Is Beauty Skin Deep?

Beauty is described by dictionary.com as...

1. the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest)

(Come on poodles, you don't think anyone actually uses a real dictionary anymore?)

The pressure to be physically beautiful in our society is overwhelming. There are products to make your skin look like a toddler again. Tools to make your hair lay perfectly. Eyeshadow to make your eyes stand out more. Pills to shrink your butt. Spanx to wear under your clothes to make your butt APPEAR smaller in case you forget to take the pills. Surgeons to just chop off the parts of yourself you don't find beautiful, and surgically add features you always wished you had.

And then of course there's Photoshop to make us look more attractive when despite all our efforts and money, we still don't feel pretty enough.

Studies have shown that even BABIES are obsessed with physically beautiful people; proven by their gleeful reactions to photographs of pretty people, and frowns at the not-so-pretty.

We are a society that - as a whole - puts a whole lot of emphasis on physical beauty.

All the while neglecting the most important part of beauty...what's inside.

And no, I'm not talking about bleaching your rectal opening, which I was recently informed happened on an episde of Dr. 90210.

Seriously, now we even need our rectal opening to be pretty?

I used to be among the mass of females that thought I just wasn't worth a crap unless everyone else thought I was attractive. Wear the right clothes, drive the right car, have the right house filled with all the right decor. Cry myself to sleep when I felt fat, starve myself if I ate too much the day before. Obsess endlessly over one pimple, constantly compare myself to the next girl. Assume that anytime something negative happened it was because I didn't look good enough, or just wasn't good enough period.

Then I birthed two little angel humans.

There ain't no pressure in this world like knowing you could be responsible for landing two girls in therapy someday. I will forever be the woman they look up to, their idea of perfection, the woman who can do no wrong. They will model their behavior after me, adopt some of my attitudes about life, and their self-esteem and image will be directly linked to what I teach them, and most importantly - how they see me treat myself and others.

Here is what I will spend the next 50 years siphoning into my daughters' adorable brains.

Great boobs don't mean a thing if there is no passion, kindness, and heart underneath them. Pretty hair is useless without an inquisitive, intelligent brain hiding beneath it. Might as well amputate those fabulously defined arms and legs if they aren't used to fine-tune your talents and get yourself somewhere in life. That gorgeous face looks really appealing until the mouth attached to it has nothing insightful or funny to say. The perfectly manicured nails are exsquisite until they are more worried about getting messy to do anything productive.

I am a huge fan of caring for yourself, both physically and mentally. I like being in good shape, I love primping, I am addicted to stylish clothes and shoes, and I am even guilty of telling my daughters how pretty they are and smiling when someone tells me the same.

But after 30+ years of putting far too much emphasis on my physical appearance, I finally understand that looks don't last. Looks might get you noticed and make you stand out, but they don't make you memorable. A great personality can make an average person more attractive, and a horrible persona definitely makes a pretty person ugly.

At the end of the day when my head hits the pillow, I never feel good about being a bad person, no matter how great my butt looked in my trendy jeans. And I want my daughters to know now that in the grand scheme of things? Physical beauty just ain't all it's cracked up to be.

"Girls, what's more important
than being pretty? Being kind, funny, and smart!"
~mommy

Respect Boundaries. Yours.

My 7-year-old daughter, Avery, lost her coat last week.

Again.

This is the second coat that has come up missing since we started wearing coats. The first time I was pretty understanding. She checked at school, daycare, we got another one. But when I am paying for a third coat in one winter season, I start to get a little peeved.

Then my mom reminds me that I lost my coat every year growing up, too, so "don't be too hard on her, she's just a kid." Sometimes mothering would be easier without your own mother reminding you that, "you did that at her age too you know!"

But that, right there, is one thing I believe has gone wrong in our society. We are too easy on our kids, too easy on others...

All the while putting ourselves on the mental chopping block to make everyone else happy.

The opportunity to set boundaries for ourselves and the people around us presents itself all the time, and we miss the boat because we don't want to be "too harsh" or "hurt someone's feelings." Never mind that our personal space, feelings and self-respect gets completely trampled in the process.

I decided, after I purchased the third coat, that it was time to set a boundary. It was costing me a fortune to keep buying them, and I was getting more and more upset every time one was lost.

