It always feels good for being recognized. Even if the recognition doesn’t come with dollar signs attached. I was nominated for the ‘Sisterhood of the World Blogger’s Award’ by the lovely Adele Archer. Thank you for recognizing my work and supporting me on my journey to becoming a published author, and an overall more successful person! I’m going to answer the mad-cap questions as set by Adele Archer. Then I’m going to ask 10 mad questions of my own and nominate three other bloggers who I admire. Picking only three bloggers is a not so easy task!
Now is the moment you have all been waiting for. As I search deep within myself to answer those questions set forth by Mrs. Archer… I would like to nominate: 1. Kellie-Ann Russell (a great blogger whose posts I can always be inspired by (yes, even the spider post!)), 2. Nikki DeMc (love the family movie reviews and the real life inspirational posts…and who doesn’t love purple!) and 3. DJ “The Trainman” Walker (a blogger who offers a little bit of everything on his site! Also, the first to give me a writing prompt for one of my #WritingWednesday when my brain wouldn’t co-operate!). This is what I would like to know about YOU: And for those that I didn’t nominate, because I can only pick 3, it would be awesome if you answered in the comments section below!
I hope you enjoyed learning a little more about me. As always, thank you for reading and your support. Feel free to leave a comment below or on my Google+ or my FaceBook.
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Honestly, I do not want to write this post. Writing this and SHARING it with all of my readers makes it real and I can’t go back. Once I put this out there, it is out there. In 2008, when I returned back to the workforce after having my fourth baby, I was at my biggest. For years I worked hard to get back my pre-baby body. My pre-baby body of four babies before. In 2012, I still had not reached that goal. I fought through depression with the realization…that pre-baby body was no longer mine to be had. I was a mother now and a mommy body is not only what I deserved, but what was rightfully mine. My body had been stretched to unimaginable proportions all for the status of “momma”. I should really embrace that. And so I did. My mindset was to be a sexy momma. My goals changed and I was feeling pretty good about myself. I was still eating well, or well enough, and I was still working out. I was rocking those HiiT workouts that found 20 some year olds struggling. At this point I probably was not getting smaller but I was definitely getting stronger. And my endurance was increasing. Growing up I had outright refused to run in gym class. I will never forget one conversation with my gym teacher. “What if someone held a gun to you and said run or I’ll shoot?” If only he could have seen me at my peak in 2012. I was almost doing the 9 minute mile. Running had become a part of my day, and the days that did not permit me to run were the days I was at my worst. I ran every week day at work and then followed it with a HiiT routine. I spent hours modifying my workouts and schedules and rotations of those workouts. On weekends I would do a mixed workout and have active play with my kids. And we walked everywhere (before we got our first vehicle in 2012). It took me five years to get here. But I forgot the most important part of it all. I still complained about how fat I was. How heavy I was. How I still gave in to my cravings. I forgot to look at how far I had come. How much weight I had lost overall, not just in the past month. How few and far between those cravings actually were. I forgot to look at the size of my clothes, which in fact, were the smallest I had ever worn since I had become an adult. I forgot to see how much longer I could play with the kids at the park. How I could keep pace when walking with my husband. I forgot to recognize that tummy as the honorable ownership of a mother. I earned my stripes and, unlike some women, I was happy to have those. But I forgot the stripes had to have a home. The tummy is where they belonged. And now I hang my head in shame. In despair. In 2014 I was in a major motor vehicle accident. I couldn’t look up or down or left or right. I would get dizzy spells that made me feel like my world was tilting or slanting. Then there were times when the dizzy spells would come without warning and I would simply fall over. I would wake in the middle of the night because I felt like I was falling through my bed. I couldn’t walk up or down stairs. I had to be very aware and proactive while driving; always getting in the lane I needed as soon as I could to minimize shoulder checking. Any jumping or running was a definite no go. Any sudden movements sent sharp pains through my head. My life had suddenly changed. My outlet for freedom, to de-stress, to feel good about me was taken away. My only comfort left to me was the one thing I needed to be cautious with. Food. At first I think I handled it well. But then, I noticed small changes. And with these changes, I needed more comfort. About eight months later I was cleared by my physician to get back to where I was. I wanted to scream