When ‘point five’ matters

There are two occasions when that extra ‘half’, regardless of the measurement, matters – and gentleman no it’s not what your thinking.  Such times are:

1) When you’re not as tall as you’d like to be.  At five foot three and a half inches, not only does that extra half inch count but it’s actually very important

2) When you’re losing weight – particularly when you’re not tracking as you’d like. In other words ‘NOW’.

At this week’s weigh in I came in at 131.5 lbs.  If I was on track with the ‘one pound a week’ mantra I’ve been harping on about, I should be at 130lbs by now. Believe it or not I’m now six weeks into this challenge. Leaving just nine to go – and the small point of 6.5lbs.

But I’m actually quite pleased. The last three weeks have been manic and filled with illness. Plus I’ve taken on a new job, whilst still finishing up the current gig. This means that my easy 20 hour work week has morphed into a good 40+. The impact of this: less gym time.

In addition, there was a long weekend thrown into the mix. Ordinarily this wouldn’t make a huge difference. But for Memorial Day weekend we headed up to Lake Chelan with some great friends.  We actually managed to be quite constrained on the food front, if you exclude the three small pigs that Andrew ate almost single-handedly and the bucket full of doughnuts that we ploughed through. But doughnuts don’t count right?  The real issue was that we drank our body weight in cocktails.

Andrew very kindly saw a quick trip to liquor store as an opportunity to stock up on some essential supplies for his Bellevue-bound drinks cabinet – Baileys, vodka, tequila, margarita mix and tomato juice.  Needles to say I’m not sure any of the above made it past Stephen’s Pass. 

Tambo promptly found the blender and tequilas were served.  The tequila obviously needed to be washed down with some vodka and cranberry juice which obviously needed to be rounded off with some Baileys on ice.  It was fun, so much fun!  Thank you Egan for not taking your nap and therefore forcing Andrew out in the car in a vein attempt to get you to sleep and thank you to the ‘god of hangovers’ for being too busy elsewhere to not make it to Lake Chelan. Ladies and Gentleman, cocktails are the way forward for exhausted parents – we managed to stay up past midnight (a miracle with four children under five between the four of us) and we didn’t have hangovers.

But as we all know cocktails are not figure friendly – or at least when consumed in excessive quantities and particularly when not combined with a few extra workouts.  On jumping on the scale upon return, I actually showed a one pound weight gain, taking be back up to 134. I think it was faulty!  Needless to say to be at 131.5lbs today, I remain hopeful.

All the threes for (1)33

For those of you not familiar with the game, that’s a bingo call, along with ‘19 – Goodbye Teens’ and ‘26 –Pick and Mix’. I won’t bore you with any more. For those that are interested, you can find a full list on Bingo Lingo.  Go on I dare you!

Bingo calls aside, I did feel as if hit my own little jackpot this week when the scales showed yet another 1lb weight-loss. That makes it 3lbs in 3 weeks bringing me to 133 lbs.

It would seem that a) there really is a God or b) miracles do happen. Because if I’m honest with myself, I can’t truly attribute this 1lb loss to my own hard work.

I only made it to the gym three times, and even then for a short but sweet power workouts. And since Friday, I didn’t make it to the gym again until yesterday for the weekly weigh-in.  Ok, so 3 work outs a week is not bad I hear many of you say. And I agree: that I’m managing go get to the gym that often is somewhat of an achievement when combined with a full-time (ish!) job and 2 small children.

The problem lies not so much in the length and quality of these workouts but the gluttony that seems to be accompanying them. To say I’d been thriving on a diet of lettuce leaves and celery sticks over the last seven days would be a complete lie.  The weekend was a complete binge. On Friday night Ben and I had a chocolate covered raisin / Swedish Fish binge and on Sunday I found myself tucking into a burger (with cheese) and fries at the Keg, followed by a pack of Peanut M&Ms at the movies.  By the way, Bridesmaids is worth watching but you won’t lose anything by waiting for the DVD. 