"Avery, I am buying you another coat. I am not going to lecture you about losing your coat again, or repeat that it's your responsibility to keep up with your things. But if you lose this one, your saved up allowance will go towards the purchase of another one."

I'm pretty sure she won't lose this coat, based on the size of her eyeballs.

This incident, along with a conversation with an old friend over coffee this weekend got my head hamsters running furiously in their wheel. And I gotta tell you, we as human beings make ourselves absolutely miserable by failing to enforce boundaries for those around us, and being too passive when it comes to expressing ourselves.

Parenting is one example, and it has taken me a very long time to get comfortable with the idea that my daughters might despise me sometimes. I literally have to repeat to myself daily, they don't always have to like me, but they do have to respect me. My job is not to physically take care of them and ward off tantrums forever, but to teach them how to be productive, functioning, contributing members of society someday.

I am, in essence, raising adults.

We TEACH people how to treat us, and very often, the type of behavior we allow from them is exactly what we continue to get.

Romantic relationships are another great example of failure to set boundaries. When I am dating a man, for example, the tone of our relationship gets set very early on. I am like many women in that I will test boundaries, push his buttons, all to see what he will tolerate. In other words, I'll act like a spoiled princess if you allow it.

Him: "Honey I am so sorry."

Me: "What are you sorry for?"

Him: "Well, I just don't want you to be upset, so I'm apologizing."

I throw a tantrum because I don't get my way, and even though he doesn't think he was wrong, he apologizes to smooth things over. Wrong move. Now I know that every time I don't get my way he will sacrifice himself to make me happy. He might as well have handed me his privates in a jar that I could admire on my shelf.

I would respect him a heck of a lot more if he said...

Look. You sit over there and suck on your pacifier. I'll be over here with the other adults waiting on you to have a rational conversation about why you are upset.

That actually happened once. I almost married him. It literally only took one man to put me in my place before I started being more aware of my actions.

Once you begin to analyze the "people pleasing phenomonon" you realize it surrounds and suffocates us. Every single day I find several examples around me.

"I can't tell her the truth because she'll be mad at me."

"I let my kids have xyz because it was easier than them getting upset."

"I kept my opinion to myself because it was easier than a conflict."

"I just ignore the things I don't want to deal with."

Repeat after me.

I am only responsible for gently, fairly, and rationally communicating my needs and wants to others. I am not responsible for their reaction.

~Disclaimer: I am by no means an expert on any topic I write about. I am knowledgeable because I make the same mistakes I write about every day of my life. Oh, and as always, as a woman, I reserve the right to change my mind about anything, anytime, anywhere. Including everything I have written, just wrote, or might write in the future.

10 Reasons I Love Being Single...

I don't always like being single. In fact, there are days when I'd rather stick pins in my eyeballs than take out the trash by myself, clean house by myself, bath kids by myself, and sleep amidst ten pillows by myself. For five years, I did all those things with someone beside me. Having a companion made the difficult moments bearable, the happy moments happier, and the downright maddening moments humorous.

But then...

I meet someone, we develop a relationship, and literally within seconds he's there too much. All up in my bubble. Demanding too much time. Reminding me how difficult making a relationship work really is. I get anxious, defensive, and an argument ensues about my aloofness regarding spending time with him. Then I realize how utterly selfish I have become with my time in the four years since my divorce.

And here's why...

10. When I'm ready for bed, I go to bed. When I want to wake up, I wake up. There is no one hounding me about staying up too late, "when are you coming to bed", or "just stay up with me a few more minutes while I finish this", or worse; WAKING ME UP BEFORE I'M READY TO ROLL OUT OF BED!

9. I do not have to share television time with ANYONE. I can watch every disgustingly sappy chick flick on Lifetime, I can re-play The Notebook a million times, or I can DVR the Biggest Loser and watch it without a male commentary on how gay all of these shows are. Even better, I never have to sit through a boring documentary on the History Channel and pretend it's interesting just to buy credits for him to sit through one of my shows.

8. I never have to complain about the way someone else folds the laundry, or do things twice because it wasn't the way I wanted it the first time. Towels are folded exactly how I like them, everything is washed just like it's supposed to be, and the best part is...

