#30daysofrunning

Im two days into the #30daysofrunning and I feel good. It really isnt that far from my comfort zone at this point, talk to me on day 6 or day 8. I am excited to see how far I can push my body. I am looking to shed a few more pounds before October, gain some muscle tone and develop a routine with my running. I don’t see any problem with running every day, it sounds exciting, something new.

If there is one thing that this weight loss journey has taught me, it is to be patient, let the weight come off, flucuate at the pace that it does. I gained this weight in 10 years, it has taken me almost 3 years to take it off. I look back on those fad diets, and quick fixes and I think of all the heartache, the defeat that I felt time after time, losing and gaining back more.

I owe my life to running. Running has allowed me to maintain. It has allowed me to eat what I desire on the weekends, restrict and follow my clean eating and 1,200 calorie diet during the week. It has boosted my metabolism, so that I keep burning on the off days. It has improved my mind state, it destresses me, it has improved me in almost every single aspect of my life. It burned that horrible cloud of PPD, that haunted me.

So, I am owing this month to the one thing that has been my constant for almost two years. Running. I will run for 30 days, maybe a mile, maybe less than a mile, maybe more than a mile. But I will run. Who wants to join in? hashtag your facebook or instagram with #30daysofrunning, respond here and take the challenge and cheer each other on!

a newcomer

 

After a long waited arrival, we finally welcomed our new crosley into our home this week. I was aware of how much I missed having a turntable in the house. But, I wasn’t aware of how emotional it would be for me.

All of my records that I spent most of my thrifting-teenage years, collecting, had been taken to my mom’s house, years ago when I moved in with George. I didn’t have a “spot” for them, and then life happened and I just never brought them back. Only to be tinkered with on those rare visits with my mom. And then with the passing of my mother, and along with all of the other things that I wish that I could have saved from that house, the records and turntable stayed there. And as horrible as it sounds, I would rather start new, than have to step foot in that house ever again.

So, I looked and looked for these last few years that my mom has been gone, recollecting in my mind, which albums are missing and what style appealed to me. I tried thrift store after thrift store and apparentely all the good ones have been picked up, because there were none that I desired. And then I finally bit the bullet and said, I will just buy a new one. And Crosley it was.

So, on a warm summer night, the boys and I holed up in my bedroom, with the few albums that I hung onto, lying around us, and they listened to ‘Free Bird’ on vinyl for the first time. And their eyes lit up and they smiled and they wanted to touch that spinning record and change the record and touch the arm and turn it up and so forth. They were curious little boys and it made my heart instantly joyful. We listened to Bob Dylan, Fleetwood Mac, Joan Baez, Lynard Skynard.

And then as Vincent tottered off to find his daddy, I put Lynard Skynard back on and placed it where Simple Man starts. And I stood there with my Georgie, him standing on the bed, and I slow danced with him. To our song. I swayed with him and I held his long lanky body, and really felt like the world couldn’t get any better at that moment. If that was all the satisfaction that I recieved from that turntable, well then it is the best purchase I have ever made.

 

currently | in our nest | us and the kids

reading: the stand, old issues of Martha Stewart. || lots of alphabet worksheets and spanish books prepping for Kindergarten.

eating: lots of fresh fruit, as summer emerges from spring. accenting a lot of dishes with lime, avocado and cilantro. lots of fish and grilled chicken. || eating at the kitchen table, trying new things like bbq chicken and rice with soy sauce.

drinking: water, water and more water. with lime, with cucumber, with watermelon. Green tea, with raspberry, plain, with peach juice. || drinking less milk and more water for these active boys!

wishing: for that Crosley Record player. || wishing for more park visits and that Disneyland and “the sand” would hurry up and ger here.

praying: that little guardian angels were with all those children in the Oklahoma Tornado tragedy. || every night at the dinner table. whether the prayer is small or big, or silly or significant, it comes from the mouths of babes and that is important.

dreaming: of Jamaica, and clear blue waters, and tiki torches, banana pancakes and big tropical leaves. || of tball and that it would just last forever.

giving: myself the benefit of the doubt. I am way too hard on myself. I need to learn to relax and give myself that time to make a mistake, not beat myself up about it. || our older and less used toys to our younger cousins.

recieving: encouragement. I am only 16 pounds away from my current weight loss goal. And that feels amazing. thanks to all of my family and friends whom have encouraged me along this long but actually short journey! || quarters and dimes for little chores and being helpful. <3

running | love

so, I fell in love with running all over again, after running my first 5k yesterday.

