Virtuous

Today I took a vitamin.

I cannot even begin to share my joy with you that I finally remembered to. I bought them about 2 weeks ago and they have been sitting forlornly on my counter, giving me puppy-dog eyes whenever I walked in and out of the kitchen.

This evening, as I walked through the kitchen for the millionth time, I finally decided to open the package.

Horse pills, oh glorious horse pills. These were some seriously big multi-vitamins. And a sort of concentrated urine colour too. Not the most appetizing of appearances.

I choked that mother down and am feeling quite virtuous. I am a healthy mo-fo. (Or at least taking some baby-steps in that direction).

In my quest for other things that are virtuous, I found a few…

This quite interesting blog about thrifty living. And some cute tricks for putting together inexpensive decorations for the house…

I also discovered this wonderful book. ‘Virtuous Vampire’? How intriguing! To quote one reviewer “I loved The Virtuous Vampire. The heat and attraction between Abbie and the Alpha Male Lucan was hot and sexy.”

Hot and sexy. And apparently virtuous as well.

The more I googled about virtuous, the more it became clear that swallowing that vitamin maybe didn’t bring me quite to the level of virtuosity as these other women I ran into while surfing. A lot of Christians. Not that that is a bad thing, I was just surprised by the amount of passion for virtuous living and God. And breastfeeding.

I probably am not as virtuous as all these people espousing their love for God, clean and proper living (and behavior)… and, of course, breastfeeding.

Apparently I am on a different ‘virtuous life-style’ path. It’s a ‘eat lots of citrus fruit, drink decaf tea, takes horse-pill-sized vitamins,  exercise almost, daily drink lots of water’ life path. With yoga. And no breastfeeding.

To each his own, eh? (that’s a bit of Canadian for ya’ll… and that’s a bit of the South too).

Off to finish my decaf and crawl into bed to virtuously write my Xmas cards…

xoxo a.m.

Rejuvenation

Sometimes it's easy to forget the better things in life...

AtlanticMama rejuvenation project is currently underway.

And I don’t mean just the blog, which is an ongoing work in progress. I am in the process of trying to breath some life back into my ‘life’.

Not that Life sucks right now, or anything like that. And certainly not that life with M is bad or I am not enjoying motherhood. But more of an ‘I am not happy with myself’ sort of thing. Funnily enough, it was about this same time last year, that I was struck with similar feelings. Except at that time, they manifested more as anxiety related-heart palpitation-ish-I think I’ll go to the ER because my heart is racing so much I think I am going to pass out and the way it’s beating is freaking me out.

One ER visit, one follow-up trip to my family doctor, several trips to a cardiologist, one stress test and some medication later, I felt somewhat normal. And rather freaked out. I know it was a combination post-pregnancy plus stress plus sleep-deprivation and I am sure there were a few more factors in there too (those damn socks of M’s). As much as I thought I was handling it, I think I was internalizing it a little too much and the end result was the ER.

For the last few weeks I’ve been feeling it building. Not so much the heart palpitations, but the feelings. The dissatisfaction. I felt like I was watching myself and disapproving of everything. My weak excuses for not hitting up the YMCA. I have a mandatory membership! I have no reason not to go. And this stupid holiday season with all of the yummy things. And my apparent complete lack of self-control when it comes to these delicious seasonal treats.

Lets just say this path felt familiar. And I am determined to not get too far down it again.

Hence my rejuvenation. My pulling things back in line. My focus. My dedication.

Saturday night I gave myself a facial. Holy crap did I need it. It was so relaxing for the 10 minutes that peel mask sat on my skin. And then I ruined the balance by having 2 more glasses of wine and staying up until 1 am. Who am I! Certainly not 25 years old again, living in Japan. What was I thinking. Clearly not anything about how V likes to get up super early. Parenting fail.

Sunday started off strong with a lovely walk in the park and then a trip to yoga. However, ruined again by the stuff-fest hosted by yours truly and staying up too late. And then arguing with M about nothing for a long period of time.

Balance fail.

Today was a better day, so based on that, it is the official start of my Rejuvenation.

No sweets all day. Check!

Healthy lunch. Check!

No caffeine. Check!

Adorably greeted by Little Man at daycare with a lovely picture he painted himself. Check!

Kickboxing class. Check and check!

Parenting and balance win!

Here is a really sweet (as in sensitive and delightful) website about yoga, pregnancy and healthy lifestyles.  All of those preg ladies out there, embrace the yoga. Your body will thank you.

(important health message for the masses. Check!)

xoxo a.m.

Yoga

Finally over my nasty cold, I headed back to the YMCA tonight with firm intentions to become a regular. All of this is part of my plan of  ‘Atlantic rejuvenation’.