(I only have to do it once)

7. When I need a night out with the girls, I do not have a curfew. I don't have to call anyone to ask permission to stay out later, or make excuses for my significant other who will not stop calling all night. If I decide to go for pancakes at 2 a.m., I can come home at 4. And the next morning, I don't have to feel guilty about being unproductive when my significant other woke up without a headache.

6. My living room, bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom can all be pink. There is no one to bargain with about decor options, or whine because our bedspread isn't manly enough. And I don't have to trade favors to keep the football memorabilia OUT of the house and in the garage.

(Or pretend it's important to me when really, I wish he'd throw it away)

5. Every night at our house is girl's night, and I have no one else to consider. We paint our nails, do crafts, make videos, and I don't have to worry that any man feels left out.

4. There is no one tempting me to eat unhealthy. Ever noticed not many single women are overweight? It's because we don't have a man in the house with a super high metabolism who can eat cheeseburgers and not wear them on their butt. Ever tried making chicken fried steak for him while you eat a salad? It doesn't work.

3. I only have to shave my legs for special occasions. Ew. I know. Seriously though, if I only shave every couple of days in the winter, I don't have someone crying "your legs feel like a forest" the moment I crawl into bed. Cause my pink comforter? Never complains.

2. When I tire of someone's crap, I don't have to pay attorney's fees, file for divorce, and fight over who gets the dog. I just change their number in my phone to DNA and stop answering their calls.

And the number one reason I love being single...

1. When I do meet Mr. Right, I'll be so tired of doing everything by myself that I won't care how he folds the laundry or that he didn't take out the trash exactly when he said he would. I'll be so grateful for those two extra hands that I *might* even shave my legs every day.

~Disclaimer: As always, because I am a woman, I reserve the right to change my mind about anything, anywhere, anytime. Including everything I have written, just wrote, or might write in the future.

Why men cheat...

Now before some random man accuses me of posting an estrogen-loaded attack on the male species, I’d like to point a few things out…

I love men.

I really really do. I got hugs from my Dad growing up, was married to a man who adored me, and have never been beaten or treated badly by a man, honestly. I have this uncanny ability to steer every romantic relationship into the friend zone when I tire of being intimate, which leaves me with several fabulous platonic male companions.

But men - men are just different than women. Over the last four years I’ve met men from every walk of life. Studied their behavior as a hobby. Listened intently as my male friends talk about relationships and sex. Read about the male/female biological differences. Gone on dates and asked a million questions. All to try and understand why relationships so often fail these days, and why men get married only to cheat.

And I have nothing, I repeat, nothing figured out, in case you were wondering.

Sure, women cheat too, as the men are screaming from the peanut gallery. But women cheating is a far less number than men. And women cheat for entirely different reasons.

And this blog isn’t about women cheating, it’s about men, so hush and just listen.

Because studies have shown that 1 in 4 married men admit to cheating on their spouse at some point during their marriage. And I’m pretty sure there were at least 2 that were too scared to admit that one night in Vegas, even in an anonymous survey.

Tiger, Tiger, Tiger.

Men are wondering why he would cheat on a Swedish model, and women are disgusted that he could disgrace the family he supposedly loves. And I think we’re all a little disappointed that someone with such a squeaky clean image has now joined the Bill Clinton’s of the world.

"I did not have sex with that woman." ~bill clinton

Men don’t always cheat because they are dissatisfied with their wife’s appearance. Nor do they always cheat because they never get sex at home. And it certainly isn’t because they don’t love their wife and children. They cheat for those reasons, too, as confusing as it seems.

Sometimes they cheat because men - unlike women - have an animalistic urge to mate, and when the blood rushes to one spot, the hot, no-strings-attached 21-year-old throwing herself at him has exactly what would cure it.

“He wasn’t exactly cheating, he was just trying to get some relief!” ~me

He doesn’t want to marry Jezabel the slutty waitress, let’s get real. He’s not going to fall in love with her.

“When will women really understand that for men, sex and emotions do not always go together! Really!” ~single sexual male

He has a wife at home that nurtures and cares for his family, is his soft spot to fall when he feels the world is against him, and loves him unconditionally. But after birthing and caring for two children, his wife is not exactly ready to give it up at any second the way Jezabel is. She doesn’t always have the mental and physical energy to focus entirely on him the way Jezabel does. She has expectations of him as a husband and father, and he can simply live in the lustful moment with Jezabel, whose standards are not difficult to live up to.

