Posts Tagged ‘running’

Jogging with milk-filled boobies, and nursing in public

May 18, 2008

I tried to exercise while nursing. I really did. But my daughter and I kept this relationship going for over a year-and-a-half and frankly every attempt I made was thwarted with squirting milk and leak spots on my workout shirt. So I gave it up. Which is why I’m going after this marathon thing now.

But I’m thinking more about another milestone today, because today marks the anniversary of the surgery I had that ended the nursing relationship. And I must admit I am feeling a little blue.

I look back at how complicated developing the whole nursing routine was. My daughter was a severe preemie and couldn’t grasp my oh, so huge boobies. Her oxygen tubes kind of eliminated that for several months as well. But once that O2 came off, watch out! She was a nursing fool. And not a leisurely nurser either – she got right down to it and ate and ate – making up for lost time having her milk through feeding tubes and then pumped and served to her in teeny tiny preemie bottles.

But that was the easy part. Go figure. It was trying to keep my very hungry preemie baby fed when I ventured out of my house that was the pain in the butt. Not feeding her, but the comments from all and sundry. Family members actually scolded me for nursing her in public (aren’t we a little past that already?). One family member held a blanket up around us like a huge curtain so I wouldn’t be seen (AHHH! Scarlet letter “N”!!!!).

A woman with VERY nasty breath lectured me at a local restaurant for feeding my baby at the table. Apparently her husband was offended. Side note, it was a booth, well hidden and fairly dark. And no, I never used a blanket – talk about calling attention to yourself. And it’s not like I was doing something illicit. I was feeding my child. Besides, sorry, after all that O2 I wanted my girl to have fresh air to breath. And what kind of message am I sending her at that tender young age if I am HIDING her under a blanket. No way sister.

By the way, to what I thought was my hubby’s chagrin, but I later pleasantly found out was true PRIDE, I told that bitchy woman that her breath was far more offensive to my meal than the tiny bit of boob I was flashing. And if you don’t want to see it, don’t look. She huffed away I recall (as her husband gawked from their table). He sure didn’t LOOK offended to me.

Seriously though, I had friends who have never had children (and one who had but chose not to nurse, HER choice yes, and one that our of respect for her I didn’t question, but I never understood. I seem to recall she “wanted her body back”. Hmmm, she’s in for a rude awakening.) who all had opinions. I digress. Anyway, I had friends who at one year proclaimed it time to wean.

Didn’t know I asked them to weigh in. I mean, this is the only child I will have. I am OLD. And this relationship is very special, to her from a nutritional and hopefully bonding standpoint, and for me the same. Breast-feeding lowers risks of breast cancer. The benefits to the baby are well documented. And the relationship between mother and child cannot be described.
But hey. Many people just felt the need to comment. Family, friends, the general public (I lived in a very small place at the time). And I chose to ignore them all. This was between my daughter and me and no one else.

And by the way, for those of you who suggest that nursing women should go to the bathrooms to nurse, why don’t YOU take your greasy, dripping burger and beer and try and prop your fat ass on a toilet and eat.

You don’t eat on the pot where you crap. No way in hell my baby does either.

(Wow! I just reread this. Didn’t realize I was still quite so pissed off. Oh well.)

____________________ Art imitates life, and life imitates art.

What I see every day influences what I create, so writing this blog and creating my designs are natural extensions of who I am.

If you are interested in viewing my designs, primarily for kids but also some cool stuff for adults and also doggies (who we all know are integral parts of all families) check them out at:

See you around the mountains and canyons of northern AZ!

“If you don’t laugh at life, it sneaks up and bites you in the ass!”

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The Preakness

May 17, 2008

No, I am definitely NOT starting this by comparing my limping old bod to a thoroughbred horse.  But hey!  So I ran early today – 30 minutes, not too long but my long run of the week.  Drove into the park (Grand Canyon) and ran along the rim.  SO beautiful.  I heard robins and it was crisp and cool and clear.  Lots of visitors later on, but that’s the time of year.  It’s a great thing that people care to come visit.   But I ran early so I could rush back and watch coverage of the Preakness.

