The last blog post I made was in May...Lincoln's 1st birthday. Sometime while becoming enraptured in the tornado of a website called Pinterest I read about this brilliant idea to create emails for each of the kids, write you every so often, then give you the passwords when you're 18. Part of me wonders if we'll even still have email when you're 18 but most importantly, where ever I write you, I want you to get to see it. Since then, I've been sending you emails to talonzook@gmail.com and lincolnzook2013@gmail.com After this entry, I'll turn this into a book just like Talon's blog then create a new blog for happenings from there on out. Talon's blog from create from pre-conception to his 1st birthday.
It's Christmas time. Today is Christmas Eve. I've spent the past few days grocery shopping, running errands, cooking, baking, cleaning up, doing laundry, changing sheets, putting clothes away, wrapping presents and dropping off our turkey to a friend to smoke. You guys and your dad have been playing with Legos. ALL day. It's nice because you satellite him, parallel playing a bit then interacting with him as well. He's teaching you, Talon, how to build which is fabulous from a developmental standpoint. Legos work on hand-eye coordination, imagination and foresight. It's a pastime that will carry on for generations as long as Legos are around. Being home around you guys I wish there was something like that I could do with you but I end up taking care of everything else that comes along with preparing for Christmas. I *may* have been drinking Coke and amaretto while writing this post...*maybe*..um, yes.
I feel like I'm getting a writing voice back. For a while since becoming a mom, we (mothers) tend to lose sight of who we were for a while. You are in charge of taking care of a tiny human that depends on you for everything. Needless to say, it can be exhausting. Becoming a mother rearranges your molecules. You're just never the same but in every possibly good way. It only becomes bad when you forget or push aside who you were (assuming you liked that person pre-babies) and completely immerse yourself into only being a mother. You're so-and-so's mom. That's it. No other introduction. Booooor-ing.
I do my best to keep up with the changes. I am a good mom. That's a tough sentence to write. It shouldn't be but it is. As Amy Poehler says, sometimes my demon creeps up and tells me toxic things. Things I should do differently, things I should say differently, things I'm not handling very well. I love you both to "infinity and beyond" which is something I've started to say to you often. Talon is even saying back to me which is breathtaking. As NPR says, if you're wondering if you're a good parent, you probably have nothing to worry about. Whew.
Talon, you are fiercely independent yet so yearning for our attention. Who DOESN'T like attention?! We're all human and we all need it. You are dynamic and loud and observant all at the same time. You are compliant at school and see no need (as the teachers say) to follow anyone's lead but your own. You have tenacity and determination. Your attention span during Lego time is impressive. On the flip side, if you don't want to do something, that's it. No manhandling or questions about it. Whoever is trying to reason with you is just going to have to wait until you're able to breathe again. You are so much like me especially as a little kid. I want you to be you but I see similarities in us. It's a given; you're part Vaughan. You're 3; you want a voice but you want help. You say you can't do it then we insist and you're so proud. You scream and stomp your feet and run when you don't get what you want. We let you work it out while you process. Last night, Lincoln got a Rescue Bots Boulder triceratops. You got some Duplos. You decided Lincoln's toy was better and desperately wanted it. First time Lincoln wouldn't share (and we didn't force him) and you could stop talking about it. It was a big moment for you. And for us! It was hard to watch you get so upset but we knew it was a necessary moment in your journey to greater patience. Everyone made it with all fingers and toes and dignity in tact.
Lincoln, you at 19 months right, we're still getting to know you. You are mostly sharing with Talon when he takes/asks for toys from you but sometimes you use that voice to growl and those little sculpted arms to hit. Your vocabulary is quite limited right now but you can sign "more" "milk" "no" "yes". You can say, "Mama" "me" "read" "get down" "hi" "bye". Little as you are, you are just as fierce as your brother. I realize I often sometimes want to step in a lot to help you because I am also the 2nd child in a family. I don't want you to get bulldozed or bullied just because you're the youngest or the smallest right now. But, you're impressive. You use your growling and body to express how angry you are though that will change as you add words to your vocabulary. I admit part of my worry as a mother comes when the two of you are duking it out. You're squealing, Talon is yelling and I am trying to make it fair. Truth is, I need to let you guys duke it out a little longer sometimes. There will be a time when you're just as big and just as verbal as Talon. You'll be able to handle your own quite well. In the meantime, I'll continue to step in in the appropriate times to help you guys learn skills to mediate conflict by yourselves.
