Gift Ideas from Mama Sweat

Amazon just sent me an email notifying me that my order has shipped. That particular order (there will be more as the month goes on) contains five (5!) copies of Charlotte Hilton Anderson's new book, The Great Fitness Experiment. I'm a huge fan of Charlotte's and I have referred Mama Sweat reader's to her blog (by the same name) on numerous occasions. I can say with certainty if you've ever read her blog, you've laughed out loud. The book does the same. I had the good fortune to read an advance copy and I loved it cover to cover. Don't expect this fitness book to give you all the proper pointers and know how for "great fitness." This is not a how-to-get-fit book. This book might possibly be the first in a new genre: fitness memoir. And Charlotte's let-it-all-out honesty takes you to her dark places (some serious exercise addiction) while still allowing you to laugh at the absurd situations she finds herself in at the gym. Imagine Lucille Ball working out with TRX. That's what I'm talking about. A fun read and the perfect stocking stuffer. Since Charlotte and I are practically neighbors I'll be asking her to sign all of my copies. One for me, three as yet undesignated, and one I am happy to send to a Mama Sweat Reader. What do you have to do, you ask? Head on over to the Facebook Fan Page for Hot (Sweaty) Mamas, "like" the page (if you haven't already), and share your perfect gift idea for the Hot (Sweaty) Mama, ie, yourself. I will randomly pick a winner (and random may just be the gift idea I like most...)

Speaking of perfect gift ideas, here's one you might want to start hint-hinting about, if you're like me--not much of a scrapbooker--and prefer to preserve the memories of your children in the written word. Can you imagine yourself on a winter writing retreat in the big woods of Wisconsin? Some snow-shoeing, hot cocoa, a roaring fire, and time to reflect and write. Kate Hopper, your writing retreat guide, explains it:

Join me for a weekend retreat for mother-writers. We'll write, share our writing, discuss challenges with craft, and have time to connect with other mother writers in the luxury and quiet of Faith's Lodge. Group meetings and individual conferences will help support you as you delve more deeply into your writing and learn to take risks on the page. Come immerse yourself in the writing life with other mothers who write.

Not only will you enjoy the beauty of Faith's Lodge, but proceeds from the retreat will benefit the good works of Faith's Lodge. That's one of those gifts that keeps on giving. You can learn more about the retreat (or use it to lay down some serious hints) at Kate Hopper's website.

One more gift idea while I'm on a roll. Got daughters? Nieces? Friends with daughters or special young girls in your life. Look no further than the award-winning Go Go Sports Girls! Cute, inspiring and ready to move: Choose their favorite activity--running, basketball, dance, soccer, golf, swimming, softball, gymnastics. Yes! Active dolls for active kids!

Decide to Be Happy

True happiness is plain to see in the smile of a child.

Isn't it good timing on my part that I was able to get happy and adjust my attitude right before Thanksgiving? Phew. And I am grateful (but not as grateful as my children who are relieved to get "fun" mom back).

As a follow up to my post a few weeks ago about my fall funk, I mentioned five steps to unfunkify myself, and now need to add the ONE thing that ultimately helped me.*

It's free and accessible to everyone.

It's not complicated or time consuming.

Although it may not work for everyone, it can't hurt, or make you sick or cause bad side effects.

It's this:

Decide to be happy.

Revolutionary isn't it?

I thought the treatment plan was wholly original, until I unpacked the final box in our office (by unpack I mean the contents of said box are now in a pile on the office floor) and found an index card with some scribbles on it, which I've had in my possession for at least 20 years, likely much longer. The title of the poem? "Decide to Be Happy." I can't remember where I copied it from, but my instincts tell me it came from a piece of paper tucked into one of the books I inherited from my Great-Grandmother. My index card doesn't credit an author, but thanks to the infinite wisdom of the world wide web, I found him: Robert Muller, who worked for the United Nations promoting world peace. Incidentally, Dr. Muller died this year on September 20, the eve of World Day of Peace.

I think this poem, which has been in my view or within reach for so long, has permeated my subconscious (a vision board before vision boards were cool). All credit to Robert Muller:

Decide to be happy

Render others happy

Proclaim your joy

Love passionately your miraculous life

Do not listen to process

Do not wait for a better world

Be grateful for every moment of life

Switch on and keep on

the positive buttons in yourself,

those marked optimism,

serenity, confidence,

positive thinking, love

Pray and thank God every day

Meditate - Smile - Laugh

Whistle - Sing - Dance

Look with fascination at everything

Fill your heart and lungs with liberty

Be yourself fully and immensely

Act like a king or queen unto Death

Feel God in your body, mind, heart and soul

And be convinced of eternal life and resurrection.

Good words to live by. And with that I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving and send you into this holiday season with good cheer.

*I realize the decision to be happy is sometimes achieved with medication. Plenty of people need it, and making the decision to take antidepressants is in it's own way deciding to be happy.

Addendum: Shortly after posting this I opened my newspaper to find an article about happiness and Dan Buettner. His new book called "Thrive" is about the happiest places on earth to live. A lot of it is in the genes, he said, which bodes well for my children because both of their grandparents have lived or are living in two of the four profiled happiest places on earth!

To Hell in a Handbasket (or Gym Bag)

I am a true believer that parents are the strongest role models for our children and I'm counting on that to raise fit kids. Sometimes I notice my kids emulating my behavior, other times I don't see a correlation at all (as in, what spaceship did you come from?).

Today at the gym, the emulating came through loud and clear. Loud and clear.

In the childcare center my beautiful darling M was looking for her baby brother and belted out, "Where the hell is B?"

I froze. Did she just say? As if to answer me she said it again, louder this time:

"Where the HELL is B?"

