby to go for pee but she refused, she said she was not felt like to pee yet. But later I found her panty was wet. I was amazed how easy for Jo to ask Abby to go to toilet. And the next day I practise that new strategy. “Why don’t we race to the toilet and see how much time you will spend for pee. Ready? One, two, three...!” Wow, she would run to the toilet enthusiastically.
One funny thing but also important thing happened along with my learning to be an educator. That day I took Abby and Toto for pee in the afternoon. She saw Toto’s penis and asked. “What is that little thing in his bottom?” I was stunned, did not know how to answer for a 2 years old girl understanding. “Honey, that little thing is how we know someone a boy or a girl. A boy has that little thing in his bottom, but we girls don’t have that little thing.” She looked thinking, analysing what I just told her. Then I checked her understanding, “Do you think your cousin Sarah has that little thing in her bottom?” She shook her head in her cute way, “Nnoooo.” I tried to find someone closer with her to identify, “And what about your daddy, does her has that little thing?” I should’ve find someone else to be identified, afraid if later she checked that with her father and he might found it not acceptable, and luckily it was alright. “Yes....” She replied. Good, she understood then.
It was also remarkable how a kid can be your shadow for a period of time. That would make you have emotional attached with him. When Kaka enrolled for a childcare, he was crying all the time. He was only 2 and luckily his mother trusted us to take care of his son. Kaka would cry and his nose was running. I should bring tissue and plastic bag in my pocket for him. He would follow me wherever I went and I tried to make him feel safe with me that made him feels comfortable in the school.
While other brave girl, Gina, she was doing very good at the first day. She really enjoyed playing in new environment. This situation can be tricky... wait for the second day. She cried and called out her mother. I carried her and tried to comfort her, asked her to join a game, anything to distract her attention. But she didn’t want to do anything. She is a stubborn girl, I found out afterwards. I asked Jo if we better call for her mother and make someone to accompany her. Jo said no, she would be okay, said Jo. What a heartless person, I thought. Slowly I observed that Gina could cope with new environment and became a cheerful girl.
That was my greatest time with Abigail Leigh Owen, Regina Lim, and Azka Fatah Muhammad. My childcare kids in 2005. I missed them and wish I could meet them one day.
Does getting healthy and fit seem like a jigsaw puzzle that has you stumped? Are you wanting to do something but don’t know where to start? If you’re still reading this then you know you want to do something and that’s the very first step! The second step is deciding if you have the commitment it will take to see it through.
As you might know already, I started P90X in October of last year and I’ll be honest, I didn’t really put the focus on it from the beginning. My plan at the time was just to incorporate it into what I was doing already. I was running, attending spin classes and doing a few push-ups, lunges and crunches right after cardio. That alone made me lose 10 pounds of my goal. I weighed about 145 after a year of breastfeeding (A Secret To Weight Loss That Men Don’t Possess) and I wanted to get back to where I was before I had kids which was 125. I’m only 5′5 but I thought if I got down to 120 I’d have a 5 pound cushion to play with. So my exercise routine got me down to 135 but I couldn’t seem to break that mark and it started to really annoy me.
So then, I realized I had to start making some real changes. I started keeping a log of what I ate every day to give me an idea of where I could change things. I also got 2 metabolic tests done at my gym that determined my resting metabolic rate and my metabolic rate after I had been running for 15 minutes to figure out where I burned fat most efficiently. That right there was the missing piece of the puzzle that I needed to start making seeing changes. I found out that all those days at the gym without a heart rate monitor really held me back from attaining my goal. I wasn’t ever getting into my fat burning zone, not to mention, prior to these tests I had no idea what my fat burning zone was. At the time (September 09) the zone I needed to be in the majority of my workout was 160-168 beats per minute. Wow, what a difference that has made. It turns out, I was hardly working my body to the degree I need to in order to see results. I was also doing very light resistance work and only about 15 minutes of it. Not good enough to see the changes I wanted. The other key piece of these tests gives you your caloric intake for the day on days you work out and the days you don’t. On days I don’t work out my caloric intake is 1100 calories. On the days I do work out it’s about 1400-1500 calories depending on the workout. This astounded me because I was eating 1800 calories. I thought that was where my intake should be, being a female. Wow, was I way off?! Everyone is different.
Since I didn’t take P90X seriously at first I have no formal before and
after pictures. But here’s a picture of me in Hawaii last July. I’m not very proud of this but hey, you have to start somewhere, right?
And here’s picture of me taken a week ago….
I also made huge changes in my diet. I cut down my coffee from 3 or more cups to just 1 and started using sugar free liquid creamer (not powder) and 1 tiny teaspoon of Splenda (but I hear Stevia is better for you). The other significant change I made was cutting out alcohol. I now only drink on a Friday or Saturday night and only if we’re going out to dinner or hanging with friends, and even then I try to only have one drink. Below is a sample menu of what I eat every day. If you can handle this, then start doing it! The hardest part is making yourself eat every 2 hours. You will see the results and I’ll be here to help coach you along the way!
My Sample Menu
Breakfast (eat breakfast within an hour of waking up)
- cup of coffee (with my sugar free hazelnut CoffeeMate creamer)
- bowl of oatmeal w/ 1 tsp of Splenda (Quaker Oats not the processed sugary oatmeal)
- 1/2 of a banana (I give the other half to my 2 year old)
Snack (2 hours later)
- 1 small apple with 2 TBL of organic peanut butter (I share this also with my 2 year old)
Lunch (2 hours after snack)
- a sandwich with Light whole grain bread, 2-3 fresh slices of low sodium turkey from the deli and a thin slice of pepperjack cheese,
I use light mayonnaise on 1 piece of bread and regular on the other
- a side salad (romaine lettuce, grape tomatoes and 1 TBL of light champagne dressing (Girard’s brand)
Recovery Drink (after I work out)
- protein shake with glutamine (P90X recovery drink or Hi-Health’s brand). the Hi-Health protein shake I use is 120 calories, 24 g protein, 1 g fat and 4 carbs. I also will have another shake right before bed at night if I feel so hungry that I might not be able to sleep. This is the best thing to eat if you HAVE to eat before bed.
Snack (at least an hour after snack)
- a 6oz yogurt (Light and Fit -strawberry or strawberry cheesecake) or I’ll opt for a granola bar (Nature Made Oats and Honey)
- a baby-size handful of raisins (I won’t do this if I choose to have the granola bar)
Dinner (2 hours after snack)
- grilled, baked or sauteed chicken, fish, or turkey
- 1/2 cup brown rice
- favorite veggies (my fave is the Steamers broccoli, carrots, sugar snap peas and water chestnuts)
….. and of course WATER! I drink about 90 ounces of water or more (on workout days) EVERY DAY!
Is this seems feasible for you then do it with me. We can do this together. As an Independent BeachBody Coach (creators of P90X, Insanity, ChaLean Extreme, etc.) I can help you reach your goals, just as I did. I coach many others every day. I am primarily on Facebook where I can interact with you and give tips, tricks and links.
Now, I must be going. It’s Thursday, time for Yoga… X Style. Come on Tony, let’s go!
For more on my P90X journey visit: www.amothersmemoir.com
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