Happy Birthday, Madeleine

Today Madeleine turns three and in exactly one week from today, I turn thirty-four. I don't know what's more shocking to me - my daughter's age or my age! These last three years have gone by exceptionally fast and slowly at the same time, if that's possible to understand. When I think of Madeleine as a newborn and those first few sleepless months, I feel like the memories are distant and hazy... probably because I wasn't fully awake for most of them. But then other things stand out vividly -- our daily long walks, her joy as she bounced in the jolly jumper, her downward dog yoga maneuver (which replaced crawling), her first steps at ten months. These all seem like yesterday to me. Turning three is significant in many ways. First of all, it marks her entry into childhood and out of "toddlerhood", if that's a word. This age brings increasing independence on a daily basis. I hear multiple times a day, "Mommy, I don't need your help" as she picks out her outfits, dresses herself, goes to the bathroom. This is liberating but also sad to me because I have to already start letting her go in some senses. She's so proud of herself when she puts her pants on forwards and her shoes on the right feet, and I'm proud of her too. There are many occasions when I want to jump in and help her, but I hold back because I know this is a small example of many more to come in life where I'll need to let her figure things out for herself. And she's already proving that she will.

Besides marking advancement in maturity, turning three also represents three years of my life as a mother. What a transition from my previous role! As much as you think you're prepared, you're never fully capable of anticipating all the joys and anxieties that come along with parenting. I don't think I'm the same person I was before having children. And, I'm proud to say, I think that's for the better. Three years ago, I put myself (and sometimes Keith) before everything else in life. I was selfish and self-absorbed -- but not in a conscious way. At that point I never had to think of anyone besides myself so I didn't know what selfless really meant. Since Madeleine's birth "I", in many ways, have been taken out of the equation. My world started to revolve around her on February 8, 2007 and today she continues to be at the center, but shares the position with her younger brother. I'm more balanced today then I was after her birth -- I've learned to take some time for myself and to appreciate Keith more (my poor husband was pushed inadvertently to the back-burner for awhile). I've also learned that life is too short to do things that don't make you happy. If it weren't for my children, I wouldn't be working as a personal trainer. I feel my time is most valuable when I with them, so if I choose to be somewhere else it better be beneficial. My little blossoming business is beneficial because it challenges me, inspires me, and brings me happiness. This in turn makes me a better mom, and reason enough to make time for it.

I look at Madeleine on this day and I see her sweet, innocent face, and how she can't even begin to imagine what's ahead of her. I feel excited (and a little jealous) that she still has the whole world to explore. As I quickly approach thirty-four, I remind myself that my days of exploring are far from over. I may not get to live in a dorm again, experience a first kiss, or feel the excitement as I see the Eiffel Tower for the first time, but I do get to see a new world through the eyes of my children and I still have years left (God willing) of parenting, working, and creating many more memories with Keith. My wish for Madeleine in this fourth year of life is that she continue discovering her countless abilities and that she remain healthy in body and mind. Happy birthday, sweet girl.

Family Matters

I feel so lucky to live in the same city as my family. My parents were just over taking care of the kids while I worked this morning, and I feel so fortunate that my children get to spend time with them. My grandparents live out of the country so I never had the opportunity to develop a close relationship with them when I was young. I wouldn't say that it impacted me greatly as a child, but as a mother I now see the unique relationship that exists between grandparents and their grandchildren, and I would hate for my kids to have missed out on that. Besides having their support as occasional babysitters (and I say occasional because my parents have extremely busy social lives), it's also nice getting their advice and being able to share the joys as well as the stresses of parenting with them. I'm also especially fortunate to have good friends, who I consider extended family, in the same phase of life as me. The weekends wouldn't be the same if we couldn't get our kids together in one loud, chaotic house, and enjoy a glass of wine while chatting in what's always interrupted, sporadic conversation. For me, it takes this type of support to be the best mother I can be. I need my girlfriends as sounding-boards and my parents as examples, to keep me sane and grounded.

Last week both of my children were very sick. I had to take Madeleine to the ER on Monday night for a fever that shot up to 104 degrees. She's fine now, thank goodness, but we had to spend the week in isolation because of bronchitis. As a working mother with only a few hours of help each week, I was reminded again of how much I depend on seeing family and friends to break up the days. When the kids are sick, that isn't an option so an already tiring day becomes much more exhausting (especially by 6pm!). Don't get me wrong - I relish staying home with my little ones, and I'm so grateful that I have the luxury of being with them most hours of the day (I schedule clients early mornings and weekends for that reason) - but I would be lying if I said I don't need an occasional break. Seeing my father for an hour or having a late-afternoon playdate with a girlfriend and her children provides this much needed release. And for that, both my children and I are better off. As Madeleine and Owen get older, I hope they recognize the importance of these relationships and how much they enrich our lives.