who gets up at 4 in the morning, drives an hour and a half to San Diego, stands in the cold waiting to run up the steep hills of downtown SD? me. and I loved every second of it. Well, except that REALLY steep hill, when I looked up and the sun blinded my eyes, and I felt like I was staring into total oblivion, and that not even my sister-in-law ran. You can leave that part out, I didn’t exactly LOVE that part.

but the camaraderie, of thousands of runners, all there for the same reason, was intense and at times, overwhelming. i don’t mean to make this post all flowery, but the experience was life altering and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t moved to almost tears.

running has given me the courage and confidence to face my weight loss head on. it has allowed me balance, a way to release all those years of stress and depression. it has given me my life back and I am eternally grateful to it.

when I started running, I could not even run 30 seconds. so crossing that finish line was a victory, not only because I cut my time down almost 5 minutes from a run previous in the week, but it was an internal, personal, emotional and life changing victory. i started and i finished it and it was awesome.

so running,

here goes,

I love you,

for the feeling you give me

when I am all spirit

and no legs

and the music is pumping through my body,

and the beat is in line with my steps and my heart.

the freedom,

the confidence,

the humility,

the defeat and the triumph.

 

currently | in our nest

trying:

to beat this cold. this horrible bone chilling, shiver me timbers, cold. my nose is running, and I am feverish one minute and freezing the next. poor vincent is trying to beat his cough, too. if it weren’t for this terrible wind we have today, I might actually get warm. until then, english breakfast tea will have to do.

listening:

to these guys way too much. i could listen to them all day and never tire of their albums.

obsessed:

with Young House Love. as we transition into renovating and remodeling our 1979 track home, I am finding more and more gems and inspiration from their site. i really cannot wait to get ride of all of our counter tops and wall paper. but I am looking forward to cleaning up our beautiful brick fireplace with a great mirror like this! and I am in general completely obsessed with Urban colony.

planning:

vinnie’s third birthday, (how did that happen). he has made it clear that he wants a ca-chow (Cars) birthday party at once again, Chuck-e-cheese. how can you say no?

monster jam at the end of the month. a day full of tailgating with the trailer,  junk food and 20 foot trucks and mud.

and pre-registering georgie for kinder. i won’t go into details for fear that I will tail spin into a horrible fit of tears and self depracating about whether he will be ready at the tender age of four. let’s just save that for another post and bottle of wine.

reading:

the boys are currently reading lots of dr. suess and I am reading about the white house boys. a really sad depiction of a boys correctional facility in the early 50’s.

discovering:

that when I slow down, great things happen. like embroidery. and cup cozy’s. and mustaches. some new items will be coming to the shop soon.

preparing:

the garden. i took down the old vine and tilled the land this weekend while it wasn’t too freezing outside. i will be ordering my heirlooms from d. landreth soon. looking forward to variety in the tomato garden this year. grapes, cherries, big boys, zebras and cherokee’s are on my list. and for the boys, well they want to grow strawberries and carrots.

 

Losing

It takes a lot to finally look yourself in the face and say, ” you’re fat”, and then do something about it. It takes years of losing and gaining, it takes 2 years of postpartum depression, it takes being weighed at the doctors office one last time and seeing a number that you’ve never seen in your whole life, to finally wake up.

My weight gain was gradual, the lowest weight that I can remember being happy at, was right around 186 at 5’8 in 2000. I had just met George, I wasn’t skinny by all means, but I was really comfortable with my body. I don’t ever remember feeling disgusted by my body, George was attracted to me. Things were good.

And then came birth control in 2003. Like so many other women, birth control was my initial downfall. I was young, didn’t understand proper nutrition, especially with taking birth control. I gained 20 pounds in my first couple of months and then over the course of a few years, my weight fluctuated.

In 2006 I lost the weight with an amazing eating plan and running, something that I would use again. I finally got down to 198, the lowest in years! But with the stresses of my mother being ill and the wedding, I remember being 215 the day we got married.

Right after the wedding I became pregnant with Georgie. Weight again fluctuated afterwards, but soon after I became pregnant with Vincent. Georgie was 10 months old. I don’t remember becoming huge with Vincent. I remember hovering around 213-216 for the longest time. I think I topped out at 223. I dramatically lost the weight, with the help of breast feeding and running after a toddler. I remember feeling good about myself those few weeks after being postpartum , and then Georgie’s night terrors began, and my supply dwindled and that grey cloud that I knew so well slowly rolled in. I was put on Zoloft and from June of 2010 to October of 2010, my weight skyrocketed to 256.

