finding that damn silver lining

So, last week's blah turned into a full-blown Gah! this week.  I had a miserable weekend and start to the week.  The details are not worth getting into (I keep reminding myself to respect other people's privacy.  Not always so easy to do, especially when you've decided to document large portions of your life on the internet for goodness' sake.).  


Let's just say, I have been feeling all the crap emotions you can think of... depressed, frustrated, angry, foolish, sad... and so on and so forth.  Basically, I wanted to cry or yell most of the time (those two sides of me hard at work!), and I wanted to eat every piece of chocolate between here and New Mexico.


Now, with that review of how crummy I was feeling out of the way, let's discuss what I realized because of it and how I began to slowly get the eff over it (mostly - I mean, sheesh, I'm only human...).  


Firstly, one of this week's problems was a disagreement with a friend.  I fretted and vacillated and sighed big sighs and felt nauseous.  Yes, all of that over a disagreement.  Are you beginning to see the sometimes ridiculous nature of my internal emotional process?  I have always been incredibly indecisive and conflict phobic.  Not wanting anyone to be angry with me, or to hurt feelings, or to act rashly, coupled with not being able to make up my own mind, creates many a headache!  


So, what did I learn about myself, you ask?  (Because I did mention that the learning was taking place!)


Here it is:  I feel much better having made a decision.  


So, do I win first prize for the Obvious Awards, or what?  It seems so simple and, well, obvious thinking about it now.  But, as of three days ago, that light had not dawned on this marble head.  


However, sitting down and making a decision, in this case writing a letter and sending it out, (coupled with a decent night of sleep - Quarto only got up twice, hooray!) lifted 80% of the weight from my emotional load and relieved that feeling of impending puke-age.  So, in the future, MAKE A DECISION.  


I've put it at the top of my list. 

Ah, but I haven't told you about the list yet.  I got the inspiration from The Happiness Project.  My bestest has been telling me for weeks now about the book, written by Gretchen Rubin.  So, feeling crummy this week, I decided to look into the project of happiness.  I started poking around the site and noticed on the left of the page Rubin's list of "Twelve Personal Commandments."  Check it out, I think you'll be pleasantly inspired, as I was.


So, I've decided to work on my own list.  You already know the first one!  MAKE A DECISION...  (I may edit that to read Make a Fricking Decision in the final list...).


Some other front runners for the list:  Trust Myself, Give Myself Permission to be Myself, Count My Blessings, Don't be Afraid of New People...


I'll update on this in a future post.  I've got a lot of thinking left to do.  Don't want to rush into anything! ;)  But, I do plan on buying a copy of the book (and soon) and I'll also post on what I thought of it over all.


Can you believe it?  The learning about myself doesn't stop there, either.  


Thirdly, I realized that I *do* feel better when I am exercising every day.  I know, I know.  This is an old realization.  You've heard this one before.  But, it's finally sinking in for me. 


I went three days not getting around to exercising.  I told myself I was feeling too crummy to get up and move.  But, silly me!  A lot of why I was feeling too crummy was because I refused to, well, get up and move!  So, I jumped right back into the swing of P90X things on Monday and...I felt better.  There is a real sense of accomplishment and satisfaction when you finish a workout (that maybe you didn't want to even start), covered in sweat, muscles all loose and flexible and spent.  I'm always happier afterward.  Endorphines and all that jazz.  But, it's also being able to say to myself, See?  You didn't want to get up, but look, we just kicked that workout's a**!


Another thing suffered during those three days, my calorie counting.  Yes, I have still been (for the most part faithfully) logging in my food on myfooddiary.com.  If you are thinking about losing weight, I really do recommend giving this site the once over.  It has been a lifesaver for me during this process.  


Anyway, I didn't log my food very well over those three days.  I didn't want to know the damage I was doing.  I also didn't weigh myself, for the same reason.


Now, I let a few days go by after I got back on the working out/logging meals horse and began weighing myself again.  All of which brings us to yesterday...


I now weigh 179.0 lbs.  I am the smallest (lightest? thinnest?  What is the correct term here?) I have been in over THREE YEARS!  Hooray.  Hooray!  HOORAY!  


So, fourth realization:  I'm not actually eating all of my emotions any more.  

Is there a better snack than Nutella?  Seriously.