All things considered, I truly was expecting no change at best, a weight gain at worst yesterday. Don’t get me wrong I’m delighted that this wasn’t the case.  The issue now is that I can feel myself getting complacent  and am already going back to bad eating habits - I’ve already eaten my body weight in very delicious-but-hardly healthy Farmhouse White bread.  How can something so good, be so bad?

Hence it is with good intentions that I shall shun the bad carbs and tasty treats and attempt to keep on track for next Wednesday. Wish me luck!

Two for Two? Who knows…

It’s Wednesday, or ‘weigh-day’ as far as I’m concerned. At least that’s the theory, but as we all know the reality is often very different.

And so it was this morning that when my alarm went off at 5am for my 5:30 RPM class, I promptly rolled over and went back to sleep. And as Jemima had a dentist appointment at 8am an uber-early morning session in the gym was my only chance to jump on the scales today. 

So I have no idea of the results of the last week as far as weight loss is concerned.  I’m not feeling particularly positive as although I’ve made it to the gym three times, two of those work outs were much shorter than I’d have liked. And it was a piggy weekend – Ben’s birthday and Mother’s Day both falling on Sunday didn’t do me any favors on the healthy eating front. Let’s just say there were cupcakes on Saturday and Lemon cake on Sunday. Yum!

That said, today I’m wearing my skinny jeans and for a few hours they were falling down.  It was only when I tightened the belt - to a notch that I’ve not seen a long while - did they stop falling down. Surely that’s a good sign?

I said right up front that weight-loss, or rather your body weight, whatever it may be, is more about how you feel and your dress size rather than purely numbers on a scale. So, that I’m feeling thinner and the clothes, today anyway, seem to be confirming it, I’m pretty positive. Which puts me in the right frame of mind to be continuing. Fingers crossed, here’s to another pound next week.

Wednesday Weigh-In: One Week in and One Pound Down

I used to quite like Wednesday’s. To me they’ve always represented the top of the hill. The hill being the working week.  Add to that, Wednesday is the one day of the week that I usually don’t have to get the kids up and off to school, instead opting for a shower in peace, even if it is at the gym and following a work-out.

Since I started my ‘11lbs in 15 weeks Challenge’ I’ve been dreading Wednesday’s – and there’s only been one of them!  Why?  Because Wednesday is weigh-in day. 

And last night I was dreading today even more. Since Billy is currently suffering from another virus-induced fever, daycare today was not on the cards for him today. Which meant I was running perilously close to missing my ‘weigh-in’ opportunity.   And perhaps this is testament to dedicated I am to this challenge, I opted to use it rather than lose it – even though ‘using it’ meant a 5:30am RPM class.

I can’t tell you how much I wanted to roll over and go back to sleep when the alarm went off at 5am. Particularly as Billy decided to wake at 4:10am and have a good long chat to himself before going back to sleep. [I truly love hearing him cooing away, but I really do wish it was at a more sociable hour.]  But I’m committed to this challenge so I dragged my weary butt to the gym for an hour of what I think could be classed as torture in some countries. 

It was with dread that I quickly hopped on the scales at the end of the class. But I’m pleased to say that it was all worth it. For once the scales tipped in my favour showing a 1lb weight-loss. Yipppeee.  

I actually made it to the gym 5 times this week which is twice more than I’m aiming for.  I haven’t exactly been starving myself either, but eating a little healthier and cutting out the snacks (unless you count Kettle Corn at the farm on Saturday). As a result I feel so much better. Generally I’m sleeping better, finding it easier to get up in the morning and overall feel a little trimmer already.   Admittedly, a one pound weight-loss isn’t exactly taking me down a dress size just yet, but it’s a step in the right direction.  Here’s to the next 14 lbs. 

 

 

I

11lbs in 15 weeks

Easter is over, the in-laws have returned to Australia which means it’s time to start the challenge.

Ok, it’s more of a personal goal (although I’m sure it will be challenging at many times) to lose 11lbs in 15 weeks. 

Why 11lbs?  It was originally 10lb as a nice round number, but I jumped on the scales today to find I was 136lbs.  125lb has a much better ring to it don’t you think?