Jason and I are sure we're done having kids. We're done with sleepless nights and automatic pilot mode you end up turning on at some point when you have babies. Also known as survival mode. You're enjoying it but also just trying to get to the point when the kids are a little more independent. I like my time but I also love being with you. I think about you when I'm away from you. As for going back to work, teaching fitness is a passion of mine but also works perfectly with our schedule. I teach 4 classes a week in the morning and 1 at night when Dad is home to watch you. I also do some small group personal training. For me, going back to work full-time didn't make financial sense. As a personal trainer, I didn't make enough to justify spending $1800 a month in full-time child care. $1800 a month was sometimes my entire monthly salary. Why would we break even to keep you guys in daycare?! We're in debt, yes. We'll figure it out. I get to stay home with you, make some part-time money to supplement our income. I think at this point we're both starting to emerge from automatic pilot (not totally...it'll be a LONG time before we're totally out). One thing Jason and I could do better is spend time alone together. We go out (with friends) but we end up splitting up. You are being watched by one parent while the other one goes out.
Most importantly, you are loved. You are SO MUCH loved. We'll never leave you. We're always here for you in one capacity or another. I love you to infinity and beyond!!
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Words and randoms
Lincoln, on May 1st, Dad saw you sign and say, "All done." Your first words and baby sign. I got to see it a couple days later. 11 months old and already talking. We're proud and know you're smart! You're not walking yet, but soon we think! You crawl on your hands and feet; fast as a little monkey. You also do the same crawl that Talon did with one foot and one knee.
Talon: Words: Kodat- chocolate. Micker- Mixer. "That's on the side of my face!"
You picked out Dora underwear at Target today. I love that you are unjaded by society's norm and what's acceptable. Do your own thing, Kid. Keep doing your own thing. Link, you too! We love you guys SOOO MUCH!
Love hearing and watching the two of you play. You were made for each other and can't wait to watch you grow more!
Talon: Words: Kodat- chocolate. Micker- Mixer. "That's on the side of my face!"
You picked out Dora underwear at Target today. I love that you are unjaded by society's norm and what's acceptable. Do your own thing, Kid. Keep doing your own thing. Link, you too! We love you guys SOOO MUCH!
Love hearing and watching the two of you play. You were made for each other and can't wait to watch you grow more!
These are the days. Are they?
There is nothing glamorous about this time. It is, without a hesitation, the absolutely most difficult thus far. It bends every bit of my being; emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Two children, 22 months apart, both in diapers, both in high demand and need. One having age-appropriate toddler tantrums, one a baby. I'm sitting here writing while Lincoln cries in his crib. I need a break. You're sick, little one, go to sleep. You're not hungry, you're not cold, you're not poopy. Go. To. Sleep. Talon just opened his bedroom door. Written in March (?)
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Lincoln crawl
Well, Squirt, you have the same crawl that Talon did; one knee, one foot and it's freakin' adorable. I can't stand it. You pulled to standing on one knee this morning. You crawling out of the room right now...better go see where you're off to!
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Your birth day story
My sweet pea, Lincoln,
I should have written this months upon months ago. I should have written this within the week you came home!
You, like your brother, was born via cesarean section. Unlike your brother, yours was planned. Talon ended up being born through emergency c-section after many long hours of waiting.
The preparation for you began in the evening on May 22, 2013. My birthday. Gremily was here visiting specifically for your arrival. We had dinner and birthday cake. I had to not eat after 11pm to be ready for early morning surgery. Your dad and I woke up really early the morning of May 23, 2013 and said to one another, "Let's go have a baby!" I had to be at the hospital around 5am for 7:30am surgery. We packed up our stuff and drove in the dark early hours.