I thought over those three "bad" days and realized that when I felt the urge to eat a package of cookies (sigh, it always comes back to cookies.  Have you noticed?), I went and got a half slice of 100% whole wheat bread with extra crunchy peanut butter and Nutella. 


I wasn't really hungry; I just needed chocolate, in a primal, hurting girl kind of way.  So, is it great that I ate just because I was feeling badly?  No.  But, we're looking for that damn silver lining here.  So, yay for making a sensible choice at least.  If you've gotta get the chocolate, at least make it smart chocolate, right?


I also went food shopping and bought Cocoa Roast Almonds (yum) and Dark Chocolate Granola Thins (double yum).  Satisfy those cravings in the healthiest way possible.  It's my new motto.  You can steal it if you like.  I won't mind. :)


Fifthly (Oh yeah, there's more!), I realized that the clothes I'm wearing make a difference.  This may be the most superficial of the "learnin'," but it's so true.  We all have those clothes that make us feel terrific and, on the flipside of the closet, those lurkers that make us feel dumpy or unattractive, etc.  Well, I had drawers full of them!  


So, yesterday I "made a decision."  I hung up all my favorite shirts and pants.  I went through all of my clothes and, four months later, got rid of every single article that had "Maternity" on the tag!  Yes, I am embarrassed to admit that I was still occasionally wearing maternity clothes.  Sigh, silly me again.  I also weeded out every shapeless, bland, worn out shirt I had (minus a few bedtime t-shirts, let's not be crazy!).   


Then I sorted through some clothes that were given to me over the weekend.  I thought I'd have to wait a bit before any of the pants would really fit me - they were all 12s and 14s.  Well, I decided to try a pair of jeans, just for the heck of it.  Good to have a goal in mind, you know?  How much work will I have to put in before these fit?


Well, color me surprised!  All of the 14s fit - loosely!  I squeezed my butt into both 12s as well, got them zipped and everything, but I won't be parading those out in public just yet!  They're still a bit too tight for public consumption.


So, I am nearly a size 12 and weighing less than I have in three years.  That's not silver lining, is it?  That's, like, platinum lining.  


Here's what I'm coming away from this week with: Just keep focusing on the positive, because you can't always be in control of your circumstances, but you can always be in control of your outlook.


Let me leave you with this last thing, this song by a new band I just found this week (feels providential)...give it a listen.





Have a great rest of your week, lovelies.
all love, 


nik*

slow train coming...

The baby, Quarto, woke at 4:30 this morning and had a lot of trouble getting back to sleep.  By trouble, I mean, he was completely uninterested in it.  Next, Prima and Secondo got up around 7:00.  Prima already grimacing and fighting with her brother.  Secondo already whiny.  Last up was Terza, already yelling and crying, at 8:00 this morning.  So, by 8:30, as they continued to fight, cry, and whine and were just pulling out their handy-dandy attitudes, I was wondering what mood altering contaminant had been added to our house's water. 

A few hours later, things have calmed down.  Bellies have been filled (in some cases, a few times), Prima and I have done our morning Yoga (a new development that we are both enjoying - time together doing something fun, challenging, and easily adaptable for our differing exercise needs), and Quarto is happily taking a nap in the swing.  Phew! 

But, this "funk" has not been contained to the kiddos.  In fact, posting this week has been very difficult.  My optimism of the past few weeks has been on a steady decline since the weekend.  Subsequently, I haven't really known what to write about.  I hate to admit to feeling less than top-notch.  I want so badly to be in control of my emotions at all times, to just get over the past few years as quickly as possible, to get my head on straight and my heart healed up with a great big wall built around it so it never breaks again. 

I read one of my journals from the last months of my marriage last night.  There was a lot going on in my mind then and I wrote almost daily, trying to figure out (as best I could) what I was really thinking and feeling as things got progressively worse.  One line, in particular, has stayed with me today.  

When did I become so f*ing pitiable?!

I was feeling very helpless, lost, and impossibly weak.  I also felt other people's pity (or, more kindly, their empathy) pressing down on me.  Mostly because I had created (or helped to create) for myself another decimated home and every "I'm so sorry" seemed to compound my own feelings of regret, remorse, and failure.  I don't know that I've ever felt so alone before, even as family and friends pressed closer with love and support.  To "suddenly" lose your best friend (no matter how long the process of losing may have been), the person that is supposed to know you the best, hold you when you are feeling your lowest, is a frightening place to be.  


