Out with the old, in with the new.

Where to begin! It's been three weeks since I made an entry and so much has happened during that time. Not all of it is worth mentioning, but I will talk about one of the more major occurrences that made these days blend together in one hazy blur.

I know that first and foremost balance has to come from within. We all strive to keep a certain internal balance through work, play, rest, and exercise. But there definitely is an external balance that needs to be maintained in life in order for there to be harmony. Keith is in intricate part of my external balance. With him, life runs much more smoothly. Together we tackle the challenges and the surprises in life, and everything seems easier when he's by my side. Unfortunately, this balance was thrown off on the day after Christmas. I had to call an ambulance for Keith that morning because of a slipped disc in his back. His back issues have been a problem for quite awhile -- he had surgery on a different disc five years ago -- but his pain reached a pivotal point that day, causing him to pass out and leaving him with little sensation in his right leg. As resistant as he was, he knew he had no other choice but to go to the hospital. We learned that the disc was impinging on nerves in his spine which was agonizing and also resulted in the numbness. The ER doc gave him prescriptions for steroids and vicodin, and sent us off with referrals to a neurosurgeon and physical therapist. We found out the hard way that most doctors in L.A. (at least, most neurosurgeons) don't work during the week between Christmas and New Years, so he still hasn't been seen by a specialist. The days that followed Keith's ER visit were difficult for him, to say the least, and challenging for me.

It's been almost ten days since that incident and, I'm relieved to say, he's able to walk again without pain. Having a husband that's home but miserable, and completely incapable of doing most things is distressing. I felt helpless in that I couldn't do anything to alleviate his discomfort, and I also felt overwhelmed dealing with the never-ending demands of my children day and night. I was disappointed that the week of vacation Keith had taken was going to be completely lost on his slow recovery. All of these different emotions put a dark cloud on my outlook. But I managed to find time during the kids naps to run, and I think those little escapes helped me keep my perspective. His disability reminded me of how essential his role is in our family. I've never discounted how important Keith is to all of us, but as a part-time working/full-time mother, I definitely feel at times that I take the brunt of all the child-related and household-related duties. All of these seemed minuscule when he was erased from the equation for a week.

We spent New Years at my brother and sister-in-law's house. They hosted a "Mad Men" themed party that served as a wonderful break from reality. Everyone dressed up in 1960's attire and Keith managed to forget his back pain for a few hours (martinis helped, too!). It was a great way to close out a long week and begin a new year. Although we've been faced with a few hurdles over the last couple of months, I know that we're stronger because of it and compared to some, we're still living the easy life. I'm interested to see what 2010 holds. This past year has delivered some surprises but overall I feel I've gained a lot more than I've lost, and I'm sure I'll say that again next year as long as I remember to look at the big picture.

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.