We checked in, the nurses set up my IV, I filled out paperwork and then we waited for everyone to be ready. Our OBGYN, Amy Johnson, and the anthesiologist came to the room around 7:15am. Everyone was ready! I started singing a silly song as they pushed me down the hallway in the bed to the OR. I wanted to let everyone know I was feeling good and wanted them to feel good too. They were about to cut me open to pull you out. All involved must be happy!
I was nervous about the spinal and certain I was going to be nauseous. The anthesiologist did my spinal and was very attentive, telling me to let him know if I was going to be sick and he'd adjust my medicine. I got sick within minutes of the anthesthia hitting me. The worst part was my stomach was empty so I just kept dry heaving stomach acid. Your birth went swimmingly. I was prepared this time for what would happen afterwards. They'd sew me up, wheel me into recovery, wash you, check your toes and eyes and everything in between then give you back to me as soon as they could so I could feed you. Daddy brought you to me after they pulled you out. You were screaming! :) I bet you were cold and wondering what the heck??!!
As soon as you were okay and I was okay, they wheeled me back into my room where we would stay for the next three days. The worst part about the rest of your birthday was I was sooooo sick from the anesthesia. It took abut 10 hours for it to wear off. I remember barely sitting up to feed you, to hold you, to sleep with you. I couldn't sit up too far or I'd vomit. I bet I vomited 18 or 20 times that day. Horrible. I tried to eat but I couldn't keep anything down. The nurses gave me painkillers every four hours for the incision which knocked me out. I was out of it most of the day. We had fantastic nurses. I called them my second moms. Such wonderful people and so caring! Two nurses tried to help me up to the bathroom but I was going to get sick again. We all wanted me to walk around as soon as possible to aid in recovery. Movement promotes blood flow which helps healing!
You were eating well but as soon as you ate all the colostrum I had, you started to get mad because you wanted more. You'd latch on, get nothing, tear away and cry. Because of the c section, my milk hadn't come in yet. It'd be another 3 days before it did. I exclusively breastfed you until 6 weeks; you got way more breast milk than Talon ever got. There was a two week period in there when you didn't gain any weight and Dr. Heinrichs said I needed to give you formula. You were already dropping off the weight charts in the wrong direction. I couldn't bear the thought of you being in danger because I was too selfish to not give you formula.
You were born on Thursday, May 23, 2013 at 7:43 am. You were 7 lbs 8 ounces, 20 1/2" long. You looked like baby monkey with a whispy layer of dark hair all over you. You lost that within a week or so.
You, me, and Daddy spent four days in the hospital together. We enjoyed the time alone with you before it got crazy at home. Grandma Kim and Gremily had come to stay with Talon while we stayed with you. They all came to visit in the hospital though the first day I was too out of it to converse.
We brought you home on the following Sunday. Daddy went to Boulder get the breast pump. I remember crying when Dad had to start working in the garage for camps. I was overwhelmed and felt like I had to take care of everyone. We worked it out but those first few months were tough.
I wouldn't change a thing though. Your birth went smoothly and safely. We brought home our little Lincoln whom we love and cherish. I love you and Talon with the same amount of ferociousness!
Love, Momma
I should have written this months upon months ago. I should have written this within the week you came home!
You, like your brother, was born via cesarean section. Unlike your brother, yours was planned. Talon ended up being born through emergency c-section after many long hours of waiting.
The preparation for you began in the evening on May 22, 2013. My birthday. Gremily was here visiting specifically for your arrival. We had dinner and birthday cake. I had to not eat after 11pm to be ready for early morning surgery. Your dad and I woke up really early the morning of May 23, 2013 and said to one another, "Let's go have a baby!" I had to be at the hospital around 5am for 7:30am surgery. We packed up our stuff and drove in the dark early hours.