Mumma needs a boost, a jolt, a kick in the ass. Something to shake up my life, push me over the edge a bit. As if my husband doesn’t push me over the edge enough…those damn socks of his (I found one in the street this evening), and 2 litres of gravy?! Well, I won’t get into further details about THAT. Let’s just say its 5 days later and is still residing in my fridge. Feeling a little frightened about what it has become. 3 days ago, the last time I lifted the wrap and scooped some out, it was jello-like. Lord know where we are now…

I digress.

Yoga tonight was different than yoga previously. There is no Bikram over on this side of town, its just plain ol’ regular yoga. Something I haven’t done since around 2005. With my Mum. In Canada.

The class was low-lit, candles on the floor, kinda romantic and relaxing. With ‘hippie’ music playing (that’s what M calls it). There was no sweating. There was no barked orders and sharp clapping to signify position change. And also , she didn’t talk that much.

It was an adjustment for me. I guess I had become used to my Bikram instructors and their style of class. This new gentle style was certainly different.

I enjoyed it though and I feel so long and tall. And my back feels supple and relaxed.

Now that I have broken the ice with the Y, spinning class will be next. Never done it, but walked past a class this evening and was entranced by the sweating and barked orders. Um, clearly I need to be shouted at and to sweat my face off.

Care to hazard a guess about what this says about me? Need to be in a controlled environment. The only thing that would make it better would be for the class to come with a handbook and maybe some tedious paperwork to fill out.

Then I’d be in heaven.

Yogic thoughts

Things I was pondering during class yesterday evening…..

During Dandayamana Bibhaktpada Janushirasana, or ‘Standing separate leg head to knee pose’, while I was staring down the front of my tank-top, I thought about a few things.

1) I need a new sports bra

2) I definitely have a bigger ‘rack’ since V came along, which is probably why I need a new sports bra…

During Dandayamana Bibhaktpada Pashimottanasana or ‘standing separate leg stretching pose’ I thought about a few others.

Primarily about how I missed Spandex-Man. And also why that girl behind me thought it would be a good idea to wear light green spandexy pants with black panties. I mean really….. sweat+light colour pants= see-through

While I was trying to not fall over during Dandayamana Dhanurasana or ‘Standing bow pulling pose’, I thought that I might just hate the two girls on the other side of the room who did the pose effortlessly. And didn’t fall over even once. And then gracefully lowered their legs in unison….. *sigh* one day… Then I thought that hate was probably not something one should be dwelling on during yoga…. Probably I should be focusing on my pose. Which makes me fall over. And then I curse under my breath. Also not good during yoga class….

While I struggled to get my leg into a proper 45 degree angle during Trikanasana or ‘triangle pose’, I mentally cursed my instructor for singling out my friend and I and making us examples. As we finally got our legs in a position that he was pleased with, I felt my foot slowly loosing its grip on the carpet and slowly sliding backwards…. which brought my leg, knee and groin waaaaaay closer to the floor than I would have liked. I didn’t really want to re-learn how to do the splits in one evening. Damn that instructor! Damn him!

It had been 2 and a half weeks since I made it to a class, what with being on holiday in Canada and all. And I really felt it. While I only go once a week (as its all the time I can carve out), that once a week keeps me a sane, flexible person. I didn’t realize that it had made that much of an impact on my life until I took a wee hiatus…

Thank goodness it’s back in my life….

Yoga-a-go-go

Post-yoga thoughts…

Tonight I was feeling very contemplative tonight while I was twisting and sweating. And focused. As I was focusing on myself in the mirror I discovered something about myself… I learned something new about my own body while I was contorting, dripping, flexing and holding my position in the mirror.

I have really small forearms. Seriously short ones.

I am practically T-Rex.

Is that normal?

So off I went to Google to find out….

I either have a form of dwarfism… which I am pretty sure is not true.

Or  I am a teenage body-builder… this is a possibility… I might be either ‘Charliesaurus’ OR ‘teen_muscle3’.

OR I am actually a T-Rex.

Not sure. Must contemplate at next yoga class…..

Yoga-a-go-go

Post-class I am whipped. Beat into a pulp. A big ol’ mess, to get all ‘Southern’ on you and stuff.

Tonight we tried a new place (mainly because they have a coupon, and coupons are good). It was in an old building near downtown, bit of a different vibe. Ramshackle building, loads of little skinny people (which I am blaming on its position to the downtown core) and a door on the women’s toilet that I swear was made completely out of Styrofoam painted brown. For reals.

Holy did we ever sweat. It was brutal.

The room was so crowded I couldn’t even see myself in the mirror. I also couldn’t see myself because there was a very tall man in front of me. And funny as we were asked repeatedly to focus on ourselves in-front of the mirror, and I couldn’t as, well, he was RIGHT THERE.

I focused a lot on his sweaty back though….. he has a mole just below his left shoulder-blade. And nice shoulders.