These days, that state of fragility is slowly fading, or better - is slowly being fortified - but it is a slow process. Painfully slow at times.  

Of course, as a very good friend pointed out to me, it's only been three months.  How easy it can be to forget that.  Time is a strange thing.  Three months can be both an eternity and no time at all; just one of many paradoxes in my life lately.  Those two different people pulling me in opposite directions.  The past few days, their fight has gone something like this:


Me 1:  Let's sit and read old letters and journals and have a good cry.


Me 2:  No thanks!  Let's go punch and kick the air and work out our frustrations. Stop feeling so sorry for yourself!


Me 1:  Well, can we at least eat some cake and listen to nostalgic songs?


Me 2:  Bah!  Let's listen to all new music that doesn't remind us of anything and have some air-popped popcorn.


Me 1:  But we need to grieve a little!  


Me 2:  But we need to get over it!


In some ways, both sides are correct; alone, they could not be more wrong.  I do want and need to get over it, but what I realized while working so hard at trying to write this post is, a little residual grief never killed anyone.  How can you heal from something so big, so traumatic in such a short time?  Moreover, how can you truly heal from something if you are constantly running from it, trying to pretend that it didn't happen?  


So, both sides are right.  I need to grieve every now and then, but I also need to keep moving forward.  That's the trick, as best as I can figure it:  To wallow in sadness when it surfaces, while trying not to venture in any further than my ankles.  In the past, I've tended to wade in up to my neck and get pulled under by a vicious riptide of depression.  (It's mid-July, a beach analogy seems only fitting).   


So, what is the solution when I am feeling low?  To listen to both of "myselves." I went and read my journals, had a small cry over a few emails, and ate a milk chocolate SnackPack last night.  Today, I worked out and drank lots of water (and ate a SnackPack!  Hey, some things don't change...like the healing power of chocolate pudding - especially at only 120 calories!).  


I have to admit, I do always feel better when I'm movin' and groovin'.  So, with that in mind, I have been looking for things to keep me reasonably busy (because for some reason, keeping up with all of these kids all day just isn't enough...) and to help me reach all those pesky, wonderful goals I set for myself.


This week, I started the P90X workout series.  (Sorry, Jillian Michaels, I'm sure I'll be returning to you in time).  My lovely next door neighbor lent the DVDs to me and I have to say - I love it!  I'm doing the "Lean" schedule, for those of you that know anything about the program.  It's just a bit more cardio-heavy, which is what I'm looking for.  Today was arms and shoulders, plus a short "Ab Ripper."  I am going to be feeling it tomorrow!  But, like I said, I love it.  Tomorrow is Yoga (we'll see if Prima will let me out of our morning routine or not.  Maybe I'll be doing double Yoga duty tomorrow).


I also decided to start my myspace music page today.  You can check it out here.  But I'd like it even more if you went and "liked" the facebook page, please!  Niki Ste Croix on FB.  I've put up two songs so far.  They've got long dialogue intros, but have patience, the songs are in there!  


So we've come full circle today, you and I.  While I was having trouble finishing up (or getting going even) writing this post, an entire day passed.  Yes, it has taken me the whole day to get this out there.  Everyone is in bed, and that is where I am headed.   


May you all have a wonderful Thursday and Friday and a beautiful weekend.  I'll try to get a new post up earlier next week.


All love, 


nik*

...music is a great healer...

I've discovered a new love on the internet.  It's called turntable.fm.  


For those of you who've never heard of it, you're missing out.  It's still in beta right now, so, you've got to have a facebook account and a friend that uses it for easiest access.  But, the general premise is as follows: 


In any given "room," there are five DJs playing music.  They take turns, down the line, playing a song from their queue, one song at a time.  Whether you are a DJ or just a listener in the room, you then get to like or dislike it.  (In turntable terms: "Lame" it or "Awesome" it).  If enough people dislike a song, it is skipped. Otherwise, if you like it, you just rock out with your little avatars bobbing their heads away.    

A typical turntable room.  That's my queue along the side. 

Turntable has a pretty great collection of songs already uploaded, but should you find them lacking a particular song you are jonesing to play, you've got the option of uploading it yourself.  There are established public rooms that can have over a hundred people in them, where you'll find it is nearly impossible to get any DJ time.  So, fun if you want to just listen.


However, I prefer the small, private rooms myself.  Hanging out with a few "real life" friends listening to music and surprising each other with your picks.  