My hubby and I often go to local races, and pre-baby to the local bar that has off-track betting.  I always, as I tell the hubby, “cheer for a horse to win”.  I don’t know much about horse racing – I just know I enjoy it immensely.  The smell of the track, the crackling electricity in the air at the beginning of the races, the cheering crowds, and yes, the party atmosphere are all things I enjoy as I crack pen a nice cold one and kick back.

I have friends who are very PETA-oriented and hate the thought of horse racing and rodeos.  Other friends (in northern Arizona there is a wide variety of opinions and you can literally know people from all over the spectrum, all good people, but the ability to float between the groups without offending anyone is a learned skill) are rodeo riders, current and retired and one friend even owns a portion of a racehorse.  From them I understand that most of these critters (and admittedly there are horrific exceptions to every rule) are cared for and loved and not in the least abused.

This brings me to the Preakness.  I wasn’t going to watch it.  After the loss of Eight Belles in the Derby several weeks ago, I was so saddened that I thought I’d swear off watching any more this year.  But I can’t do it.  The horses and jockeys who will compete today have worked their lives and careers for this day.  They deserve the same support as they did had Eight Belles not been lost.  But it will still be sad.

I considered briefly in the days following the Derby if there was any correlation between women in the working world and the fate of Eight Belles.  She was one of the only fillies to rise to this type of success.  Was this a parallel for women in corporate America?  In any workplace?  Is the fate of Eight Belles significant to us all?

I pondered it, and possibly there is a link there.  But I had to eventually let it go.  It was just too sad to consider such a beautiful animal lost so tragically.  And I want to share this love of horses and exciting time of year with my daughter.  She already loves horses and mules and ponies.  She has ridden a tiny pony named Sprinkles at the county fair.  She has t-shirts with horses (I’m still working on getting that drawing right for my site, so for now other critters have to suffice).  He plays pony on her stick horse.  I want her to grow up thinking watching the pretty horses is fun, and not tragic.  She has the rest of her life to learn about tragedy.

I just hope I can protect her from it as long as possible.

__________________Art imitates life, and life imitates art.

What I see every day influences what I create, so writing this blog and creating my designs are natural extensions of who I am. 

If you are interested in viewing my designs, primarily for kids but also some cool stuff for adults and also doggies (who we all know are integral parts of all families) check them out at:

See you around the mountains and canyons of northern AZ!

“If you don’t laugh at life, it sneaks up and bites you in the ass!”

Being a Mom

May 14, 2008

I spent the last two hours simultaneously trying to hold down an angry, scared toddler while trying to pull a splinter from her foot.  It didn’t work.  We ended up at the doctor’s office where it took three nurses PLUS me and two shots of pain killer to get it out.  She recovered pretty quickly after though – lots of treats did the trick!

So my question is, to a toddler, having someone poking around in your foot for a splinter is the scariest thing ever.  Yet she recovered in minutes as if nothing had happened.  What has happened to us as adults that we hold on to hurts, physical and emotional for so long?  Have we lost the resiliency that children possess?

Take my marathon training for example.  Yesterdays went SO well, but I woke up this morning stiff and sore and convinced I couldn’t do it.  My daughter wouldn’t think that – she’d just get up and go.  What is it in children that grown-ups lack?  When do we lose that sense of invincibility?

Maybe it is common sense that settles in around 21 or so (in me closer to 31).  Or maybe it is the responsibilities that come with being an adult – having a job, paying the bills.  Or maybe it is that we actually did lose something, some sense of wonder that the world will always end up OK.

I don’t know for sure.  What I do know is that a toddler can be one of the best teachers.  They love all, forgive all, and when grumpy, eventually, after going limp baby on you, embrace all.  Maybe we all need to be more like our kids.


SNOW AT GRAND CANYON – May 13, 2008!

May 13, 2008

So, I just shoveled off five inches of snow from the drive, cars, etc. My husband woke me up and told me – FIVE INCHES! HA! Let me sleep old man. But no, he didn’t jest.

Will the marathon mom brave the cold morning snow to complete her second run? Hell no. I’m waiting ’til afternoon (or evening) to give this stuff a chance to melt off a bit.

It is pretty though.