Why 15 weeks? Because that’s when I’ll be in France in the sun and hopefully enjoying some quality poolside sunbathing  -  and the rate the Seattle spring is going, the next time I’ll get to see some sun. Don’t get me started on the weather.

I’ve got off to a good start. I haven’t had a latte in over a week and at 200 calories a pop that surely counts for something.  Today began with a 50 minute pre-work workout (cardio and abs) at the gym followed by a banana and raisin bran for breakfast and a light salad for lunch. Another workout is scheduled for tomorrow evening (cardio and upper body) and hopefully a third one will be squeezed in at the weekend.

I’ve never been one to regularly step on the scales. I’ve always judged my weight by how I’m feeling and how many wardrobe crisis I have in a week. However, at 136lb I am at the same weight as I was when 8 weeks pregnant with Billy.  Should I succeed in my goal to hit 125lb then it will be the lightest I’ve been for a long time – certainly since I hit the ‘wrong’ side of 30.

Hopefully next week’s weigh-in will at show some loss.  Wish me luck.

Top 5: Things I Hate

Admittedly, hate is a very strong word and probably a little too strong for most of what’s listed below. But here’s my long overdue sequel to Top 5: Things I love.

1. Fizzy drinks/Soda

As far as I’m concerned the only good Coke is a flat Coke and even then only when I’m pregnant or extremely hung over. And thanks to the successful outcome of the former (twice) I rarely get to experience the latter.  As far as I’m concerned Coke and all its fizzy friends have no nutritional content of value and very little hydrating ability.  But that isn’t why I’m including them on this list.  My gripe with them here is because they cause gas and I’m fed up with sitting in meetings with people who consume a drink at the beginning of the meeting, only to spend the next 30 minutes holding down a belch. Folks, just so you’re aware you can never conceal a burp, or hold it down for any length of time. If you’re going to be around other people, please avoid having fizzy drinks beforehand. Otherwise you just gross people out

2. 30 minute meetings

Little of any value can be achieved in 30 minutes. Invariably half of the attendees are 5 minutes late, you then spend a good couple of minutes chewing the fat and providing context to the meeting, leaving little more than 20 minutes to achieve your goal.  If you’re setting up a meeting, chances are it’s because you need a discussion around something and/or decisions made.  If there’s more than four people in the room this will never happen in 20 minutes as chances are the group will rat-hole on the first point of your agenda if you’re lucky, or a related but ‘not relevant for today’ topic if Lady Luck is not on your side.  The end result is you don’t have the decisions you need, a follow-up meeting is required – which will only be 30 minutes again because as a follow-up meeting folks won’t consider more time is required. And so you’re back to square one…

3. Disposable Cups

Or rather the lids. I’m as guilty as the next person at using a few of these each day as I buy coffee on my way to work and then have a handful of hot drinks throughout the day in the office.  The lids are great – and when used for drinking on the go serve a great purpose. But do we really need to put a lid on our cup for the short walk from the kitchen to our our desks/meeting room?  As adults aren’t we capable of carrying a hot beverage without spilling it?  Apparently not as we’re all guilty of the above.  And what’s more when was the last time you drank from a disposable coffee cup without a lid?  Try it – it feels wrong, almost as if something’s missing. It’s like we are slowly but surely losing confidence in our ability to drink from a wide rimmed vessel. I’m convinced, as a result, we’re breeding a generation of sippy cup drinkers.  I vow from now on to not put a lid on my drink unless I’m taking my cup of coffee in the car.   My challenge to you is to join me - think of the all the waste we’ll save.

4. Plastic knives and forks

In a campus that employs over 40,000 real cutlery is not plausible. I get that. But trying to eat anything other than overcooked pasta with a plastic fork is like trying to spear a fish with a soggy twig. It’s just never going to deliver a good end result. I can’t fix this problem but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy with the current state of affairs. If anyone knows anyone who is remotely connected to the disposable cutlery industry please encourage them to do a complete redesign to make more effective. 