at them. Did they realize it took me FIVE YEARS to get to where I was?! Hand me that tub of ice cream would you please. All I can do is sigh with a sad face as I put away my winter clothes and prepare for summer. There is nothing to pull out for summer. These clothes, they simply will not fit. And there is no amount of food that will make me feel better about that. In fact, food is the enemy. Today, I am at the biggest I have ever been in my life. But, I can’t get depressed about it. I will not let myself continue this vicious cycle of eating to help my sadness about my weight. That would be crazy. Instead, I will get angry and burn that negative by working out. So here I am. Back at the beginning. My supportive husband by my side telling me I CAN do this. I learned this week that I still can’t do any jumping or any cross body twisting (think roman twists or kettlebells), but low impact cardio and strength will do. So, I will do what I can and always challenge myself to do a little more. I am determined. My day started the same as every week day does. With my alarm rudely interrupting my sleep at 545 am. But after the 6 am reminder that I need to get up now, things changed for me today. Last night I made a conscious decision that I am done being unhappy about my figure and I am done with doing nothing about it. Being in a car accident limited me which depressed me. Looking in my closet as the clothes seemed to get smaller was also depressing. For a long time I gave in to that depression and openend up that bag of chips and shared the minimum amount so as to not call myself a piggy. When I was given approval from my physician to start with my workouts again, my symptoms returned and I stopped. I vowed to start slow. To focus on three things. More sleep. More water. And more movement. Well, that more, it is simply not enough. This morning, after fifteen minutes of pleading with the clock, I reluctantly rolled out of bed. I remembered the promise I had made to myself. As a blogger friend said, "Every day is the first day." And today was the first day of keeping my promises to me. This morning, I got my sweat on with Shelly Dose, who I stumbled upon on Google+. Check out her YouTube channel. A little while later, my daughter and I went to the library to return some books that were due. I swore that I took three steps to get up to the drop off box. But for some odd reason there were only two to come down. Even more odd was the fact that the pavement was marked for a step that was not there. My brain did not comprehend this and I took a step down only to find my footing off and my foot "stuck" to the pavement. Being my daughter, she laughed with me about my near fall all the way across the parking lot. She wished she had captured the moment on camera. It must have been a sight to see. Thankfully for me, we do not allow our children to have cell phones until a much later age. This afternoon we have a couple more appointments. Before which, I have promised my "curly hairs" that I would transfer them to match their "straight hair" siblings. I keep telling them how much I envy their curls. But they do not care. They want me to do their hair for them. How is your day going? What are your plans? A little taste of poetry from me.... Her name is Rachel. Just like me. She tries to talk to her mom. We’re in a loud gym. The mom says she can't hear her. Rachel repeats herself a little louder. But not too loud. It's private and there are lots of people here. No sooner does she start and the mom turns away from her. Rachel puts her feet on her chair, pulling her knees to her chest to hide her crying. But, I see it. Mom turns to whisper yell at her to put her feet down. With a little defiance she does as she's told. Mom doesn't acknowledge the tears still fresh on her cheeks. Again Rachel speaks. Again she is ignored. And again she raises her knees. Feet on the chair. When mom turns to whisper yell, the feet go down with a bang. Rachel tries to speak. Mom makes a face. Feet go up. More whisper yells. Another bang. Mom turns to dad to take Rachel out of the room The good husband obeys. Mom laughs about it to the friend. Dad returns with Rachel. Rachel hugs her mom and is told to have a seat. Tears run down Rachel’s cheeks. She no longer tries to hide them. Tapping moms arm to speak. Mom glances and turns away. Once. Twice. Third time she speaks. Rachel goes unheard. Just like me. I am fascinated by the moon. I'm not really sure why and I know I am not the only one. Perhaps it is the mystery that surrounds the moon that fascinates me so. Or maybe, the romance. Perhaps the stories of creatures that only come out during a full moon that piques my imagination. One thing I miss about my youth is sitting in the yard staring at the sky. The city has its advantages, but living out of the city and the light pollution, I am looking forward to better photo opportunities of the moon. And then of course, there is the sun. The sun that brightens every day, even if it has to fight with the clouds it still manages to give us "daylight". The sun that warms our faces, gives us hope of new life. Sun rise or sun set, both are equally beautiful.