There are so many mothers out there that do everything on their own without the support network I have, and they do a fantastic job. I tip my hat to these superwomen. If I didn't have family and friends around, I'm dedicated enough and resourceful enough that I think I would still be a good parent, but I'm really glad I'm not in a position where I have to find out. For now, I'll keep calling my mom for advice and leaning on my girlfriends for reassurance. I know better than to look a gift-horse in the mouth.

Measuring Success

In life we're always looking for ways to measure our success - education level, job title, salary, size of our house, size of our car, size of our body. Many don't get caught up in the materialism, but it's hard to avoid the influence of our ever-growing superficial society. The enlightened among us know that success has multiple definitions and should be determined on an individual basis. But often times we feel we've failed because we're trying to fulfill someone else's definition of success.

As a trainer, I want nothing more than for my clients to be their healthiest. Weight is a tricky and sensitive subject and most of us feel we're not good enough unless the size we wear is something we can say out loud with pride. But each body is different and just as there are variations in the definition of success, there are variations in ideal weight; while one woman may be healthy at 120 lbs., another may be her healthiest at 140 lbs.; one man at 160 lbs., and another at 200 lbs.. I'm aware that our society is becoming more obese with each passing day. One out of three children now is considered overweight in the United States. This is an epidemic that needs to be addressed immediately. I'm not saying for a second that we should ignore the numbers on the scale, but I don't think it should be the only way one measures success. For those that are exercising and taking the steps to become healthier, the scale should be a secondary tool. Body chemistry, such as blood pressure, cholesterol, triglycerides, and resting heart rate are the true indicators of a healthy functioning body. But these are harder to monitor so, as a result, we revert to the scale as our primary barometer. I truly believe that hard work always pays off - whether in the struggle to become healthier or anything else in life. The intangible benefits of exercise like increased endurance and muscle mass, and less body fat are the true signs of progress when it comes to working out.

I guess what I'm really trying to say is that the scale has its place. I, personally, don't own one but I do weigh myself every 2-3 weeks when I'm at my parent's house and I think of it. I know that I, too, can let those numbers affect my mood but I always remind myself that the image I see in the mirror and the way my clothes fit are much better indicators of my true health. We all need to learn to love our bodies and if that means being our healthiest is at a number higher than our "ideal", then our ideals need to be adjusted.

I have a responsibility to constantly challenge my clients and make sure that I'm doing everything I can to push them, physically and mentally. I know through experience and education that there is no shortcut to losing weight -- the simple equation is this: input has to be less than output, period. All the diet fads in the world won't work if the body isn't receiving proper nutrition and exercise. If you're giving yourself that much, then do yourself a favor and bury the scale for the short-term.

Training Days

With the L.A. Marathon a little over two months away, training has become another part of my routine these days. I'm already wondering how I'll fill the time when the race is over. As much as I occasionally dread some of the workouts, overall I'd say I'm an enthusiastic runner and I do (strangely) look forward to the long runs. I'd be lying if I said I use that time to solve problems in my life -- I don't get too introspective when I run -- I just let thoughts enter and leave my head while enjoying the fresh air and the scenery around. Seeing a celebrity now and then also helps pass the time. I wish I could convince everyone to run a marathon once in their lives. I know many people, including my parents, brothers, and some friends, think driving 26.2 miles is tedious, nevermind running it, but unless you do it you can't understand the pull. I get excited about the little things like the sports expo the day before. There's an energy that looms in the atmosphere at these events, and everyone seems to be cheerful and lighthearted, despite the day-before jitters.

I just bought new shoes and socks, and I'm a little embarrassed to say, I took some time (and enjoyed) picking out what I think are just the right socks. I won't wear them until the day of the marathon. Based on this childlike zeal you'd think this is the first one I've run, but it isn't -- I've done the L.A. before and most of the other big city marathons in California. I still get giddy. I'm not saying that everyone who does a marathon feels the way I do, but I do think we all share an unspoken understanding and a mutual sense of respect for each other. This in itself is extremely uniting. The feeling at the starting line and again at the finishing line is like no other -- there's a buzz and such a sense of personal satisfaction and pride. And that's something we don't all experience very often. I wish I could bottle up those emotions and pass them out to everyone I know. Whether it's a marathon or a 5K, when we challenge ourselves we're reminded that we have control over our bodies and more so, our minds. A huge part of succeeding in any athletic competition is just getting ourselves to the starting line, and that's a mental decision. As a personal trainer, I'm encouraging my clients to pick races to run because first of all, I know they can do it and, second of all, I think it's great for their self-esteem. You won't want to quit exercising when you see the athlete in yourself - and there's an athlete in everyone. Maybe my sock fixation and the fact that I love the smell of my new running shoes is a little odd, but I have a feeling there's at least one other runner out there who knows what I'm talking about. See you at the starting line!

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.