5. Parking too close to your neighbor

Anyone who’s got children knows that trying to get an infant car seat into the back of the car can be a challenge, particularly once said infant grows beyond its newborn, light as a feather status.  When Jemima was small we were in the UK and public car parks invariably posed a problem as parking spaces are smaller and even when parked correctly they don’t always allow enough room to open a passenger door to its full extent. I loved Sainsbury’s when they introduced wider ‘Parent & Child’ spaces.  By the time we moved here she was out of an infant car seat and spaces are normally bigger so it was less of a problem. But since Billy was born, it seems the majority of spaces are marked as ‘Compact’ so slightly smaller – yet still perfectly big enough for my Honda CRV, and an infant car seat insertion procedure.  So all is good – unless the car that parks next to me is not a Ram 2500 four door truck.  Newsflash to the owner of such vehicles – THEY ARE NOT COMPACT! Last week I returned to my car at work to find a truck parked just four inches from my car.  There was not even enough room for me to get in the driver’s side. I had to go in the passenger side and climb over. Luckily I was child free so it was merely an annoyance. Had I had Billy with me I would have probably have had to seriously fight the urge to run my keys down the side of that truck.   People: be considerate, park in size appropriate spaces, park correctly and we should all be able to get in and out of our cars easily, with or without children.

 

I now declare today’s rant officially over. Thank you and goodnight!

My Top 5: Things I Love

Today I caught up with a great friend of mine, and as us moms do, we got talking about how little time we had. She mentioned that she wanted to blog, purely as an outlet for her creativity, but never found the time to sit down at her PC for long enough.

The conversation reminded me how much I like writing my blog, and how bad I am at finding 10 minutes here and there to write it. And like Claire, I blog because it gives me an outlet:- and outlet to vent and an outlet for creativity, or what little creativity I have.

Hence, I’m sitting down and blogging now. I’ve made myself fine the time. It’s Sunday night, kids are asleep, dinner is eaten and cleaned up, the ironing is done, bottles (Billy’s) and lunch (mine) is ready for tomorrow. And to put the icing on the cake, I had an idea of what to blog about. In fact I had two. 1: Things that bug me 2: Things that I love

Perhaps luckily for me and my (very few, if any) readers, but most definitely foolishly for me (if only because I’ll regret it in the MONDAY morning) I’ve had three (yes three glasses of wine).  Let’s just say I’m feeling more positive instead of negative.

So I’m blogging about things I love.  Friends, family and chocolate aside, here’s what’s at the top of my list today.

1) Shoes.  My most favorite pair ever is the ones I bought for my wedding. A pair of diamante sandles from Gina. By far and away the most expensive pair of shoes I’ve ever bought, but by far and away the most comfortable. They were last worn at by baby shower before Billy was born. I don’t get to wear them enough because they really are very sparkly. My promise to myself is to wear them on our next date night.  Also, I’ve been eyeing a pair of patent leather beige Ivanka Trump pumps (to my UK readers, think 3 inch heals rather than trainers). At less than $100 from Nordstrom I think I’ll be purchasing them soon.

2) Lipstick. But I don’t wear enough of it.  One of my New Year’s Resolution was to wear more lipstick. In the last 2+ months, I think I can count the times I’ve applied lipstick on one hand.  I don’t lead by example.  But lipstick can give you a whole new outlook on life, and make you appear polished when in reality you’ve simply pulled on little more glamorous than a pair of sweats, or tracky bums as we like to call them in the UK

3) Wine. No surprise here to anyone that knows me well. But my current favorite tipple is Alexandra Nicole’s Voigner. It’s a local Washington wine - which makes it even nicer. I’m about to invest in a case, or rather half a case as I’m hoping a friend is going to go halves with me (you know who you are if you’re reading this!).

4) Oatmeal & raisin cookies. Girl Scout Thin Mints aside, since moving to the US I’ve decided that this is really the only cookie worth the calories. Chocolate chip is too sweet. And what else is even worth considering.  But rather tragically, a bad oatmeal and raisin cookie can disappoint on so many levels. It’s a very fine line between nice and chewy and totally overcooked. Sadly, a line that when I bake them myself I always seem to cross. A good baker I am not.