Inspired by a dream I had... “I’m sorry Mr. and Mrs. Einner, but Sean needs one more procedure,” the doctor looks at us sternly, a look of sorrow and understanding of our emotional struggles. It is all we can do to nod our heads with acceptance. There really is nothing to be done about it. If it means a full recovery for our son, then we must be strong enough to help him through his pain. The curtain closes in front of us, blocking Sean from our view. Together we stand, hand in hand, facing that dreaded curtain, waiting for it to open. Afraid of what will be revealed when it does. What feels like hours go by and still we stand patiently waiting. “Sean will wake up in 15 minutes,” the doctor announces as he comes out from behind the curtain. James kisses me on the cheek before leaving with the doctor. I wait for them to leave before I go in. Sean is sitting, slouched over, in a sink with his legs crossed. The procedure they did was on his legs. Anger and confusion flood my mind. In a panic, I struggle to lift him out of the sink. What was the doctor thinking to place him cross-legged in a sink? I try desperately to wake up Sean. A lady comes in, her arms full of boxes. “James will be coming with the children soon,” out of breath, she puts down the boxes, “You will need to hurry to get them ready. There are heavy gowns, socks and slippers in here for them.” The urgency in her voice cannot be mistaken. I am confused. What children? When James comes in he is holding our younger son’s hand, Neil. There are about 10 other children behind them. Everyone crowds into the tiny room. I don’t know where these other children came from or who they belong to. I just know I need to move quickly and do as I am told. -------------------------------- I am standing on the side of a highway. The highway dips and turns. “Why in the world did you choose this place?” a woman says. She has a bad perm, lots of jewelry, and her face looks heavy with makeup. She reminds me of a woman from a television show in the eighties. “Because,” I answer, “you said we had to meet you at the roller coaster. There are no roller coasters around here, but this road,” I point out to the highway, “looks like one.” She shrugs her shoulders, “I guess it will have to do.” “It will. We must save the children.” “Very well. Good job. My driver will meet you back here in two hours.” “Thank you.” I nod. She turns her back to me to cross the road where a silver sedan awaits her. She climbs in the back and opens the window. “Don’t be late. You only get one chance.” I watch as the car quickly drives away. I turn around and find myself back in the hospital room. Sean is laying on a bed as James keeps peeking out the door. “Okay,” I say, “arrangements have been made. Let’s get ready.” I help each of the children get dressed. There are clothes for them to wear under the special gowns. It is cold outside and we have a bit of a walk ahead of us. The children are quiet and help me with putting on the clothes I hand them. “Sean, honey,” I smooth his hair, “it’s time to get up mister.” “Huh?” He is groggy and disoriented. “You need to wake up now. We need to get out of here.” “It’s clear,” James calls from the door. “They round every fifteen minutes. We don’t have much time.” I put on Sean’s clothes and put his arm around my shoulders. “I need you to help now.” “Okay,” he mumbles. As he stands, he stumbles. “My legs,” there is panic in his voice, “they aren’t working.” “It’s okay honey,” I try to soothe him, “they are still sleeping. I will help you. They’ll come back soon.” A tear rolls down his face and he nods. His brows furrow with fear. “It’s okay,” I say again to reassure him. “Come now. Together.” He holds me tight. His brother holds his other hand. James ushers us out the door. Each of the children pair up, holding hands and follow us out. James takes the rear. Half way to the roller coaster highway and Sean’s legs start working. The remainder of our journey goes much faster. We make it to the meeting point with 5 minutes to spare. The children are anxious and cold. We huddle together to keep warm as we wait. A yellow school bus appears right on schedule. James takes Sean and Neil onto the bus first and I usher the other children on. As the last child boards the bus, I grab the handle of the door to pull myself on. “You think it should be so easy?” a velvety voice sneers behind me. I let go of the handle and motion for the driver to close the doors as I slowly turn around to face the voice behind me. As I turn, I hear the doors close. I discreetly wave for the driver to go. “I tried not to think too much about how easy or how difficult it would be actually.” I say calmly, my heart pounding, threatening to give away my fear. I hear the wheels of the bus rolling away. Subtle sounds of crunching gravel. “I just thought about what needed to be done and did it.” I hear James and the boys screaming for me. A tear borders on the edge of my eye. I can’t let it escape. I need to hold her attention; otherwise she will stop the bus. Thankfully, she is so focused on me that she doesn’t hear the bus rolling