That sweet tooth, tho....

I admittedly have the worst sweet tooth known to man. I have a pretty great diet from a nutritional standpoint, with the exception of my constant need for sugar in any form. As hard as I try to completely cut the umbilical cord, sugar is still clinging to me like a baby spider monkey that I can't seem to shake. I know I need to quit. I have no real excuse, and frankly, it's embarrassing that I can have my life together in all aspects other than this.

I work out 5-7 days a week, I buy wholesome ingredients so that I stay on track with healthy meals. I make separate, extra-super-duper-healthy meals for myself and portion them out in advance so I can see that meal sitting there in the fridge, staring back at me when I feed my kids mac & cheese and pizza! But somehow I'll find myself stuffing sugary cereal into my face when I'm making their breakfast, or indulging in their graham crackers with nutella for snack. It was ok to eat that when I was 10. But now I'm 35, and it doesn't sit on my ass the same as it used to. 

In all of that sugar-avoidance misery, I have found one true solace. Chocolate Shakeology. In bold writing, because finding it was a very bold turning point in my life. At the time I decided to try Shakeology, I admit I found the price a bit daunting. Everyone does. It's not until you actually try and use it regularly that you realize it's true value. For me, it's this:

1. I'm not a huge meat eater. Only in small quantities, therefore I get bored trying to squeeze in enough protein on a daily basis. In one scoop of Shakeology, I get 34% of my daily protein requirements. Did I mention chocolate?

2. Veggies. While I love many types of veggies, I don't crave them as I do with other foods. Making sure I get them is a priority and one salad per day is enough for this girl. In just one glass of Shakeology, I'm getting $40 worth of fruits, veggies and superfoods into my diet. Plus the protein, and over 20 vitamins and minerals. And that's a very vague description, but if you want to get into ingredients, visit myshakeology.com/fighttoflourish for more details.

3. It's versatile! There are so many recipes out there for baked goodies, snacks, protein bars, cookies, etc. made with Shakeology. It's a great way to "healthify" something that could otherwise be pretty nasty for you, especially if it's a pre-packaged snack made in a factory. Eating clean may not come easy or natural to most of us because our society lives for convenience, quickness, and simplicity. We can't stand if something takes time or might requires some real attention. Which leads me to my next point.

4. It's easy and portable. It takes about 2 minutes to whip up a shake (I like mine mixed with ice and 25 calorie unsweetened cashew milk, plus a half banana and PB2). Pour it into my shaker cup and I'm off! On nights I'm running with the kids and tempted to make unhealthy choices, it's my go-to dinner.

Back to my original point...eating healthy can still be tasty. I decided to get creative today and make myself a little treat for tonight for after my intense leg workout at the gym. How do I know it will be intense if I haven't worked out yet? Well, because I'm badass and I don't do it any other way! Right?! Chocolate Shakeology pudding is going to replenish and repair some of the muscle protein that is broken down during an intense workout. 

Chocolate Chia Pudding

1 scoop Chocolate Shakeology

8 oz. Unsweetened Cashew Milk

1 tsp. 100% Pure Maple Syrup

2 tbsp. Chia Seeds

1 tbsp. Arrowroot Powder

1 tbsp. Unsweetened Shredded Coconut*

Whisk together shakeology, cashew milk, maple syrup, and arrowroot powder. Once thoroughly combined, mix in chia seeds and let sit for 20 minutes at room temperature. Move to refrigerator and chill for minimum of one hour. Top with fruit of your choice and coconut. Serve chilled.

*For the coconut haters out there, substitute with chopped nuts 

Now if that isn't a healthy way to kick a sweet tooth to the curb, I don't know what is. Please, if you try this recipe, I'd love your reviews. 

I see dead people....

....nah I'm just kidding. But I DO have a ghost in my house. Oh, you think I'm kidding? I love to joke. But I am not joking about this. Since May, things have been a little off around here. I don't feel threatened, and I'm not the least bit concerned. Definitely feeling a little more than annoyed at this spirit who is continually fucking with me.

There is a rack that hangs just inside my bedroom door with three pegs on it. I hang my necklaces and baseball caps on it and rarely take anything off of the rack. It is mainly untouched. Back in May, on a regular old weekday, I had laid down one of my daycare kids for a nap in that room. His crib was across the room with no access to the shelf. When I got him up from nap, the shelf was in tact and in its place. I closed the door behind me and didn't open it again until I went to bed that night. The girls were staying at their dad's for the night, and I spent the evening running errands and at the gym. When I opened the door to go to bed that night, the shelf was on the floor, all of the necklaces and hats sprawled out. The nails that the rack hang from were still in place. No explanation.