Naturally, I grabbed her by the neck pulled her close and looked up to see if anyone heard. (And withheld the urge to say, "What the hell did you just say?") Oh yes, people heard and acknowledged me with their eyeballs.

I swear I don't talk like that in front of my kids. Wait. Let me rephrase that. I try mightily to contain my potty mouth in front of impressionable children. Sometimes (does this go without saying?) I slip. The lesson here is that those little sponge brains are paying close attention. And you can't censor everything. They will pick up all the good stuff you want them to, but they'll also pick up all the little ugly bits you didn't intend for them to inherit. And you sure as hell better hope there is a lot more good stuff than ugly bits.

I'm the Hot Mama (from hell, apparently) of the week over at www.hotandhealthymama.com. If you pop over you'll have to check out the recipe for spaghetti squash spaghetti. It. Looks. So. Good. And there's a whole section of the site devoted to cocktails, dubbed "Mommy's Medicine Cabinet."

I could sure use a drink. I've had a helluva day.

***I have a quick addition to this post after my mom called this morning (now Tuesday) with a funny and related story. She was in a hotel elevator this weekend going down to the lobby, marked "L" on the elevator. The elevator stopped on another floor and three elderly women got in. My mother asked them, "Are you going to L?" And one of the women gasped and said, "What?" So my mother, thinking they were hard of hearing, asked again, louder: "Are you going to L?" And then they laughed. One woman said, "Oh, you said L, I thought you said hell!" And another old lady said, "I was just wondering how you knew!"

When Body Hair is a Drag

News flash: I've made it to my swim class two weeks in a row. Is it safe to call it a routine?

The class works well with my already scheduled life and the swim coach is mom-centric and forgiving. In fact, she has said she only wants her swimmers (mostly women, mostly moms) to come to class once a week between now and January, because paying for more than that and attempting to come more than that might leave you feeling cornered and needing to quit altogether when the holiday push hits and you can't make it to all those classes you paid for. How sensible is that? So, she won huge points right there, assuring me that my once-a-week swim workout was enough for now.

And here's another reason why I need to start slow. Because I forgot how much work it is to be "prepared" for swim class. Thinking ahead? Not my strong suit. Now Wednesday's post-run shower must also be my pre-swim hair removal session. Good grief. It's winter. I need that hair to stay warm. And after all that personal grooming over the summer, I like to take a few months off.

Oh blabitty blah, I hear you whispering about keeping a close shave for my husband. The man has seen me birth four babies, he can handle a little leg stubble. And besides, as a triathlete, he shaves occasionally too, and his stubble is infinitely pricklier than mine.

So if I continue to make it to swim class once a week, the victory is not just in adding a swim workout to my routine, but staying bathing-suit groomed throughout the winter. I can tell you that's it's a matter of reducing drag in the water, but it's really about not embarrassing myself on the pool deck.

I'm not the only one concerned with stubble. The always hilarious Charlotte waxed on about the subject earlier this week over at The Great Fitness Experiment. Too funny to miss: Fitness 101: What To Do With Body Hair.

Making Exercise a Priority

Hi gang,

Today's post will be short and sweet as I'm occupied getting the corrections to our galley copy of "Hot (Sweaty) Mamas: Five Secrets to Life as a Fit Mom" back to our publisher. The book goes to press NEXT month. [Insert visual of me breathing into a paper bag here.]

If you want a sneak peek of some of the tidbits found in the book, let me direct you to yesterday's article in the Minneapolis Star Tribune, "Making Exercise a Priority," that featured me and the kiddos living life as a fit family.

More later!

Fall Funk

Here I am again, closing in on the impending time change feeling like my energy, productivity level, ability to stay on task and overall enthusiasm (even for the fun stuff--hello exercise!) has hunkered down in the nearest cave for impending hibernation.

It happens every year (and apparently I write about it every year). I hit the proverbial wall as the days get shorter. Fall literally feels like it falls on me, knocking me over. I want to look up and say, "What the hell?" I shouldn't be surprised and yet every year I begin October thinking I'm going to be able to outwit the darkness. By November I'm flailing. "You can't go over it, you can't go under it, you just have to go through it."

So I do, or at least I have in years past. Despite the appeal of slothfulness at this moment, I'm trying to remember how it is I get through it. So far, my list includes:

1. Give in. But only for a week. I give the finger to my alarm clock and otherwise slack off in any way as is possible for a mother of four. The highlight of my slackerness, which I allowed myself last week, was stealing a nap one afternoon while my son napped. Yes, it felt very indulgent.

2. Reintroduce myself to the dark. I do have to function before the sun gets up and after the sun goes down. That alarm goes back into commission and I use any motivation I can to get out of bed. I have discovered, in doing this, that the sunrises from my new house are spectacular and are, in fact, worth getting up for.

3. Keep exercising even when I don't feel like it. What can I say. I just don't feel like it. I know better, though. I know that if I can just move a little here and there, I will remember that exercise will be the light for the long winter months.

4. Avoid ruts. Especially when it's dark, you don't want to find yourself in a rut. Two years ago I switched it up with dancing, last year I signed up for tennis lessons. This year I'm still undecided. I plan to hit a new class at the gym tonight and try a masters swim class on Thursday. I seem to muster up motivation for something new. It better be good...

5. Stay out of the Halloween candy. For the love of Hersheys, we have waaaaay too much sugar in the house for me after our four trick or treaters hit the road last night. Let it be known I have raided the candy bags and am now searching for a way to get rid of it. The Butterfingers, like sleeping in, provides only temporary, fleeting gratification, not long-term satisfaction. Still, I allowed myself the splurge, now it's time to move on.

Any other ideas to help me through my fall funk are welcome!