Anyways, bikram was hard-core and I was beaten down man. Beaten down.

Dizzy and exhausted I left the studio, chatting with J and C about how darn hot it was (at least 10 degrees hotter than our other place. Swear.). I threw my damp yoga gear into the back seat, balanced my water bottle on the roof and loaded everything else into the front. I climbed in and took off.

I drove about 50 feet and heard an awful clanking noise. Totally thought it was my car, as we have innumerable issues with it. I kept going and the noise stopped. Glancing in my rear-view mirror I saw something blue on the wet road.

Oh crap! It’s my water bottle!! My $25 water bottle that I got a huge lecture about buying! The water bottle that C teases me about every time I see her. You know, THAT water bottle.

I quickly called her, thankfully she was just behind me (and South St is a one-way street AND wasn’t that busy). She swooped in behind my car and practically leaned out of hers and one-armed it out of the street and into her sporty little SmartCar.

Oh, and then she laughed at me. A lot.

And, I imagine, will never let me forget it. Sigh.

Jaime 4 – Yoga 3

Post Tuesday night yoga….

I got 4 compliments on my technique/pose from my instructor tonight. 4. Which made me feel so good (I told M after class and we totally did an awesome fist-pump dance in celebration. Ok. It was just me, he watched.).

“Awesome form”.

How about that. 2 months at yoga class and I am finally getting the hang of it. W hat I am not getting the hang of is my balance. I think it’s genetic. For the life of me I can’t balance on one leg, I just fall over. But with ‘awesome form’ in mind, I will hopefully improve.

Other bikram yoga thoughts…..

Sadly Spandex-man was not there tonight. However, his friends Mr Short-shorts and Well-defined Abs-man were there tonight and the 2 of them just might take his place.

The girl next to me was this fragile-looking, tiny Asian girl, who was delicately covered in sweat droplets like a little bird had shaken its damp wings on her back. She made sweating look adorable. I glanced up at my red, shiney face. Oh well, who says it’s about looks anyways, eh?

Internal Hotness

My weekly yoga class was tonight, and you know how much I like to share my post-sweaty class thoughts with you.

Tonight the room was extra hot. I didn’t realize this until I glanced at one of the guys in front of me, and noticed that sweat was dripping off of him onto his towel like he had a leaky faucet built into his hip. It was dripping at a steady rate off the corner of his shorts.

Sweat was rolling off of my elbows, my fingers and sliding down my calves at an enormous rate. At one point, it was slowly running from the corners of my eyes and down onto my cheeks. I imagined (while those sweat droplets hung out on my cheekbones) that I was in prison and I had little tattoo tears dripping out of the corner of my eye.

Just trying to illustrate how hard-core I am about yoga (and hoping  you will ignore the fact that I have only been going for a month and a half).

It was awesome.

Sadly though, Spandex man was not there. Actually I haven’t seen him in about 2 weeks. He might have fallen out of love with Bikram. OR he ran out of spandex pants. OR he is actually wearing something else to class and I don’t recognize him because I can no longer see his package in complete and total detail. Probably the last one, eh?

Anyways, the room was so hot that apparently my internal temperature will be higher tomorrow as a result.

Crazy yoga people. I love them all…..

Yoga-a-go-go

My mind is blank after yoga.

Bendy and foldy.

Thirsty.

Spandex-man was not there. I feel disappointed.

Tired.

Bed.

West Coast love

I feel like I have been slightly neglectful of writing this week.

Now that I have a few moments to myself, my thoughts feel a little overwhelmed. So many things fighting to get out, I just know nothing is going to be coherent at all. But perhaps that is just all the time anyways…. My brain tends to run ahead of my mouth, and I assume that everyone is on the same wavelength as me and is following along.

My new interest in Bikram yoga is straightening my spine and filling my mind with healthy thoughts. My muscles ache, but I feel tall. And strong. And clean.

It’s a West Coast sort of feeling. A nice granola-y, wheat grass drinking, portabello mushroom burger-eating, organic cotton-wearing, Patchouli smelling, soy bean, miso soup, vegan soap-using feeling.

I think part of it has to do with my cousin moving to Central Florida. Funnily enough, who would have thought out of the 4 cousins the 2 of us would end up living in Florida when we were adults. I think it’s the most bizarre of coincidences. But then, since considering our family, I wonder why I am surprised. But I think it is a fantastic thing.

Cousin dear and I are at opposite sides of the cousin age group. I am the oldest and she is the youngest. Somehow though, we have a ridiculous amount in common. Of course it’s family bond and all that, but more as well. And I am so happy that she moved from the East coast.

And so happy that she let me drag her to Bikram. Where she sweated, cursed me and denounced our bloodline. I know she still loves me. And I hope she knows how much I love her and am glad that she is here and part of my life. Love you Cuz. Not like this…. I just love you…