The Magic of Christmas

With Christmas less than 10 days away, Santa is the topic of many conversations in our house. Madeleine, at 2 years 9 months, is very aware of Santa, his reindeer, and all of the grandeur that comes with the holiday. I feel somewhat like a child again as well because, through her, I see the sparkle in everything. There is a glimmer in her eyes that I don't ever want her to lose, and therefore, I welcome every endless question about Santa and his elves. With all of this Christmas talk, I wonder about how to keep the magic alive but also make the holiday more than gifts, and money, and all the materialism. I realize that my children are young, and that the explanations cannot become too complex at this time because they don't have the capacity to fully understand the religious aspects associated with Christmas. But, I feel I do have a responsibility to tell them something beyond the tradition of Santa. I guess I can start by focusing on the importance of giving rather than receiving. Luckily, there is a joy that comes with giving, even at Madeleine's age, that is unparalleled to anything else. I have to admit -- I like opening presents -- but I do find it so satisfying and exciting to buy someone the perfect gift. There's nothing like seeing sheer joy on a face and know that you're the reason for that joy. It feels good and it's addicting, and I wish I had the money to do it all year long.

I am contradicting myself, though, because my purpose is not to show Madeleine that gifts are the focus of Christmas. For me it really is the entire celebration that I love. It's my favorite time of year, and the gifts don't have much to do with that. I love having excuses to get together with family and friends, to enjoy meals together and sip delicious wine. I love the Christmas music, the smell of the Christmas trees, the lights on the houses. After feeling such gratitude at Thanksgiving for health and happiness, I'm reminded again of how lucky I am to have everyone around me that I do. This is what I want to pass on to my children -- a sense of appreciation for what we're blessed to have and an enthusiasm for what's ahead. My parents instilled this in me through our own holiday traditions and maybe that's why Christmas is such a special time for me.

We only truly see the magic in the world for such a short period of our lives, and it's my job to let my children truly relish in that now. My concern that materialism is going to play too large of a role is unfounded, because I have to remember that at this age, kids don't care if they get 2 presents or 20 presents -- the joy really comes in seeing the lights on the tree and hanging the ornaments on the branches (or, pulling them all off as in Owen's case). I know Madeleine is much more excited about the idea of leaving milk and cookies out for Santa than she is for what Santa is bringing her. Such innocent and simple pleasures!

This Christmas and for many more to come, for her sake and for mine, I'll do my best to create this magic and believe in it, too.

When it rains, it pours.

The last week has felt like four excruciating weeks rolled into one. Things are always hectic right now with two small children, but at least they are usually somewhat predictable. It's amazing how quickly things can change! It all started with Madeleine's never-ending drippy nose escalating into congestion accompanied by a violent cough. The next day she had a fever and was basically cranky and miserable when I noticed some green discharge coming out of one eye. Within a couple of hours, her eye got much worse and then the other eye started crusting over. I knew it had to be conjunctivitis but I let the doctor confirm my suspicion that afternoon. Two days later - still suffering the same symptoms - she ended up screaming for an hour straight because of pain in her left ear. Thank God the pediatrician's office is only 2 blocks away (and for health insurance). We went back again so the doctor could take a look in her ears and also got another prescription for the conjunctivitis that had inevitably spread to Owen's eyes. That night, after finally getting the kids down, I thought Keith and I would be able to take a well-deserved break and enjoy a glass of wine. But instead, we got a call from Keith's dad saying that his grandmother had passed away. She had been sick for quite a while, and at 89 years old she had lived a full life, but no one is ever prepared for the death of a loved one. The evening's mood became somber (rightly so) and the focus shifted to finding a flight to Chicago for Saturday, which was only three days away, so Keith could be with his family for the funeral. My mom says that all things, good and bad, come in threes. She's right fairly often, but I was hoping she would be wrong in this case.