We checked in, the nurses set up my IV, I filled out paperwork and then we waited for everyone to be ready. Our OBGYN, Amy Johnson, and the anthesiologist came to the room around 7:15am. Everyone was ready! I started singing a silly song as they pushed me down the hallway in the bed to the OR. I wanted to let everyone know I was feeling good and wanted them to feel good too. They were about to cut me open to pull you out. All involved must be happy!
I was nervous about the spinal and certain I was going to be nauseous. The anthesiologist did my spinal and was very attentive, telling me to let him know if I was going to be sick and he'd adjust my medicine. I got sick within minutes of the anthesthia hitting me. The worst part was my stomach was empty so I just kept dry heaving stomach acid. Your birth went swimmingly. I was prepared this time for what would happen afterwards. They'd sew me up, wheel me into recovery, wash you, check your toes and eyes and everything in between then give you back to me as soon as they could so I could feed you. Daddy brought you to me after they pulled you out. You were screaming! :) I bet you were cold and wondering what the heck??!!
As soon as you were okay and I was okay, they wheeled me back into my room where we would stay for the next three days. The worst part about the rest of your birthday was I was sooooo sick from the anesthesia. It took abut 10 hours for it to wear off. I remember barely sitting up to feed you, to hold you, to sleep with you. I couldn't sit up too far or I'd vomit. I bet I vomited 18 or 20 times that day. Horrible. I tried to eat but I couldn't keep anything down. The nurses gave me painkillers every four hours for the incision which knocked me out. I was out of it most of the day. We had fantastic nurses. I called them my second moms. Such wonderful people and so caring! Two nurses tried to help me up to the bathroom but I was going to get sick again. We all wanted me to walk around as soon as possible to aid in recovery. Movement promotes blood flow which helps healing!
You were eating well but as soon as you ate all the colostrum I had, you started to get mad because you wanted more. You'd latch on, get nothing, tear away and cry. Because of the c section, my milk hadn't come in yet. It'd be another 3 days before it did. I exclusively breastfed you until 6 weeks; you got way more breast milk than Talon ever got. There was a two week period in there when you didn't gain any weight and Dr. Heinrichs said I needed to give you formula. You were already dropping off the weight charts in the wrong direction. I couldn't bear the thought of you being in danger because I was too selfish to not give you formula.
You were born on Thursday, May 23, 2013 at 7:43 am. You were 7 lbs 8 ounces, 20 1/2" long. You looked like baby monkey with a whispy layer of dark hair all over you. You lost that within a week or so.
You, me, and Daddy spent four days in the hospital together. We enjoyed the time alone with you before it got crazy at home. Grandma Kim and Gremily had come to stay with Talon while we stayed with you. They all came to visit in the hospital though the first day I was too out of it to converse.
We brought you home on the following Sunday. Daddy went to Boulder get the breast pump. I remember crying when Dad had to start working in the garage for camps. I was overwhelmed and felt like I had to take care of everyone. We worked it out but those first few months were tough.
I wouldn't change a thing though. Your birth went smoothly and safely. We brought home our little Lincoln whom we love and cherish. I love you and Talon with the same amount of ferociousness!
Love, Momma
For the boys from their Mama
Dear Talon and Lincoln, loves of my life...
As much as we don't want to think of this ever happening, there could be a day when I'm not here. It could happen too soon so I'm writing to give you as much of myself as I can with mere words.
You are both dearly loved and wanted. Your dad and I waited years (yes, years) for you. Talon's book explains the journey and raw detail, which also includes a letter which is for you both. I was born Sarah Beth Vaughan but when I married your dad I became Sarah Vaughan Zook. My nickname growing up was Cheese, given to me by the neighbor boys and your aunt, Elisa. What can I say? It's true. I like cheese. A lot.
As much as I advocate for communication, it's still hard. Do it as much as you can though. I prefer cool weather to hot weather. I wear a lot of tank tops. I like muscles and untraditional things. When I met your dad, I felt more like a boy than a girl...whatever the fuck that means. I cuss a lot. Over time, I've come into my own but I still fight hard to sticking to my gut of what feels natural to me. Sometimes I can get caught up in shit around me and lose sight. I used to not enjoy going to the beach but now that I'm older, I do. I was never a fan of swim suits but the older I got the more comfortable in my body I became and don't mind.