5) Matching underwear.   Once I started earning my own money following university, and all the way through college and beyond, matching underwear, alongside shoes, was my thing.  Every day I’d ensure that my lacy bra co-ordinated with some delightfully frilly knickers. No matter how busy I was, or how behind on my laundry, my smalls were guaranteed to match.  And I’m not talking plain and simply white cotton undies here. I’m referring to colorful, lacy bras and thongs.  In fact at one time, they were so small and lacy I remember being mortified that my now father in-law, but then father of my new boyf, was in fact hanging them on the washing line.  Fast forward to two children later and quite frankly it’s a miracle I’m far enough ahead of the washing to ensure I have clean undies, let alone anything that falls the right side of the ‘uncomfortable but so worth it’ line.  I’ve sadly traded sexy g-strings for comfy boy pants. My promise to myself now I’m earning again: to go and buy at least 2 new sets of matching, gorgeous, perhaps slightly less than comfortable when crouching on the floor changing a diaper, sets of unmentionables.

 

I dedicate this post to Claire Forster. Without the conversation I had with her today, I wouldn’t be here writing this now.

The top five things that bug me will follow in due course. Thank you and good night.

The ‘exponential growth’ of a working mum

Since I first started blogging my life has changed considerably with wonderful happy safe arrival of Billy.  But perhaps most recently, its changed dramatically with me going back to work.

Now on Week 3 of full-time work I’ve started thinking about how I felt when I first went back to work having had Jemima. I’m going to spare you the ‘but I miss my baby’ emotions. They are a given, I’m a mum! Anyone who’s been there has experienced all those emotions by the bucket load.   Instead, this post is going to focus on the practicalities of fitting it all in.

When I first had Jemima and once she’d got past the early days when she slept for long stretches at a time, I remember thinking that I must have been kidding myself to think that my life was busy before she was born. It seemed so easy in comparison – get up, go to work, come home, cook or go out to dinner and go to bed.

Once I went back to work when she was 6 months old, I remember hitting a whole new level of busy-ness and genuinely thinking there truly weren’t enough hours in the day to do the above and somehow do it all while making sure she was healthy, happy and generally thriving within our family – and not at the expense of our own emotional and physical well-being.

Well, throwing in baby no. 2 but without work, kept things on a more or less par in the busy-ness stakes.  Billy replaced work and in many ways was far easier to manage than my clients and their associated demands.  I was on a level playing field and it felt good.

So, how can the simple act of returning to work throw things into such a spin? I actually don’t think the word ‘busy’ doesn’t describe it.  And today, I’ve had a couple of realizations which have shed some light on the matter.  Essentially, it all boils down to exponential growth. 

Hear me out here…

For the most part my adult life has consisted of building a career and a home. Sounds easy. But as we get older, and build our careers the career itself gets more demanding. As the careers get more demanding, they thankfully come with bigger (financial) rewards which in turn allows us to live in the bigger houses that we dream of.  And as well know, the bigger the house, the more it takes it to maintain it. As we have children, our laundry multiplies many-fold (saying two fold just because there are twice as many of us than there were without children just doesn’t cut it). As our family expands, we eat more, so need to cook more, so need to shop more, need to load/empty the dishwasher more. All of this takes longer. But does the day get longer in return? No that would be too simple.  If anything it gets shorter because, to a degree, most of what’s involved our days now has to be squeezed into children hours i.e. between the time they wake up until the time they go to bed.  We essentially have 12 hours between 7am and 7pm. 

Whereas in my pre-children days I could extend my day by either getting up earlier/going to bed later, if necessary finding an extra few hours within the day. After all, when you’re in your early-late twenties we can survive on less sleep and still function at maximum capacity. Sadly, at the old age of mid-30’s neither of these two is now an option – if only because we’re simply too exhausted as it is,the thought of cutting down on sleep quite frankly fills us with horror. As it is we’re surviving on about 7 hours a night.  