A few days later, I woke up to find the two razors that hang from suction cups in the shower on the bathtub floor. Both of the contraptions that hang the razors were still suctioned cupped to the wall. It's as if they just jumped forward from where they hung and launched themselves onto the floor. No explanation.

It was during this same week that I noticed some orbs of light next to me in one of the fitness progress pics I took. I had just cleaned the mirror, so there was definitely no chance that it was a spot on the mirror mimicking an orb.

After this, an entire brand new jar of peanut butter went missing, then reappeared a whole month later. I had went grocery shopping with Anna, my oldest, while the other two were with their dad for the night. I don't eat that peanut butter...only the kids do. My daughter has NO reason to hide a jar of peanut butter to trick me, despite popular opinion. It's her damn peanut butter! We looked in the Durango, under the seats, behind the seats, in every room of the house, including the playroom. The basement. Every. Single. Room. Then, a month later, I walked into the kitchen around 10:30am thinking about what I'd be serving my daycare kids for lunch, and what did I find? A jar of peanut butter. Laying on it's side in the middle of the kitchen floor. I looked inside the cupboard where we keep the peanut butter, and there was already a jar in there, mostly gone. (I replaced the missing jar two days later) The jar I picked up off the floor was brand new. The seal had never been broken. So...where had this jar been hiding for a month? How did it just appear as easily as it had disappeared? And why now? Was I a little freak out? Yes. Puzzled? Yes. To say the least. I grilled my kids about that peanut butter, demanded an answer. Then Anna reminded me that I sent her out looking for it in the car and through the house. If she took it, she sure as hell wouldn't have helped me look. She's too lazy for that.

About a month after that, as I had one of my daycare kids laying on a changing mat on the floor, a canvas picture just fell off the wall from above me. Thank goodness for my cat-like reflexes, because I caught it before I landed on me or the kid I was changing. Nothing like getting knocked out by a flying piece of art.

Another month or two later, as I'm sitting on the bed in my room talking with Tyler, we hear a crash. The kids were in their rooms settling in for bedtime...no one in the hallway. The mirror that hangs on the wall there leapt from it's home and shattered on the hall floor. All by itself.

This week on Tuesday, I was home alone in bed. One cat was sitting on the window sill in my room, and the other laying on the floor just outside the door. The door was open, he was visible to me and he didn't move a muscle. But I swear to God, I heard my front door open and close. I thought maybe I forgot to lock it and the wind blew it open as it sometimes does, because it doesn't latch correctly. Or that Tyler decided to surprise me and show up unexpectedly. Nope. Neither of those were true. I got up to investigate and the door...was locked. No one was there, it was never opened. But I know what I heard.

Friday night while doing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen, we were discussing the reason I keep the cards that accompanied the flowers he's sent me. I keep stuff like that because when I come across them, it makes me smile. It brings light to my day. It reminds me of how much we love each other, and how lucky I am to have a man in my life who cares so much that he'd do anything to see me smile. I had found them earlier that day and taped them to the upper cabinet in the kitchen so I can see them all the time, which is how the conversation started in the first place. We were gone all day watching Leo play football, then visiting my brother at his new house. We got home exhausted, took a nap, went to the gym. After the gym, I noticed ONE of the two cards I had hung were missing. Nowhere to be found. Not on the counter, not in any of the cabinets, on the floor, in the sink. NOWHERE. How da fuck? I don't understand how something like that can just disappear. This is not funny. It's not a game, at least not to me. I wasn't too upset when the mirror broke and I had to clean up the shards of glass, or when the shelf fell on the floor. Not even when I thought someone was inside my house. But you mess with my sentiments, and I get lit. Fired up. I'm sure Tyler got a silent giggle out of me yelling at a ghost to return my card. I asked them politely to put it back while I was sleeping...but they didn't listen. It's still missing. But I have faith that it will turn up eventually.

Anyone have the phone number for Ghostbusters?

What is happy, anyway?

This morning I sat on the sidewalk as I often do watching my kids walk to their bus stop and noticed the crickets were still happily chirping in the tall weeds in the garden surrounding my tree. Yeah, yeah, I know. I weeded them once this summer...is that not enough? I suddenly realized that life is about what is happening right now in this moment. Every moment is significant in some way, to someone. The crickets were chirping because they need to chirp. The kids were walking to the bus because they needed to learn stuff. I was sitting there on the sidewalk with my coffee because, well, responsible adulting requires me to make sure my kids don't play hooky.