On Friday morning, we got our answer. Just before 6 am we woke up to Owen gasping for air. We rushed into his room and found him struggling to breathe. There wasn't too much time to think -- we knew he needed a hospital -- so I grabbed shoes and drove as fast as possible (running a red light) to get him to the ER. Keith stayed home with Madeleine. When we arrived at UCLA Santa Monica, the ER doctor and nurses acted quickly. They gave him a steroid shot, oxygen, and medicine he inhaled through a tube I held around his nose and mouth. As you can imagine, he was frantic during all of this which made his coughing and breathing even more labored. The diagnosis was croup. I know most parents reading this are familiar with croup; it's an inflammation of the vocal cords that causes a "barking" cough. It can be serious because the swelling of the throat can lead to complete blockage of the airway, which is what almost happened to Owen. He was in bad shape when we arrived and the doctor told me there was a good chance he'd have to stay the night but luckily, after six hours his breathing had improved enough for him to be discharged. I've never wanted to leave a place more.

Keith left the next morning to Chicago and I took care of our two run down kids for the weekend. Although I could have used his help at home, we both knew the only place for him was in Illinois with his family. He was able to say goodbye to his grandmother and, I'm so relieved to say, within a couple of days we were able to say goodbye to the kids' sicknesses.

I've spent a lot of time focusing on everything that went wrong lately, when only a few weeks ago it was Thanksgiving and I said I would make a point of counting my blessings more often. What I've learned from this experience is that just as quickly as things turned upside down for us, I know they'll turn right-side up again. In many ways they already have.

On Sunday, I signed a new client that I'm really excited about working with. She's a young, working mom with a beautiful 15 month old daughter, and she has already agreed to train for a 5K. My business is growing and I'm so fortunate to meet fascinating people as a result. Based on mom's prediction, I just experienced the first of three good things that are going to happen. So if I look at it that way, things are definitely on the up-swing.

Law of Motion

My clients were not enthusiastic about their workouts today, to say the least. I had to do a bit more coaxing than usual but, I have to admit, I needed my own persuading this weekend too. Who wants to work out after a few days of excess eating and drinking? Our bodies adjust so quickly to idleness. Just like Newton's First Law of Motion says, "..objects in a state of uniform motion tend to remain in motion unless an external force is applied." In this case, the external force was turkey (and stuffing, potatoes, apple crumble, wine, etc.). It's hard to start moving again once you've had a few days of leisure.

With the L.A. Marathon three months away, I no longer get to casually run on the weekends -- I have a training plan to follow and it's fairly aggressive. Saturday morning I woke up groggy, lazy, and unmotivated but I had to run 10 miles if I wanted to keep on track with training, so there was no way I could crawl back into bed. To make matters worse, after I finally got dressed and out the door, I went to turn on my ipod and there was no battery life left in it. Talk about frustrating! To Keith's horror (and after reflecting, my own), I dropped an F-bomb in front of the kids. Not my finest moment. I went back inside and charged the thing for 15 minutes while convincing myself this run was still necessary. Well, I eventually made it out and ended up having a really great and, rather, easy run through the Palisades and out along the beach. The turkey was out of my way and my body was back in motion.

Needless to say, I could easily relate to the way my clients were feeling this morning. But I knew that once their workouts were finished, we'd have crossed the hurdle. Keeping our bodies active and healthy is a choice, and it's a choice we need to make time and time again. There will always be external forces that impede us from moving forward (literally and figuratively) but it's up to us to find the strength to push through. With Christmas around the corner, I know I'll have plenty more of those lazy Saturday mornings -- that's life -- but next time I'll try to watch my language.

In thanks

I'm floored that Thanksgiving is only 3 days away. I swear that only yesterday we were celebrating the 4th of July at the beach! I guess that's one of the downsides of living in California -- there isn't a distinction between seasons, so the only marker that Thanksgiving is around the corner is the abundance of turkeys, pumpkin pies, and stuffing mix at the grocery stores. You can occasionally find a street that has some trees with different color leaves, but it isn't common. There are so many perks to living in this state. I'd say the only real con is missing out on the changes that occur in nature as the climate shifts. A shift for us is 79 degrees to 59 degrees, and that's quite a chilly day in our books.

Thanksgiving is my husbands favorite holiday. He loves spending the lazy day eating homemade appetizers and drinking cold beer, while watching football. Of course, since children entered the picture almost 3 years ago, the lazy day isn't quite so lazy anymore. Between my brother and me, we have 4 children under the age of 4 so all family get-togethers are hectic. But each holiday also takes on new meaning. For example this year Madeleine, my 2 1/2 year old, is inquisitive about everything so I've been doing my best to explain the purpose of Thanksgiving to her. In doing so, I've reminded myself of it's importance as well. She and I sit and talk about everything we're thankful for and, as you can imagine, she comes up with some pretty unusual things -- the windows, bubbles, the sand (all valid nonetheless). Through her, I see the world in a much more simple, beautiful way and this in itself is something to be grateful for.