Pay her bar tab and rock her world. It’s that freaking simple.

Men cheat because they CRAVE affirmation in some form, no matter how many times they deny it, or how much women ignore it. They want to know they are needed and wanted, and when they do not feel that at home, they are likely to accept it elsewhere.

Man comes home, days on end, to a nagging and complaining wife. She sleeps in bed with their child, while he sleeps on the couch; sex the farthest thing from her mind. She assumes he loves her unconditionally, is in it for the long haul, no need to tell him he’s wonderful or have sex, there will be time for that later.

Man goes on business trip, has a few drinks, random hot woman showers him with attention and says she wants him and bingo.

There, folks is the recipe for an affair.

“She actually laughed at my jokes. Do you know how long it’s been since my wife thought I was funny?” ~man who cheated

Maybe, just maybe, instead of always assuming the man is a rotten pig, we should ask the spouse for once…”Based on your husband’s undeniable biological needs, what part did you play in failing to meet them and why?”

True Life Case File 1
I haven’t slept next to my wife in four KIDS!

I met him at happy hour one night with friends, only months after my divorce. Naïve and new to being single again, I checked for a wedding ring but didn’t look closely for the indention. He was adorable, charming, in town on business, and we had a blast together. The next time he was in town, however, lacing my fingers through his over dinner, I noticed the slightly compressed area on his left hand. Shocked, I threw his hand down and demanded to know the truth. He stammered, stuttered, and I used what would become my famous line with married men…

”you can either tell me the truth yourself and we'll move on, or I’ll find out on my own and then call your wife.” ~me

He was married to his high school sweetheart. Pulled out a picture of his gorgeous wife and four children.

“I love my wife and my children. But she has rarely slept next to me since our first child was born. I am literally invisible as anything but a father and paycheck. The only time I really feel like a man is when I am in the company of a woman other than my wife.” ~cheater number one

I know, I know. Boo-hoo, right? You knew what you were getting into. If you didn’t want a wife and children, why didn’t you just stay single? You are disgracing your family by cheating. How about honoring your family making you feel like a man, instead of random flings? Have you NO decency?

Clearly, the date was over. Obviously he could have been lying about his reasons for cheating. But part of me genuinely understood his unhappiness.

“I consider it part of my job to keep myself attractive and have sex with my husband. He’s a man, if I don’t give it to him eventually he’ll get it somewhere else!” ~my best friend, happily married woman of 12 years

True Case File 2
I am in lust with your teeth but in love with my wife!

Goodness sakes Trey was handsome. Another night out with the girls, he and his friend came over to tell me how great my teeth were. Yes, sometimes those lines actually work. He racked up a $500 bar tab buying drinks for all of my friends, we danced the night away. He was 38, never married, no children. In town for a real estate deal, and yes, I did begin to notice a theme here.

If they are in town on business, it’s very likely they are married.

"Billie, he's not a tightrope walker in the circus, or an astronaut, or an abercrombie model. He's a liar." ~my platonic soulmate, Trav

The next day, I had this feeling. I called my super sleuth friend who burned up her keyboard and in a matter of minutes, for free; she found out that Trey wasn’t exactly truthful. In fact Trey was married, had three young children, and sold dormitory furniture for a living. He was in town for a trade show to demonstrate his desks, not to close a real estate deal.

This one bothered me, on so many levels. This man not only lied about his wife, but denied ever having his three precious children. How could someone lie about their children in an attempt to have sex with someone?

I denied his physical advances, by the way.

This one, I had no sympathy for. By now I was just getting irritated and decided to shake him up a little. I called his hotel room, with super sleuth on three way, and in a very sweet voice asked what Kelly, his wife would say if I called and told her he didn’t remember their three children? This grown man was almost in tears as he begged and pleaded and insisted I would break up their married if I did that.

True Case File 3
I’m not legally divorced, but I am the next Brett Favre!

It’s 8 a.m. on a Saturday morning, and the Adorables and I are making our usual donut run on the way to the gym. We are arguing over egg nog when a very handsome stranger insists I should let them have it. We conversate about training, children, as we are waiting in line to pay. As I am pumping gas, he walks over and hands me a business card, invites me to lunch sometimes, and asks me to call him.