I love breakfast and sushi but not sushi for breakfast. I like most anything not mainstream then decide later. Remind your dad to show you picture of me with all colors of hair. Make him take you to Hawaii someday. I never went...yet.
You both got kissed pretty much every time I picked you up. I'd stare at you for a few seconds before I'd pull you into my chest and couldn't believe you're mine or how ridiculously cute you both are. I'd worry you won't know your cousins or grandparents very well. I think about what our next house will be and where it will be. I wonder what you'll want to go, where you'll go, who you'll be, and hope we're fiercely close no matter where on the map we are. I want to raise boys who are confident, passionate, full of love and ambition. Too many get raised that way because they aren't taught the differences in their own ego. I plan on teaching you to punch because everyone needs to know how to punch. I want to you never be afraid to dance because dancing fucking rocks and everyone loves a handsome man who can dance. Plus it'll make you feel good. Sing if you feel like it. Sing if you want to.
I can't stand too much *stuff* and dislike uncleanliness. It's cathartic to purge crap you're not using. I love shopping; Adidas shoes, dresses, tailored men's trousers, vests and shirts, makeup, baggy pants, tank tops.
Your dad is intensely, insanely creative. Play. Dream. Create with him.
Don't trust someone too much who doesn't have some kind of grammar ability; writing and speaking. It speaks volumes.
Be authentic. This is a process that has captured more of my heart in the most empowering way since I started seeing Bonnie. People say be yourself so seriously, don't let those words become diluted for you. Be yourself. And if you're not sure who that is, spend the time to figure it out. Don't be in a relationship just to be in a relationship. Have your own identity and whomever you decide to love must respect all of you in that manner. Have a hobby and keep up on it. Have a passion outside of the person you're with because if they ever (god forbid) go away, you need to have kept your sense of self.
With all that said, respect the rules. Don't be a butthead. Know when to speak up and when to shut up. You'll thank me later. Open doors for old people. Old doors for women and children. Treat everyone how you would wish to be treated and if they don't treat you well, fuck 'em. Walk away and get away from that energy. You don't need it. Say thank you. Say please. You'll be amazed how far it'll get you. I didn't raise no dummies...you already know this! :)
As much as we don't want to think of this ever happening, there could be a day when I'm not here. It could happen too soon so I'm writing to give you as much of myself as I can with mere words.
You are both dearly loved and wanted. Your dad and I waited years (yes, years) for you. Talon's book explains the journey and raw detail, which also includes a letter which is for you both. I was born Sarah Beth Vaughan but when I married your dad I became Sarah Vaughan Zook. My nickname growing up was Cheese, given to me by the neighbor boys and your aunt, Elisa. What can I say? It's true. I like cheese. A lot.
As much as I advocate for communication, it's still hard. Do it as much as you can though. I prefer cool weather to hot weather. I wear a lot of tank tops. I like muscles and untraditional things. When I met your dad, I felt more like a boy than a girl...whatever the fuck that means. I cuss a lot. Over time, I've come into my own but I still fight hard to sticking to my gut of what feels natural to me. Sometimes I can get caught up in shit around me and lose sight. I used to not enjoy going to the beach but now that I'm older, I do. I was never a fan of swim suits but the older I got the more comfortable in my body I became and don't mind.
I love breakfast and sushi but not sushi for breakfast. I like most anything not mainstream then decide later. Remind your dad to show you picture of me with all colors of hair. Make him take you to Hawaii someday. I never went...yet.