Sorry, I should have mentioned the best part about turntable before now.  You can't see what anyone else is going to play.  So, it's always a surprise!  The site is quickly becoming my favorite site for listening to music.  Mainly because, unlike pandora or last.fm (which I also enjoy), you can actually discuss the music you're listening to with other people.  For me, that's a blast.


Haha, I realize I sound a bit like an ad for turntable, which is not my intent.  It just happens that it coincides with something I've been thinking about a lot lately.  The power of music.  To mend, to uplift, to help you wallow - to somehow, beautifully, do all three at the same time.


An example of this kind of song, for me, is The Talking Heads' This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody).  (Okay, I cannot NOT mention this.  In a strange turn of events, that some might find interesting, I've got last.fm playing in the background right now, and this *exact* song just started playing...as I was typing it.  What a strange and lovely coincidence!).  

So, firstly, Naive Melody helps me wallow, because I never really listened to The Talking Heads before I met Dos.  Of course, I'd heard Psycho Killer and Burning Down the House before.  Can you live on this planet and NOT know of those songs?  But, other than a few of their popular tracks, I wasn't very familiar with this awesome, quirky band.  Naive Melody in particular makes me think of Dos in nostalgic terms.  It was on the mix CD he gave me, on our first date ever.  It became one of "our" songs.  So, wallow wallow wallow.


But, secondly, it's uplifting too.  When they hit those three part harmony Ooo's, a little part of me melts.  Plus, home IS where I want to be, so how can I not love this song and feel good about it?  


I really love those musical moments when the harmony is just so, or suddenly strings sweep in, or a great backbeat starts pumping, etc etc etc.  You know, when the music really just grabs you.  Sigh.  The other wonderful thing is, it's different songs for different folks.  I love most kinds of music, but screamo, polka, and heavy metal have never really done it for me.  But, how great is it that there are people out there screaming, oompa-pa-pa-ing, and thrashing along?  Music moves us!  Whether it's Dr. Dre, Imogen Heap, Katy Perry, The Chemical Brothers, Mumford and Sons, Frank Sinatra, The White Stripes, Damien Rice, or anything and everything in between, it gets us.  Sometimes when no one around us does.  And, when we are hurting, it heals us.


I think the 'healing' bit is pretty obvious, but I'll expound anyway.  (It's how I roll...).  A few months ago, I could not have listened to Naive Melody without tears, tears of the my-heart's-being-ripped-out-and-shredded-before-me variety, and all of the snot and runny mascara that entails.  But look at me now -- my heart has miraculously returned to my chest, beating with only a slight arrhythmia and a couple of Band-Aids.

So, along these same lines of healing and moving on, I thought I would give an update on where I'm at goal-wise today.  

As of today, I am 183.4 lbs.  That's a total loss of 16.6 lbs in 47 days.  Not too shabby.  

My weight loss chart from myfooddiary.com to date.

But, as anyone losing weight and getting healthy knows, it's not all about the scale, right?  So, here's a quick breakdown of inches lost as well.  (If I'm going to toot my horn, it might as well be a bullhorn...):


Waist: 5.7 inches
Hips: 3.0 inches
Chest: 2.6 inches
Thigh: 2.5 inches
Calf: 0.5 inches
Bicep: 0.4 inches


That's 14.7 total inches lost.  Hooray.  Let's have a party, a "yay me" party! 


I've been doing various workouts, instead of sticking strictly to the Jillian Michaels DVD. I get too bored with the same video over and over.  So, thanks to Netflix instant streaming, I've been changing it up with Pilates, "Dancing Off the Inches" (a little goofy, but a fun way to get in some cardio when I'm bored with the other stuff), and some beginner yoga.  Also, I've thrown in a few Turbo Jam DVDs now and then.  Fun, but I notice strain on my knees more with this set of workouts than any of the others.  


Also, we've got a pool.  Hallelujah! So, I try to swim every day, or at least every other.  Many days, I'll wait until the little ones are settled down for the night (around 7:30/8:00 or so) and the bigs are watching a movie or playing a board game before bed to get in the pool.  I love the pool at twilight, when the fireflies start blinking around the yard.  Another great healing time.  I *need* to move some music playing device out there, so I can combine the two!  (I'll work on that. Haha.).


Hmmmm, what else?  Oh, yes.  Other than one small hiccup, I am still off the cigarettes.  Whoo hoo.  