I email him instead, we set up a lunch date, and then I check him out thoroughly.
Marriage filed, no divorce, but I decide that there could be a reasonable explanation. Would a married man go out of his way to ask a woman out in the same town he lives in with his wife?

Yes. He would.

And he did.

Poor Grant, I mean, this man got the brunt of years’ of my married man experiences and the ones I have endured with friends. Cause, you see, I am older, wiser, and not so naïve now. I have become good at this game they call dating, and I have no problem being very blunt when I feel violated.

I gave him the chance to explain…he had been separated for a year, living in separate households, his children living with him because their mother is “mentally just crazy.” I chowed down on cheese dip while he told me at 42; he could probably re-start his football career, “because Brett Favre did it.” I patiently let him finish telling me how many bad first dates he’s had, and how refreshing it was to be out with someone who could carry a conversation.

(insert boring elevator music)

And then I excused myself, left him with the bill, and politely told him he could call me when his divorce was final, because I don’t date committed or married men. Period.

“Um, the big difference between you and Brett Favre is that he is Brett Favre and you're just 42 years old. Are you nuts?” ~me

As it turns out, Grant lives with his wife. They have never been separated, she is not crazy, and her kids love their mother. She thought he was working the day he took me on a date. I know all of this, because as luck would have it, he told me his brother works out at my gym. He also asked me not to mention our date because “my brother has some mental illness and would say things that aren’t true.” But I'm sure you probably already figured out that - OOPS - I forgot to not mention the date to his brother :)

While I’ve said throughout this blog that I sympathize with the reasons men cheat, let me make some things clear.

I do not condone, promote or think it's okay to cheat. Sympathizing is entirely different than approving.

I like to make my own decisions regarding my life, based on facts rather than emotion. When someone who is married lies to a woman and misrepresents the facts, they are in essence making the decision for her, based on incorrect assumptions.

Assumption being that she would accept being second to someone’s spouse.

Assumption being that she would not take moral responsibility for the vows he made to someone, whether he takes them serious or not.

Assumption being that she has so little self respect that she would settle for a married man when there are a billion unattached people in this world.

Assumption being that she wants to have her tires flattened when his wife finds out about her and blames her instead of him, when she never knew a wife existed.

Please, cheaters, stick to cheating with people who know you are married and let the rest of us cling to hope that the fairy tale still exists.

Does anyone besides me feel sorry for the next married man who approaches me?

Disclaimer: As a woman, I reserve the right to change my mind about anything, anywhere, at anytime. Including everything I have written, just wrote, or might write in the future.

Flab to Fab Vol I

I received a message this week from a friend "Home Gym" asking for weight loss advice.

As some of you might know, I am a personal trainer who specializes in working with overweight women. There will be more about my training at another time as I LOVE talking fitness, but I asked said friend if I could respond to her message publicly, as I feel her struggles are ones that we all know too well.

Her message to me read:

As usual, I'm *still* battling my weight and really sick and tired of being a broken record. I do so well short term, but then can't follow through. I have *no* idea what is wrong with me but I get mentally derailed.I need to lose about 50lbs...probably more, but I can't think that big. In my house I have an elliptical trainer, 3, 5, 8lb dumbells, yoga mat, stair with 1 riser, resistance bands, stability ball, the slim in 6 dvd's and the biggest loser cardio and sculpt max dvd's. I did the couch to 5k plan in May and loved it, but with the weather it's not totally feasible for me to run much as it's dark before my husband is home from work and with the kids, you know how that goes. Anyways - any advice on exactly what I should do? I know that's such a big question, but I just cannot seem to get motivated. I also have a bike that I want to get helmet and start biking, maybe on the weekends...

As someone who spent three solid years being 100+ pounds overweight, I understand everything written in this message. The lack of motivation, giving up too soon, wanting to spend time with the hubby and kids instead.

However, I am going to talk to you exactly like I talk to my paid clients at the gym. Very direct. No sugar coating. No holds barred.

Nothing and no one can help you lose weight unless you help yourself.

I am so jealous of the home gym setup you have, because many of my workouts center around the exact items you have. But without the motivation to get started and stick with it, it's all useless. I believe that when you are serious about making changes, you will know. It will click, and the struggles seem easier, because you are committed to making it work.