But in MAY? spring snow

Anyway, the canyon should be beautiful today. Hopefully it will be warm enough to put the little one in the stroller and just wander aimlessly about showing her snow…

Apparently northern Arizona is blanketed in the fluffy white stuff.

Recovery Day #1

May 13, 2008

I went out to stretch this morning before work. I headed to the Grand Canyon rim and looked out over the horizon. The ravens were soaring overhead, flying and dipping in apparent ecstasy at the sunrise. The early spring wildflowers were in bloom, and the air was clean and crisp. It felt like the Grand Canyon was welcoming us all, ravens, flowers, bunny rabbits, with open arms and love.

Then I tried to stretch my stiff hamstrings. All the beauty around me could not compare to the agony in that one little stretch. Yes, this was day two of my marathon training, or as I call it my first of many “Days of Pain and Agony”. I know, I know. I want to do this – and I will. But I have complain at least a little.

Although I must admit, being able to look out over the canyon while I stretch out my sore muscles did eventually lessen the pain a bit. At least for while.

Tune in tomorrow for a recap of running day number two. I’m set for about twenty more minutes. Stay tuned and see if I make it…

By the way, you may have noticed by now that I am a designer and also a mommy who is working at staying home with my little one by designing and selling ultra-cool, hip, custom clothes. Seriously, check out my site: Do you want something custom designed for yourself or your little one? Do you want a special shirt for YOUR big race? Let me know on this blog and we’ll make it happen for you!

Remember MOMS ROCK! You are strong and a champion. Train hard, shop hard, live hard, love intensely!


May 12, 2008

Happy Mother’s Day to everyone out there! I did my first run today. Ah, the weather was clear and breezy, I saw a California condor overhead as I ran along the edge of Grand Canyon. It was beautiful. Of course, I only ran (limped, hobbled) twenty minutes, which incidentally, felt like 120. How am I going to run 26.2 miles?
My shirt was sweaty and smelly, but at the end of it all, I felt like a champ!

Marathon Mom has arrived!

May 11, 2008

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OK, so I decided my little one needs a good mommy role model. Yeah, I would prefer to plop my ass down in front of TV and watch a good rerun of “Eureka” on the SciFi channel, and eat a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey, but what message would that really send?  No, I have decided to do the unthinkable – I am training for a marathon.  And not the ice cream eating kind.

I have actually been a runner off and on my whole adult life.  I ran track in high school, kind of.  I was mostly a “jumper” in a school that prided itself on its long-distance trainers and hurdlers.  The jumpers (high, long and triple) kind of hung out on the mats, jogged around and usually ended up sharing a stromboli uptown while everyone else ran their butts off.  That was my track experience.  It was later, in northern Arizona that I discovered the runner’s high (for me, this was usually followed but an insatiable quest for pizza and beer), but still, I ran.  And then I quit for several years.  And then the Olympics (or a random track and field event on television) would get me going again.  It never became a habit.  It never became something I enjoyed.

But I became a Mom of “older gestational age” at 38 a few years ago and after that marathon, I decided I could truly do anything I set my mind to.   I mean, why not?  I have many friends who have crossed that finish line.  Besides, I didn’t want my little one to wake up one day and wonder why Mom’s butt was wider than the fridge.  Besides, she’s fast.  And she’s a little monkey.  I needed some speed and stamina to keep up with her.

And so this blog is dedicated to that purpose.  To share with you my training, my pain (and I expect I’ll be complaining a lot about the pain), my joys, and my accomplishments. 

And so, WELCOME!  I hope you all decide to join in to the conversation, and share your training stories, as well as your Mommy stories.  It’s all fair game here (but keep it clean please!).  Hopefully those of us training for the first time will encourage each other and take advice and strength from those who have already completed this mission.  Also, we can share our stories of painful butt muscles and Ben & Jerry binges. 

The training starts tomorrow ladies.  I am starting with a 16 week schedule to get me in shape for the actual 16 week marathon schedule.  We’ll start running four days per week at the beginning. 

Let the pain begin!  We can take it!!!!!!!

Check out my very cool designs at  Feel free to make design suggestions on anything from kidwear to your very own uniquely designed marathon tee!