I can wear my weight pretty well, but at my most heaviest in the first two pictures, I admit I was almost oblivious to it, until I was weighed that morning. I remember thinking, that scale is wrong, it has to be wrong. Then, I stepped back and looked at myself, wearing size 20 pants, squeezing into size 18’s. I wasn’t able to wear some of my nicer clothes because my arms were to big to fit in them.

I will spare you the ugly details of the crying and emotional breakdown after that. But my decision to lose started at that moment.

I began with activity. I really do think that Vincent saved me. Having a number two, it doesn’t really give you a choice of whether you are active or not. I just remember getting off of the couch and doing a little more. And then slowly food choices came, like not drinking as MUCH soda, eating smaller portions. These changes brought me down to 226. In the spring of 2012, I downloaded an app that I heard a few friends talk about. C25K. It was a running app. I remembered liking running, wethat it helped me shed some weight for the wedding, but I by all means was NOT a runner or a jogger, hardly a walker. But I started it anyways. I jogged with two kids in a double stroller, up hill, no running gear, just my heart. I poured my soul into those workouts and slowly over the course of a weight loss challenge with my coworkers and then another in the fall of 2012, I got down to 196.

A few things helped accelerate my weight loss. I incorporated that meal plan philosophy that I used years ago, this time having an understanding of portions, carbs, proteins, etc. I also incorporated with the running, crossfit style exercises. These are helping me cut through the fat and define my muscles. I have a thigh shelf now and calve muscles, and so forth.

I know that compared to some and in the opinion of some, I may not be a perfect size. I am not focused on that anymore. I have 10 more pounds to lose before I reach my goal. And then after that, I don’t have another weightless goal.

My goal for 2013 was to run often. At least 5-6 days a week. If I do that, everything else should follow suit, my diet will remain light, my attitude will benefit from the stress relief, and that should definitely influence my relationships and marriage with positive results.

I will not be gaining this weight back. I am in this for the long run. I think this might be where so many go wrong with weight loss. They want a result in 2 months and then wonder why they gain it all back after their event, occasion that they lost it for. Although it has taken me a lifetime to pack this weight on and take it off, I am glad that it has been gradual. I needed to learn how to eat, learn how to love running, see these benefits in slow motion, study them. It really is a lifestyle change when you choose to lose. I have lost a part of me and gained back an even better Shannon.

xo s.

2 and 4

Two and four. my babies are growing up before thine own eyes.

Georgie turned 4 yesterday and I will admit, it was hard. It was bittersweet to remember the night before I gave birth to him. Every year, I slip into that fog of trying to remember the pain, grilling my husband on why he never gave into my pleas to take me to the hospital, (long story, read the many moons ago post about Georgie’s birth story), relishing in that prideful moment when I finally gave birth to him. I was emotional that evening and then that day, as I spent the day home with both boys, baking and taking a trip to feed the duckies, per request of the birthday boy.

I held Georgie in my arms, I told him admist my falling tears, how much I loved him. How the birth of my first born son, still moves me to tears, and knocks me on my butt, and how I was so very thankful for his life. Meanwhile, Georgie looked at me with his big hazel eyes and eyed me specutively. I am sure he thought I was crazy. Just when I think I have this whole parenting thing figured out, my kid turns 4 and it throws me for a loop. Isn’t this stuff only supposed to happen when they turn the ‘big ones’?

So here are some updates on the brothers torres.

Georgie: He can count to 20/30 on a good day, knows his colors, knows MOST of his alphabet, is starting to get a sassy, know it all attitude, which inlcudes some stunners like; “well, then Vincent why don’t you?”, “Then you can stay home, then”, “I told you”. Most of this sassiness is directed at his brother. And although we are working on it, I can’t help but smile when he dishes these gems out. He currently loves his scooter, continues to amaze us with his skill in baseball. I can’t wait to place him in T-ball. Next month he will begin Karate, which I am beyond excited about. He loves anything to do with Monster Jam, adores my new Ipad and his ‘running game’. He is a inquisitive boy and constantly asking questions. I am using the fact that he is a sponge to my advantage and stuffing him with as much information as I can. He is almost 100% poddy trained, only sometimes having to wear a diaper at night, but then he usually wakes up to use the restroom anyways.

Vincent: My little firecracker up and poddy trained within two weeks! He is doing so well! He has had a few accidents here and there, but I am SO happy to report that I am SO close to eliminating diapers from our lives for GOOD! His speech is picking up, he is mimicing our words more and his vocabulary is really starting to grow, which I tend to remember Georgie doing at this age, too. He has learned how to manage a scooter as well. He continues to ride his tri-cycle with ease, so much more than Georgie ever did. He currently is in love with Puss and Boots, Toy Story and Cars.