You can't get where you're going unless you know where that is.

If you are anything like me, or other women I know, thinking about losing 50 pounds is daunting, and unless it happens overnight, we tend to give up. Set small goals for yourself, and make it a competition against yourself. WRITE IT DOWN! (Since I know you, I know that you like spreadsheets and organizing, so make this a hobby.) Set an ultimate goal, smaller goals to meet along the way, and devise a plan to get there. Then force yourself to check in on it weekly to hold yourself accountable.

Get realistic so you don't set yourself up for failure.

One of the first things I ask a new client is...tell me 4-5 times in a week that you have an hour to devote to working out, when nothing can get in the way? I mean, don't set 6 p.m. as your workout time if you know the kids are running around, your husband will be interrupting, etc. Sure, working out would be easier if we were all single and childless, but we're not, so if you want to lose the weight, you have to make it work.

Personally, I like to work out first thing in the morning, before daily life has a chance to intervene and sabotage my plan to work out that night. But other people love working out at night.

Hopefully by now you are getting the point I'm driving home...do not try to "wing it." Your weight loss plan has to be carefully mapped out and planned in advance, or it will fail. Trust me. I've been the failer, and watched many failees. (And yes, I just made those two words up.)

Get a pocket calendar and schedule your workouts just like you schedule piano lessons for the kids.

Expose your weakness

This is important. Too many trainers spend too much time simply showing someone how to work out, when in reality, our struggles with weight loss are rarely related to how well we can learn to move equipment. It is the psychological aspects of getting started and sticking with it. It sounds crazy, but by identifying the reasons you might quit up front, you can find ways to keep yourself from derailing along the way.

Just to keep the scales balanced here, I will give my own example of exposing my weakness and getting real with myself.

* If you put a french fry in front of my face, I will eat it. I will eat mine, then eat yours, and then want to buy another order and eat those, too. So unless it is my designated cheat day, I simply cannot allow myself to be in the company of french fries. We were meant to be, me and fries, and when we are reunited, I can't get enough.

* If I get interrupted during an intense workout, I will lose my mojo and work below 50% of my potential from that moment forward. So I wear an ipod, never make eye contact with people, and I am very blunt with men when they interrupt me (my biggest pet peeve on earth) that I am not there to conversate.

* If I go too long between meals, my physical need for hunger turns into psychological cravings and I will be elbows deep in a sugary cereal box. I carry protein shakes in my glove box, my gym bag. I swear, I should be an ad for Myoplex!

When I meet with a new client for the first time, we spend a straight hour talking. If they eat cupcakes for breakfast, I want to know. If they are lazy by nature and hate doing anything active, I need to know that. We work together to sabotage-proof a weight loss plan, because I truly believe that identifying triggers is essential to success. Not only identifying, but devising a plan of action to counteract.

One of my clients just finished her sixth week of working out with me. She has lost 15 pounds, has gone down a full size in pants (almost two sizes) and she has gotten stronger than an ox. She started out with 75 pounds to lose, admitted to giving up in the past when she doesn't see results quickly, AND she watches the Biggest Loser religiously, so she has some unrealistic expectations.

Side note: The Biggest Loser, while inspirational, is not reality folks.

Last week, "Min Pin" did not lose a pound. Not one. Her weight for the week stayed exactly the same. She went home after our workout and cried herself to sleep, as she admitted to me the next day.

"I have never been active in my life. I am working harder than I ever thought possible, watching my diet like crazy, and I didn't even lose a pound."

That pivotal moment is when many people give up and quit. It just takes one moment they define as failure, and they give up on themselves. Min Pin could let that spiral out of control. She could decide to devour 10 cupcakes, not work out the rest of the week which would turn into two weeks, then three, and in a month she will not only have put the 15 pounds back on, but probably gained more.

Or she could do exactly what she did. Beat herself up internally, shed some tears, vent some frustration, and then...

Dust herself off and keep going. Cause I know without a doubt the scale will be moving again next week.

I could not have more respect for this woman. It's not possible. She showed up the next day, worked even harder than she usually does, and she went and bought new jeans in a smaller size.