But, as I sat there, I realized I could be using my time more efficiently. Instead of just drinking my coffee, I thought it would be the perfect time to reflect on the day before, and make a note of what I wanted to do better today. This entire silent conversation was prompted by the book I'm currently reading, The Happiness Project, by Gretchen Rubin.

The basis of the book is, in the pursuit of happiness, to write a list of resolutions (there were 12) and to tackle all of them, one per month, over the course of the year. I'm still early in the book, but so far have covered Boosting Energy and Remembering Love. My takeaways from each of these chapters has been this: If we take care of ourselves both mentally and physically (getting enough sleep, reducing stress, etc.), and spend more time being intentionally nice to the people we love, we will in turn find more happiness. 

Some of the methods that stuck out to me were decluttering the space we live and work in to
1. reduce that overwhelming feeling of needed to clean
2. focus on true, important tasks at hand
3. eliminate the need for material things to make us happy -- yes, even the things with sentimental value.

I have already begun what I'm going to call "The Great Purge". I started today by decluttering the junk drawer in the kitchen.  It's the catch all for things that don't make it to their true homes, or crap that I just don't want to look at anymore. I also started picking through some toys in the playroom that don't seem to get any use, and next...tackling the girls' rooms....gulp! This is no small task. I will be involving them directly in the decision making process on what stays and what goes. Ultimately, they will have to think about how often they use the item, what value it holds, and whether or not it still fits into their current trend or on their bodies.

I've already been consciously working on being a nicer person...for a long time. While I do spend a lot of time working on my own happiness, I spend a good amount of time making sure others have what they need to lead happy and productive lives, too. It's a proven fact that happy people are more successful, easier to be around, and are perceived as more confident, personable and even physically attractive. It benefits you and everyone around you to make it your personal mission to be happy. Trust me, people DO notice that change. My immediate goal is to speak more tenderly, show more love, maintain standards but lower expectations.

I'd be happy to recommend some great personal development books to anyone looking to sprinkle some happy on their life. The world will thank you.

Doomed

I knew this day was bound to be a doozy when a mosquito started snacking on my ass first thing this morning. Parts of my life are utterly perfect, and others seem to be in a slump. I know that it's normal to have peaks and valleys in any aspect of life, but that doesn't make dealing with them any easier. The problem is that when the little things start falling apart and feel a loss of control, I get overwhelmed and my PTSD kicks in. I start pushing back on the people I care about. This isn't something I have control over. It's like anxiety in a way that it's completely irrational and comes on unexpectedly. Sometimes there are teensy little, practically unnoticeable signs that I don't even pick up on...and I will usually deny that anything is even wrong until "the big push" happens. BAM! There it is. 

PSA: If a conversation ever presents itself to you with very little tact, it's probably because I'm pushing. I'm either feeling anxious or worried about something, or scared, and I don't know how to deal with it. All bets are off at this point, and once the fire dies down, I find myself having to back track to smother those embers that are now still burning in someone else's mind. It doesn't help matters that I'm stubborn by nature and like to have the last word, another area of self-improvement.

PTSD symptoms are real. Even for people who have never been in the military. It's a very real and potentially devastating thing, and it affects a lot of people. Women are highly prone to it, and it's been noted that the menstrual cycle can even affect the anxiety, fear and phobia reactions to PTSD. 

I know for certain that I have pushed on several of my close friends, my family, people who mean the world to me. If you are one of those people, please know that I love you...that hurting you is not my intention, and that I'm still working on myself. Every. Single. Day. I made a vow to myself three years ago that I would never stop trying to be the best person I can be. No matter what it takes, I will continue to make self improvements. Sometimes I focus more on my personal life, my values, my self-concept, and other times I feel the need to shift my focus to my physical health. All are equally important. Most notably, I'm making a conscious effort every day to surround myself with positivity, to be grateful and appreciative of the gifts I've been blessed with, and to find happiness even in the darkest times. Sometimes even taking a quiet moment to just be one with your surroundings make all the difference. If you let your kid use your phone while they wait for the bus, they might even catch you in a rare moment of calm.

If you open the blinds, the sun will shine in. Let it shine.

Mom brain got me like...

I could have killed a kid this weekend. (I'll get back to this) I somehow always manage to set myself up for a load of stress, and when I do, something will always happen to exacerbate the pain. Never. Fails. This time, it was me thinking it would be a smart idea to take on hosting not one, but THREE parties in one weekend. (I should maybe just get it over with and scrawl the words "stoopid" on my forehead in black sharpie...)