So, really, the only goal that I am slacking on right now is the creativity-harnessing.  I haven't sent out any stories yet.  Part of that is the reading fees for most online submissions.  But, part of it is time as well.  Perhaps a bit less time on turntable and a bit more time submitting is in order?  


Also, I'm still practicing away on the guitar.  I'll record one of my new songs soon.  But, here's a confession...I kind of want to be thinner before I post anything more to youtube.  Ha, is that so wrong? 


In the interim, I thought I would post a link here to a song I wrote and sang for the band Sainte Croix.  (It was a band started by Dos and I, as well as a few other family members and loved ones that is now pretty much defunct.).  So, enjoy - hopefully - this song, Paul's Sorrow.


So, it's another new week full of promise, lovelies.  I hope you all feel the same.  Have a wonderful, blessed week.


All love, 


nik*

Still scared after all these years...

Have you ever seen a child in an absolute panic?  Forehead clammy, eyes tight at the corners and brimming with tears and rising fear?  Breathing, shallow and fast?


My nine year old daughter (let's call her, Prima) had a dentist appointment today.  We'd known for a week now that some work would need to be done, poor lovey.  The unfortunate thing (for Prima, her dentist, and me) is: she's got a very low threshold for pain.  


I mean, I cannot remember a single physical where fits (tears, boogers, hyperventilation, the works) have not started at the merest whisper of "immunizations."  Once, by far the worst instance, it took two nurses (with my help!) to restrain her while she received the dreaded shots.


So, there Prima sat at 11 o'clock this morning, tears falling down her cheeks and sniffles rumbling through her nose like a thunderstorm, asking, "Do I have to get a shot?!"  


As an adult (I use this term loosely.  Even though I am 30 and the mother of four children - the oldest of which will be a DECADE old in October - I still have trouble thinking of myself as "a grown-up."  Naturally, living with my parents again isn't exactly fostering that self-image...), I've gotten a little better than Prima at hiding my panic attacks.  


I would have to say that my threshold for emotional pain has always been relatively low (much like my self-esteem).  Subsequently, I've always wondered to myself, am I abnormal?  Does anyone else walk through life secretly afraid that they are a nuisance to those around them?  Do other people consider themselves uninteresting, unoriginal, underwhelming?  In short, is anyone else an insecure emotional wreck?  


Of course, like Prima, I don't walk around afraid of the "needle" all the time.  


Most days, I cruise along blithely ignoring the niggling voice in my head whispering about past failures or hypothetical future disappointments.  (Coincidentally, that voice is the same one that's whining for chocalate chip cookies.  She's such a b...witch.).


But, I've got my triggers, like: disagreements or confrontations, interviews and meetings, parties with a large number of people I don't know, parties with a small number of people I don't know, "small talk," and so on.  


I guess what I'm trying to say is, meeting new people and "making new friends" are far outside of my comfort zone.   Again, no big deal.  Many people are admittedly shy around new people.  Also, who the heck LIKES confrontations?  Or work meetings?


However, my problems go beyond these examples.  


There are days when I will be convinced (that voice again - she's a persuasive witch) that I am imposing myself on my established friends.  Every few weeks, I'll check in with an "I'm not bothering you, am I?"  


My personal version of, "Do I have to get a shot?" 


I will occasionally get myself into a funk where I question every decision I've ever made...forehead clammy, breathing shallow.  I'll weigh my accomplishments, my worth, my being and (unlike my actual, physical weight) I'll be light on that self-imposed scale.  


It's a snake that's been eating its own tail my whole life...and I'm sick of it.  


I much prefer the symbolism of the phoenix and I'm ready to adopt it as my own.  I've been burned, but damnit, I'm daring myself to rise up from the ash. (Thank you, Ani DiFranco).  


Not everyone *needs* to find me interesting or worthwhile.  


D'UH!  Has it really taken me 30 years to get to this point?  


I've got to work on getting just one person on this planet to really love me unequivocally with their whole heart...me.  Everything else will fall into place if I can just do that.  If I can just...


There I go again!  Doubting myself already!  Sheesh.


Today gave me hope though...


Prima asked, "Do I have to get a shot?," heard the answer, "Yes," and (for the first time ever) dried her eyes with a tissue, sat back, and took it like a Big Girl.  I've never been so proud.  More than her tears, that new-found bravery, that determination to just roll with it, brought tears to my eyes...and some fortitude to my heart.