This year I feel especially thankful for two healthy children, a hard-working and dedicated husband, a supportive, loving family, and friends that give so much meaning to my life. I also feel so fortunate to be doing something where I'm teaching but also simultaneously learning. It's been a great year for me, and I'm just realizing how unfortunate it is that it takes a holiday to make me see that.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends! Hope your tables are full of food and surrounded by those you love.

Plates Spinning

I don't know about others, but I seem to be at my best when I have too many things to do and too little time to do them. It's seems contradictory that I would perform better when I have less time to focus on attention and detail but, for some reason, I really do. I guess it comes down to time management. If I have too much, I don't use it wisely. I've never be good with leisure time. Even when I was home on maternity leave with my first child (which become permanent leave after a few months), I didn't feel right just sitting around watching videos from Netflix. Don't get me wrong -- I did sit and watch plenty of movies, but I was always struggling internally thinking about other things I should be doing. That's when I decided to do research about personal training. Two months after Madeleine was born, my study materials arrived and my DVD player was turned off.

These days, with two children under the age of three there isn't time to watch anything from Netflix -- I barely get a chance to turn on network television. But that's okay with me. I'm happy that I have an outlet like personal training to fill whatever remaining space I have in my days, and I also really like having this blog to document the never-ending dialogue going on in my head. The only downside to being busy is that the days fly by and I forget to appreciate all the little moments. I get so carried away on what I should be doing next that I'm not always fully present in what I'm doing at that moment. That's definitely something I need to work on. The name of my business is also an underlying theme in my life -- balance has to be implemented in every aspect of living. I'm great at juggling multiple things but unless I have balance and remember to take everything in stride, something will eventually be missed. I wouldn't want it to be my children's childhoods.

Settled at last.

We moved for the fifth time in five years almost two weeks ago, and my head is finally above water. Based on the frequency of relocations, you'd think I enjoy packing and unpacking but it's actually my least favorite thing to do -- especially the packing (I don't know how people choose to become professional movers). Our first move was from San Francisco after we got married. Keith was offered a job in L.A. and I also wanted to move back down closer to my family and friends. Since then, we've been renting in different places between Santa Monica and Hancock Park trying to find our niche. After living in Hancock Park for a year, we're back on the west side in the Pacific Palisades and, I have to say, the living is easy here. Through all of this reshuffling, I've been tested in a few different ways. First of all, boxing up a house is much different when you have two toddler pulling at your legs. My patience, mental, and physical stamina were all challenged on a daily basis. When we started on the huge task of bubble- wrapping all of the dishes in the kitchen, Keith asked me which side of the wrap went against the glass. That gives you an idea of who has done most of the packing over the last five years. After I mocked him for such a ridiculous question, we set off in a steady (and familiar) pace, and we got a lot done quickly. I guess that's one of the perks of moving often -- you know exactly which rooms to tackle first. I have to give my children credit, too. During the last few days before the movers came, our downstairs living room was literally stacked with boxes from floor to ceiling, with just the tiniest path allowing us to get to the kitchen. I was frustrated and claustrophobic, but the kids didn't even seem to notice. Madeleine pushed her garbage truck and Owen pushed the shopping cart on the floor in the cramped remaining space, they threw balls and built towers with the blocks. None of it bothered them.

I was worried about how they would transition to their new bedrooms and because of that, our top priority when moving day finally arrived was to unpack their rooms and get them organized as quickly as possible. By bedtime on the first night in our new place, toys were put in their proper places on shelves, clothes were folded in the right drawers, and their lovey's were waiting to be cuddled in their cribs. They both slept through the night with only one brief squawk from Owen at 1am. I was relieved and impressed. Over the next 24 hours we unpacked every box and hung all of our photos and paintings. Besides needing a few new pieces of furniture, our new home felt comfortable and inviting. (I guess that's another perk of moving often -- you don't accumulate a lot of junk so finding places for things isn't too difficult).