You both got kissed pretty much every time I picked you up. I'd stare at you for a few seconds before I'd pull you into my chest and couldn't believe you're mine or how ridiculously cute you both are. I'd worry you won't know your cousins or grandparents very well. I think about what our next house will be and where it will be. I wonder what you'll want to go, where you'll go, who you'll be, and hope we're fiercely close no matter where on the map we are. I want to raise boys who are confident, passionate, full of love and ambition. Too many get raised that way because they aren't taught the differences in their own ego. I plan on teaching you to punch because everyone needs to know how to punch. I want to you never be afraid to dance because dancing fucking rocks and everyone loves a handsome man who can dance. Plus it'll make you feel good. Sing if you feel like it. Sing if you want to.
I can't stand too much *stuff* and dislike uncleanliness. It's cathartic to purge crap you're not using. I love shopping; Adidas shoes, dresses, tailored men's trousers, vests and shirts, makeup, baggy pants, tank tops.
Your dad is intensely, insanely creative. Play. Dream. Create with him.
Don't trust someone too much who doesn't have some kind of grammar ability; writing and speaking. It speaks volumes.
Be authentic. This is a process that has captured more of my heart in the most empowering way since I started seeing Bonnie. People say be yourself so seriously, don't let those words become diluted for you. Be yourself. And if you're not sure who that is, spend the time to figure it out. Don't be in a relationship just to be in a relationship. Have your own identity and whomever you decide to love must respect all of you in that manner. Have a hobby and keep up on it. Have a passion outside of the person you're with because if they ever (god forbid) go away, you need to have kept your sense of self.
With all that said, respect the rules. Don't be a butthead. Know when to speak up and when to shut up. You'll thank me later. Open doors for old people. Old doors for women and children. Treat everyone how you would wish to be treated and if they don't treat you well, fuck 'em. Walk away and get away from that energy. You don't need it. Say thank you. Say please. You'll be amazed how far it'll get you. I didn't raise no dummies...you already know this! :)
Friday, November 15, 2013
Overload.
More days are good than bad and I hate that I'm writing when it'd been a bad day. Your blog deserves happy thoughts. But, yesterday was one of the bad. We all woke up off, Talon was cranky, you were fussy, Talon refused to nap, by 4pm I was screaming into the middle of the living room thus scaring the shit out of Talon. I suck. After drying tears and patching the trauma Talon just witnessed, I texted your dad to come home after work as soon as he could then we all went for a walk.
It's interesting because this came during a week where I've been feeling seriously overloaded. I'm going to verbal vomit on here because there's no where else to dump it. Too many people, too much information bombarded about people whose drama I'm not even a part of, and the overall feeling of anger when you keep hearing how people call each other friends then talk so much shit behind each other's backs. Again, I'm not even involved in these groups. Why should I care? I'm mad these women are so horribly unsupportive and cruel to each other behind their backs yet shiny happy people to each other's face. Oh, the Facebook quotes they post! HA! I call bullshit.
I don't compete with my friends. In fact, I wouldn't be friends with people with whom I compete. If training for a sport takes over so much of your life and you can't speak nicely about your competitor even though you call her a friend, then WHY THE FUCK do you hang out with her? She's your competition! Nod your head in the weight room, acknowledge, and move on. The shit I've heard...it's unbelievable. I guess some people have not progressed past junior high school way of communicating. There's a mentality of only the people who also compete know what you're going through. I get that. In that case, just be nice to each other. Stop being passive-aggressive. Stop calling each other names. After she leaves the conversation when you've just told her how awesome she is, stop saying, "Oh she'll never be ready for the show, she's too big/soft/skinny/blhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaalhhhhhhhhhhhh." I literally just met someone a couple weeks ago who said she stays out of drama at the gym. I knew of her for a long time and knew it was complete crap coming out of her mouth. Strike 1 against me. It began to build...
You can be damn sure I'm going to confront someone if I've heard they have said something about me. Confrontation is intimidating but when it comes to sticking up for yourself, defending a friend, you bet your ass it's worth it. What's the worst that can happen? Afraid of losing a friend who never acted like a friend in the first place?