away. “You know you can never escape me,” she says, a wicked grin on her face. “Perhaps not,” I admit, “but that won’t stop me from trying.” “You are wasting your time. You should just submit yourself to me.” “That, I will never do.” “Ah, but you should. Otherwise,” she moves closer to me, “you could just lose it all.” “Oh,” I say, defeated, “perhaps I just have.” “What?” she asks, confused. The bus is now gone. It went down the first crest and disappeared. I know that James, the boys and all the other children are now safe and far away from here. The woman shoves me but I stand my ground. She walks around me, searching the highway. “Where are they?” she screams from behind me. “Matters not where they are,” I say, “they are not yours.” I turn to face her. Her back is still turned to me. A voice in my head whispers, ‘Run!’ I run straight to her back, shoulder first, I knock her over. I don’t stop running. Her hand stretches out and I feel it grace my ankle, too slow to take hold. I run down the hill, my legs fighting to keep up with the momentum that carries me. A light shines in front of me and I run towards it. Through it. When I stop running I find myself all alone. There is no space that surrounds me. No darkness. No walls of a room. Simple nothingness. (c) Rachel Rennie 2015 If you would like to let me know what you thought of my little piece, please leave a comment below or on my Google+ or my FaceBook. Also, feel free to share it with anyone that might also enjoy it. Amongst moving comes purging and discovery.
Discovering what you really need and what you don’t. Discovering lost treasures packed away when I started to have babies and didn’t want them broken. Discovering that maybe, just maybe, I do not need to keep every piece of work my children have done at school, or all of the crafts they have done at home. One of the things I discovered is actually something that has been sitting in one of my kitchen cupboard for years. Twelve of them to be exact. The box is dusty and greyed, but inside sits six perfect crystal wine glasses. A wedding gift that my husband and I have never enjoyed. I have never been a wine drinker. I myself prefer a Corona with lime or a variety of other liquors. I decided now was the time to discover wine, and use those simple and beautiful wine glasses. With the expertise of my lovely husband, we picked out two bottles of wine. A Rose and a Merlot. These names really mean nothing to me! I started with the Rose. It was lightly fruity with very little bite. I found it refreshing actually. However, I think that for me, because I liked it better when it was cold, I should only pour a half glass at a time and refill. I decided to take a look at the website for the wine I chose, Naked Grape, to see what to drink with my new wines. I think I will have to try out some other wines this company has to offer! Feel free to leave a comment below or on my Google+ or my FaceBook and tell me, What is your drink of choice? And if you do enjoy wine, what is your favorite? As always, thank you for reading and your support. Let's just jump right in, shall we?!
A completely random thought on this Monday morning. I see people all around me walking with a cell phone in hand or to their ear. The only exception to this rule is my husband. He absolutely refuses to have a cell phone. I am no exception to this rule. I always have my cell phone with me. And I do mean always. But I still feel that there are some moments in our lives that deserve some privacy. More so, I feel that other people deserve privacy as well. This seems to be an art lost to many people. Just as I don't really care to share my phone conversations with the world, I really don't want to hear yours. Sadly, this is not the case for everyone. I had gone into the public washroom and sat down in a stall to take care of my business when another woman came in. As she sat in her own stall I could hear her talking in some other language. From another stall comes the shout of an angry woman. “Do you mind? I’m trying to take a f*ckin’ sh*t here!” I tried not to laugh. But I totally agreed. I hate being in a public washroom when there are other people in there, never mind people who are talking on their phones. When the woman continued to talk on her phone, the angry lady let loose. She held nothing back. The sound echoed through her little metal stall. That got the attention of the woman on the phone who spoke in her language in a hurried voice and from what I could tell, ended her call. I was filled with laughter that desperately wanted to escape and I wanted to escape the washroom in general. I quickly finished up and washed my hands. As soon as I was down the hall I let me laughter go. Good on you for saying what I am sure many of us want to say. Get off your damn phone. Congratulations for your openness and not minding to share that private moment with whoever you are speaking with, but perhaps the rest of us don’t want to share with you. Have a little respect. Usually I ask a question related to my post, but for today, no thank you! I do not want to know! Happy Monday everyone! |