Now that we've been here for almost 2 weeks, I can say with 100% confidence that we don't want to think about moving again for quite some time. Living close to the village allows us to have access to everything we need without the hassle of driving. I started working with a client who lives 6 blocks away and with her, I'm able to explore the beautiful streets surrounding us. Living close to the ocean and having such incredible natural scenery reminds me of why I'm so happy being a personal trainer; I'm inspired by the dedication of the people I work with and I'm also motivated by the simple pleasure of being outdoors. At the end of the day, home is definitely where your family is, but it also has to be a place you take pride in. I'm glad to be home.

No more excuses...

So, my goal as a personal trainer isn't to become rich (I don't even know if that's possible unless you're Bob or Jillian). The reason I'm passionate about fitness is because I value it in my life, and I want to be able to assist others in finding it's place in their lives. That being said, I can't do it for free because being certified costs money. And staying current and competitive also costs money. However, I do want to offer everyone a huge break in training sessions for the next two months. Call it an early Christmas gift. I know how easy it is to put exercise on the back burner, especially when money is an issue -- and these days, let's be honest, it's an issue for all of us. If you need someone to give you an extra push or you've wanted to work with a trainer before and just haven't pulled the trigger, please get in touch with me. I'll make it worth your while.

Balancing Act

Before I had my second child, everyone warned me how difficult is was going to be. Friends and family thought I'd go crazy without help at least a couple times per week. But staying at home meant we had to cut back on spending, so having a nanny or weekly babysitter wasn't in the budget. I was happily surprised to find that the first few months of having a newborn and not-yet two year old wasn't that tough. A part of me wanted to say, "See everyone, it's totally possible to do this by myself and still remain sane!". There were definitely days that were challenging, but overall time flew by without too many hitches. Before I knew it, my newborn wasn't a newborn anymore -- at five months old he cut his first tooth, and two days later, his second. Owen has always been a happy kid but with each passing day, he's become more animated, more vocal, and much more curious about the world around him. My daughter, Madeleine, had been a relatively easy baby, but now she's knee deep in the toddler phase and that's a whole new ballgame. For the first time since Owen's birth, I'm feeling stretched trying to give both kids what they need, when they need it. Foolish me -- I thought I had this whole thing mastered. I'm realizing now that the hard part is only beginning.

I was at the park yesterday and after ten minutes, I couldn't help but think of Octo-mom. Madeleine was in the sand and ready to build sand castles. All she wanted was for me to sit with her and play. Owen has just started walking, so as long as his little legs are cruising, he's happy. Unfortunately, he likes to hold my hand while he waddles along, which means I have to be up. In the past I could get Owen to sit in the sand with us, and even though that usually meant he'd end up eating some, it was the price I paid (or he paid) for keeping Madeleine content. Things changed yesterday -- he wanted to walk everywhere and sitting in the sand wasn't an option. So I did what any mother with more than one child does -- I ran back and forth between the two of them; I'd walk with Owen for a minute and then leave him holding onto a ladder to go build a sand castle with Madeleine. This worked for a little while until they decided this juggling wasn't sufficient. Both started wailing and were no longer interested in walking or playing in the sand. That's when Octo-mom came to mind. How can she possibly give all of those children the attention they need and deserve? I was having problems just managing my two at the park for an hour. I can't begin to imagine what she goes through every hour of the day. I'm not saying that my children don't get plenty of attention because they do -- it's just not always equal. Owen is at an age where everything he does is adorable and he gets applause for almost every accomplishment (stacking blocks, playing peek-a-boo.... you know what I mean). Madeleine can be left out occasionally because of that. As our first-born, she's been spoiled just because of birth order but she's had to take a backseat lately, and that makes me sad. She doesn't miss a beat, so every time Owen gets extra kisses or accolades for his daily successes, she's aware of it. I do my best to include Madeleine and praise her as much as possible, but it's hard to compete with a smiley, drooling, chunky eleven month old who can't talk back yet.

We're all aware of our strengths and weaknesses, but as a parent my children reveal weaknesses I didn't know I had. There's nothing more humbling than having to say you're sorry to a two year old. I think I'm a good mother but Madeleine and Owen remind me that I have a lot of learning to do, and balancing their needs is just the tip of the iceberg.