Starting mid-week I began shopping and prepping for these parties, which I honestly intended to be low-key. The baker and amateur chef in me likes to wow people with a nice spread of goodies to snack on while they enjoy each other's company. It was a little comical to see the 8 different recipes taped to my cabinets, but it was thoroughly satisfying to snatch one down throughout the week and put it back in the giant three ring binder I use to house my many foodie inspirations. Yes, I made 8 different things between two parties, not including three varieties of taquitos (veggie, chicken and veggie, and chicken and cheese) or the awesome popcorn production during the slumber party! I'm not sure how many batches we (ok, so Tyler was the popcorn chef) made for 14 kids.

Friday after work I took the kids and made one last Target run to get what we needed for the parties. For some reason my car wouldn't turn correctly. In my frazzled rush to get shit done, I didn't bother to actually investigate. I just drove to my destination, bitched that my car was breaking down and stressed over the thought of the repair bill. On the way home, Sophia asked me to roll down her window, and as I did, I heard something crack. She was pushing down on the window as it went down, and yes, you guessed it. The window wouldn't effing roll back up. My first thought was "am I going to be one of those people who have to drive around with a tarp duct taped to the window?!". Then I remember I used my last tarp to dispose of that last dead body. Naw, but really. It was was going to rain. And it did. With my window open alllll night long. The next day, my buddy Joel came to look at my car problems. The window does need a part, but it's easily fixed and he was able to zip tie the window up so that the inside is no longer rained on. But get this: my vehicle was NOT broken after all. One of my ridiculous children flipped the 4 wheel drive switch, and that is why it was hard to turn my damn wheel. Yes, I feel like a total idiot. Thankfully Joel knows all my worst stories, so him laughing at me over this didn't sting too bad. The takeaway: Take a deep breath...count to ten...assess the situation fully before you flip out. I'll do better next time.

On that note, my Perfectly Posh party went on to be a success. If you're curious about the company I can direct you to my consultant for more info! My daughter Taryn's 9th birthday...well, I survived. Between the ice cream sundae dropped face down on the floor, the entire jar of sprinkles dumped on the cupcakes, the cat chasing, the dropping of the toys down the laundry chute, the ongoing game of "Charlie Charlie, Are You There?", the late night whooping it up on the front lawn during the fireworks...I wasn't so sure I would. But, Tyler was my rock, my sanity. I love so many things about him, but most of all it's his cool-as-a-cucumber attitude in almost every situation. 

Even with 14 kids, (13 of them little girls) he didn't hesitate to hang with me and make sure the party went smoothly. For the first time in my life, I realize I have a partner! This is phenomenal. Exhausted from a half a week of prep, then hosting the two parties, I was ready for bed. Unfortunately the kids weren't. I think we were lucky to have them quiet by midnight. The morning after we teamed up for a big breakfast of banana pancakes and scrambled eggs. Aside from a few kids shooting Redi-whip into their mouths, the morning went on without any speed bumps.

My mom's surprise 60th birthday party at Cowboy Jack's in Woodbury was a huge success. She was so overwhelmed with happiness that she ugly-cried in front of her 20 guests. That's the best I could have asked for.

I'm treating myself to a much overdue pedicure tonight to thank myself for being an amazing friend, mom and daughter this weekend. If you haven't tooted your own horn lately, you should. Because you deserve it. Unless you don't...In that case go do something nice for someone else. It'll make you feel good. 

Recently I've started feeling the need to write again. It's always been the best way for me to get things off my chest. Once I logged back into my account, I began reading old posts. I'm astounded with some of the vivid detail in which I described my pitiful life. It was utterly heartbreaking to read my own sad, helpless words.

Looking back from the pretty f*cking happy place I currently reside in, I realized that if I was going to blog again, I needed a fresh start. That was the old Leann. The new Leann is real and raw...a badass woman who doesn't let things keep her from her goals. The new Leann is content, grateful, experienced, driven and compassionate. This Leann has lived a nightmare, but is moving toward a dream.

This here is a PSA: If you don't like sailor talk, don't read my blog. If you don't like raw truth, bluntness, or sarcasm, this won't be for you. But if you enjoy witty banter, and down to earth reality thrown at you with some comedy sprinkled on top, then stay! I promise to entertain, as well as continue with my mission to improve my own life and in turn improve yours. Somehow, something I say or do will inspire or motivate you to make a positive change in your life. I will share my experience in life as single mom, with fitness, recipes, and somewhere within those realms you might find something that you can relate to.

I always welcome comments, questions, suggestions and the like. My entire being involves around relating to humankind. If you're human (or a cat...I do love cats) then speak up and give me something to ponder. Thanks for reading! :)