Tuesday I went to the gym just we always do. There was a playlist on my iPod called "FUCK" created specifically for these types of days. Pretty much all Eminem. I love him. I put on my headphones, kept my head down, said HI enough to not make anyone wonder. At the gym, I can't not be "off". I am an employee and there's no time to completely tune out. I know too many people and I'm always being watched as someone who works there. If I truly wanted to completely go off grid, I wouldn't go to the gym but I needed to lift heavy shit.
This week also made me seriously contemplate deleting my Facebook account. Not just deactivating, but deleting. The fact that it plays a significant role in staying connected with family photos and friends, I decided I needed to just back off it instead of deleting. *sigh*
I recognize different energies surging through me. I'm careful about what I say and to whom. I know that the energy I create is going to be the energy I get so it makes sense that this all happened this week. As soon as I started getting upset again about a problem I have with a manager, it welcomed the bad energy and I couldn't filter through it fast enough. I am intuitive enough to feel when I need to back off and when I need to walk away when conversations that are damaging to my energy arise. If it doesn't involve us, we just don't need it.
In other news, you ate a few more bites of banana this morning, sneezed, and then there was banana snot all over you. You smiled and that's the best parts of my day. Cheers to a new day.
It's interesting because this came during a week where I've been feeling seriously overloaded. I'm going to verbal vomit on here because there's no where else to dump it. Too many people, too much information bombarded about people whose drama I'm not even a part of, and the overall feeling of anger when you keep hearing how people call each other friends then talk so much shit behind each other's backs. Again, I'm not even involved in these groups. Why should I care? I'm mad these women are so horribly unsupportive and cruel to each other behind their backs yet shiny happy people to each other's face. Oh, the Facebook quotes they post! HA! I call bullshit.
I don't compete with my friends. In fact, I wouldn't be friends with people with whom I compete. If training for a sport takes over so much of your life and you can't speak nicely about your competitor even though you call her a friend, then WHY THE FUCK do you hang out with her? She's your competition! Nod your head in the weight room, acknowledge, and move on. The shit I've heard...it's unbelievable. I guess some people have not progressed past junior high school way of communicating. There's a mentality of only the people who also compete know what you're going through. I get that. In that case, just be nice to each other. Stop being passive-aggressive. Stop calling each other names. After she leaves the conversation when you've just told her how awesome she is, stop saying, "Oh she'll never be ready for the show, she's too big/soft/skinny/blhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaalhhhhhhhhhhhh." I literally just met someone a couple weeks ago who said she stays out of drama at the gym. I knew of her for a long time and knew it was complete crap coming out of her mouth. Strike 1 against me. It began to build...
You can be damn sure I'm going to confront someone if I've heard they have said something about me. Confrontation is intimidating but when it comes to sticking up for yourself, defending a friend, you bet your ass it's worth it. What's the worst that can happen? Afraid of losing a friend who never acted like a friend in the first place?
Tuesday I went to the gym just we always do. There was a playlist on my iPod called "FUCK" created specifically for these types of days. Pretty much all Eminem. I love him. I put on my headphones, kept my head down, said HI enough to not make anyone wonder. At the gym, I can't not be "off". I am an employee and there's no time to completely tune out. I know too many people and I'm always being watched as someone who works there. If I truly wanted to completely go off grid, I wouldn't go to the gym but I needed to lift heavy shit.
This week also made me seriously contemplate deleting my Facebook account. Not just deactivating, but deleting. The fact that it plays a significant role in staying connected with family photos and friends, I decided I needed to just back off it instead of deleting. *sigh*
I recognize different energies surging through me. I'm careful about what I say and to whom. I know that the energy I create is going to be the energy I get so it makes sense that this all happened this week. As soon as I started getting upset again about a problem I have with a manager, it welcomed the bad energy and I couldn't filter through it fast enough. I am intuitive enough to feel when I need to back off and when I need to walk away when conversations that are damaging to my energy arise. If it doesn't involve us, we just don't need it.
In other news, you ate a few more bites of banana this morning, sneezed, and then there was banana snot all over you. You smiled and that's the best parts of my day. Cheers to a new day.
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