Runner's High

I didn't think I had it in me to run this morning. The kids woke up early - I first heard Owen a little after 5am - and after an exhausting week, I just didn't know if I'd be able to pull out a long run. I signed up for the L.A. Marathon and I haven't started training for it yet (it isn't until March), but I am trying to get a few extra miles under my feet on Saturdays. I set out a little before 9am and, surprisingly, I felt good from the minute I started. I don't know about other people, but I don't think there are too many things in life quite as satisfying as a good run. Even though I've been running for years, every run is still different. Most take effort, but not enough effort that I don't want to do again the next day. Only occasionally do I have a run that's completely effortless, and when that happens I feel pure joy. Those are the times that revelations occur, and the most insurmountable obstacles overcome. It just so happened that today was one of those days. What a wonderful surprise!

I have to admit, I also run because I like to say I'm a runner. There's an unspoken bond shared between people that run. It's like being a member of a secret club you that you never actually knew you joined, but you're always a member as long as you get outside and run. This club has no prejudices -- you can be 20 or 80, you can be 100 lbs. or 300 lbs., male/female, any ethnicity. All are welcome. When runners pass each other, there's an understanding that's expressed in the most simple gesture - a nod, a wink, a quick wave. Sometimes that's all I need to help me get through the last mile. I don't know if it's the competitiveness that makes me move faster when I see another runner or the encouragement I get just by seeing another person out there, committed to moving no matter how slow or how fast they are. All I do know is that I feel better when I run and I also feel inspired when I see other runners. That's enough to keep me devoted.

Body in Balance

If I look back at my life I shouldn't be surprised that I eventually discovered personal training to be my calling. California is a state obsessed with physical appearance. But most of the obsession isn't healthy and it influences people not to look at themselves with acceptance but with an extremely critical eye. I, too, am guilty of this but my main competition has always been myself. I never needed my parents to push me to study or apply myself -- I was eager to do the best I could, and I put a lot of pressure on myself when I didn't perform up to the standards I thought I was capable of. I know many people are similar to me. Type A personalities tend to take for granted all the positive charateristics that make us Type A's and focus instead on all of our short-comings. This is the way I viewed my body as well. But exercise helped changed that and, more specifically, running. I began going on short runs when I was fifteen and away at boarding school for one year. Those runs became my escape from reality. I still run today, but the reasons have changed over the years. In my teens and early twenties, running showed me that just as I could push myself to study and get an A on an exam, I could also train and push myself to run half-marathons and then marathons. Mental stamina gave me physical stamina. All of a sudden my body wasn't something that was working against me but for me.

After having my daughter, I not only became much more accepting of my body but also empowered by it and, quite frankly, in awe of it. Other moms know what I'm talking about. In pregnancy, my perspective shifted drastically and I was really able to see myself in a completely different light. My priority became being the healthiest me possible for my baby. I not only felt better when I ate and exercised in a balanced and moderate way, but I also felt like it was my duty to give that to the child growing inside of me. I was extremely fortunate to deliver a healthy baby girl, and then twenty-one months later, a healthy baby boy. I may have had healthy babies even if I hadn't exercised throughout my pregnancies, but I do believe that fitness allowed me to better accept the many changes going on in my body. Once again, exercise remained a constant but the reasons for doing it changed.

My interest in personal training naturally progressed during the last few years as I realized the importance physical fitness has had in my life. I strive everyday to keep my body in balance, but it's a daily decision and effort. I know that when I do, I'm a better mom, wife, friend, and daughter. That's reason enough to keep working at it.

So this is a blog...

Most people have something to say. I guess it comes down to the fact that some can express themselves better than others, and therefore as a result, those people are heard and can actually get their messages across. Writing is a luxury not everyone is afforded. I'm far from being a writer in any sense of the word, but I will make a humble attempt to speak to you, my friends, about the necessity of balance in life. I believe that balance comes through fusing fitness with good nutrition, which sounds like such a simple equation. But we all know that eating right and exercising can be extremely daunting. I'm hoping that through this blog we can encourage and inspire each other, because each day we decide how we want to treat ourselves and maybe together we can all learn how to do that better.