And we both knew, from identifying her weaknesses, that this is exactly the type of reaction she would have if there was a moment when she stalled. I knew to call and encourage her, remind her how much energy she has, how strong she's getting, how much better she looks and feels. These are the moments when you take your eye OFF the long-term result and focus on the positive aspects of your new lifestyle instead of obsessing about what you incorrectly view as a failure.

Not a failure. A temporary roadblock.

You ONLY fail when you give up.

To "Home Gym", this is your homework. Send me a message and tell me your plan. I want to know your workout days and times, and how long you have to work out. Tell me your weaknesses, and how you plan to overcome them.

Next up. A fabulous workout plan utilizing all of "Home Gym's" tools.

Here I am...

I have been writing creatively most of my life.

It started in first grade. The year my teacher, Mrs. Star, handed me a picture of a bear holding balloons and said, "write a story about him." I looked at her like she had lost her mind. It's a bear. He's holding balloons. The only story is what you see.

But as she would teach me during that year everything and everyone has a story beyond what the eye can see at first glance.

A writer was born that day, as that little bear traveled around the world and back beneath the furious scribble of my pencil. I started writing in a diary, dabbling in poetry. I wrote when I was happy, I wrote when I was mad, I wrote when it seemed the entire world was against me. Most of all, I wrote because it filled me with a passion I would later learn to channel into other unknown talents I had. Writing taught me so much about myself, as I could articulate things on paper I couldn't always find the words to verbalize.

I never had any desire to write professionally growing up. I wasn't interested in the school newspaper or journalism, it was just something I did as a hobby that made me feel good. Years later, at a pool tournament with my then husband, I met a newspaper editor who told me I needed to get published professionally and then he would hire me. When he told me no, of course, I was bound and determined to change his mind. I bugged him into giving me a chance to interview, and when that day came, I was involved in a head on collision on my way to meet him that resulted in air bag deployment, a trip to the ER and a goose egg the size of Texas on my forehead.

I called him on my way to the hospital, explained that I would be an hour late, and I showed up, goose egg shining and my scrapbooks in tow to demonstrate my creativity and writing ability.

I mean seriously, how could he NOT hire me after that kind of determination?

I got paid $7.50 an hour to chase down police stories, write about court cases, and I was always the first one to volunteer to write the Sunday front page feature. Feel good human interest pieces was where my heart was, and I would often spend hours interviewing the subjects of these stories. Eventually, he gave me a weekly column that allowed me to throw away AP writing style and let my voice be heard. It was a small newspaper in a small town, but I loved the lil ol ladies at the grocery store telling me how much they loved my latest column.

I won a couple of awards, did some freelance writing for a magazine, had a couple of articles published in larger magazines, but before I knew it, writing had become a deadline to meet instead of the hobby I really loved.

I started blogging on Myspace a couple of years ago, and had tons of fun doing that. I had readers from all over the world who told me they learned from my willingness to share my inner thoughts and feelings on a variety of topics, including my daily struggles and successes. Even then though, it was about gaining more readers, getting comments, showing off in a sense.

A fellow blogger whom I really enjoy reading, Chris, recently said that he realized the point of blogging was simply to write. Take away the need for people to comment, the "great blog" affirmation, and writing for an audience, and blogging can be a very theraputic and fullfilling hobby. We ALL want to be read, and we ALL want to know that people appreciate our talents, but in the end, a true writer writes because he feels out of sorts when he doesn't.

So, folks, that is why I created this new blog. It is my outlet, no matter how many times I say that I don't have the time, or that I should be doing more productive things. I am finally writing for one reason and one reason only.

Because writing is my passion and I don't feel like myself when I'm not doing it.

I am not sure how often I will be able to blog, as sometimes the urge to write hits many times in a week, and other times, writer's block ensues for days on end. Sometimes I will write topic specific and sometimes I just want to ramble. My life is as ecclectic as a life can get, and I often get asked if my life is really as exciting and chaotic as it appears.

Kinda. Part excitement, and part writer's embellishment, because who wants to read a boring story?

Stay tuned as I share the good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful of a chaotic life. A single mommy raising two beautiful girls on my own, searching for Mr. Right and having fun with the wrong ones. Making mistakes and learning about who I am. Balancing ponytail, no makeup mommy and short skirt wearing single woman. My journey from overweight to fit. Growing up inside while wrangling a playful, wild, free spirit.

Never a dull moment. You'll see :)