So, if my life was a business and I was the CEO, the only way to deal with this exponential growth is to increase the size of your team. And businesses have the luxury of shutting down for 2 days every week.  But if anything, my life is more frantic at weekends.  As anyone who has them knows, children don’t subscribe to the theory of vegging out on the sofa on Saturday and Sunday. Instead, for them weekends are an opportunity to do more fun things – soccer, swimming, baking, playing games etc etc.

So as working mum, my only option is to try to fit it all in by using the resources at my disposal more efficiently and having a water tight schedule that doesn’t really have any room for error.  To put all this into perspective on Saturday morning we crammed in Jemima’s soccer, a trip to the gym for both of us, took Jemima (and her bike) and Billy to the park, had a friend over for the afternoon and supper, plus general house chores. Sunday’s activities included going to church (more about this in a later post), taking Jemima to a birthday party, cleaning the inside of the car, fixing the garden gate, laundry, cooking, tidying, general house chores. 

So, as I put words on paper I’m reminded that my adult life hasn’t really changed in the last 10-15 years – I’m still trying to build a career and I’m still trying to run a house. The career has morphed over the years, the house and the children have grown. There are still only 24 hours in the day – but I now have fewer of them available to do most of the things I need to to. 

So, to sum up, the words might  have changed but I’m still singing the same song.  But do you know what – it’s my favourite song and I LOVE MY LIFE. My occasional complaints about it, just make it more fun and make me more human!

This post is dedicated to everyone who’s trying to do it all.

Seattle–3 years on

On 28th January 2008, a somewhat nervous family of three stepped off the plane to begin a new life in Seattle.

Fast forward three years, and we’re an incredibly happy family of four.

Although, we always knew a move over here was a distinct possibility with my husband working for Microsoft, for a long time it was just a theory. Then, one day in October 2007, that theory became very real and a whirlwind three months later, we’d seen the entire contents of our house bubble wrapped and loaded onto a container. Trust me, this is a very weird experience.

At the time, I hoped, but if I’m honest, didn’t believe we’d settle down as much as we have.  We’re so glad we were brave enough to begin a new life in a new country 4,000 miles away. We love it here. Yes, we miss friends and family back home, but we’ve made many life long friendships here too.

Now bear with me here, I’m going to make my very own ‘Gwyneth Paltrow Oscar’ speech.  I’m very appreciative of all our friends who have made our lives here such fun, but a few of you deserve a special mention. 

All my girlfriends, but in particular:-

• Heather Waller and Allison, who, it seems have spent the last year rescuing me and my family at times of great need. I hope for your sakes I won’t need to rescue you and/or yours, but please know I’ll always be happy to. After all, it takes a village to raise a family
• Jen – who I met the first week we arrived at a community center playgroup, and without who’s friendship the last 3 years would not have been anywhere near as much fun. And for always being the first to suggest we open a bottle.
• Claire – we’ve seen our daughters who are just 4 months apart blossom into lovely little girls. I look forward to seeing that continue, as we also watch our little boys grow up together. And also for make me see Satsumas in a whole new light on New Year’s Eve.

Dr Anton and Dr De Recht  – together you helped me through a hideous pregnancy and ensured a safe arrival of the most beautiful little boy in the world. 

Samara Wolcott and Christina Klein. Between the two of you, you’ve opened many doors for me professionally. And yet, Chris I can’t believe we’ve never met. We must change that.

Wendy & Ken – who’ve made us feel so welcome in the neighbourhood and finally broken the curse of horrible neighbours that has followed us around for so many years.

Mum and Dad (after all you can’t make an Oscar acceptance speech without mentioning them), Sue and Geoff, Jason & Emily and Bon and Si for their willingness to cross the various oceans of this World to see us on a regular basis. 

And finally thanks to everyone else. Our lives have been touched and enriched by so many people.  There are too many to mention, but you know who you are. Please continue to bring laughter, love and, of course, wine into our lives.

THANK YOU