My babies are growing up into little men, but they will always be my babies.

traditions

“Without tradition, art is a flock  of sheep without a shepherd. Without innovation, it is a corpse.” – Winston Churchill

tradition has always been deep rooted in my soul. maybe it springs from moving so much when I was younger, not having a stable, rooted foundation to call on. when I was younger, I hung on to every morsel of tradition that my grandparents offered. and I swore when I grew up and had a family of my own, I would value traditions and I would offer my children something special in their lives. Something that they could look back on and say, ” Our family has been doing that for years!”.

George and I made a small tradition when we got married. We made a pact that we would eat at the dining room table every night, talk to each other, ask each other how our day was, etc. I can honestly say that we have stuck to the tradition wonderfully. It is a constant that we can look forward to each evening.

And then within the first few years, tradition kept on coming. Camping in Glamis Dunes became a tradition, first for the Thanksgiving Holiday and a way to spend our Anniversary (November 17th), then Spring for President’s Day and then most recently, Halloween, too.

Then on top of the tradition of camping in Glamis for Thanksgiving, came the tradition of picking out our Christmas Tree, that following day that we return. And even though my husband is dog tired from hauling 6 + hours coming home from Glamis, he still gets the decorations down from the attic, and drives us to the lot to pick out our 8 foot tree.  we have done this for the last 4 years and I look forward to it every year.

Then two years ago, we added apple/pumpkin picking to our list of traditions. Come fall, we head up to Oak Glen and we pick our apples, and find the roundest, grandest pumpkins to place on our front porch and then carve Halloween eve. We head to the orchard store and pick up fresh apple pies, listen to country music, hit the village fair, munch on sweet and spicy almonds (that barely last down the hill), take pony rides, and watch the bees buzz like crazy over the fresh organic, just pressed apple juice.

these are the memories that I live for. these are the memories that make our family what we are. these are the memories that I hope make my sons proud one day.

xo s.

the tale of the baby bird and the tomato bush

This is a short story, based on the many baby Mockingbirds that find their way into our garden each year. And the very angry Mama birds that squawks at us as we try and rescue them. Enjoy.

 

The baby bird and the tomato bush.

Sometime in the Spring.

There once was a Mama Mockingbird that lived in an Olive Tree.

There she lived, with her baby Mockingbirds.

One day, the Mama went to gather food and twigs for her babies,

And one of the baby Mockingbirds wanted to see,

how far from the tree,

it was to the ground.

But his wings were not very strong,

his feathers were very soft.

He took a leap of faith,

he was very curious,

falling through the air,

soft little tufts,

the bird,

he fell to earth.

“Well, that was not very far at all”, thought the baby Mockingbird to himself, as he puffed out his chest.

“Now I want to see how far it is from the tree,

to that window over there that I see.”

He hopped and struggled over to the wooden shingles on the side of the house,

He mustered up all his strength and flapped,

and flapped,

and closed his eyes,

shut so tight,

and all his flapping and all his might,

there he stood,

on both 0f his baby bird feet,

he didn’t move a slight.

“All this flapping has got me nowhere,

and boy I am feeling tired and hungry”.

Beyond the baby Mockingbird’s view was a beautiful, lush garden.

He could hear the hummingbirds  sing,

the bees buzz,

the worms move,

the tomato bushes rustling in the breeze.

The baby Mockingbird hopped and flapped into the garden,

and hopped right into a cool puddle of water,

not too deep,

just enough for the baby Mockingbird to drink.

And there was a worm in sight,

and a tiny tomato had fallen in his path, too.

“This is great!” baby Mockingbird exclaimed.

“I have shade, water, food, I have everything I need down here!”

“Why would anyone want to fly?”

The baby Mockingbird explored his surroundings,

he met a Caterpillar named Charles,

a lady bug named Diana,

a not-so-friendly tomato worm named Felix.

He laid in the shade,

He nibbled on the sprouting carrots,

the peppers.

Baby Mockingbird grew sleepy after his garden supper,

the sun was setting,

and he knew he had to be somewhere,

but he couldn’t remember.

Out of the sunshine and blue and pink sky,

he heard a cry,

again,

and again.

“Why does that sound, sound so right?”

Baby Mockingbird hopped and flapped,

out of the shade,

and into the light.

He looked into the sky and there he could see,

Mama Mockingbird,

high in the sky.

“That sound, that sounds is for me!”

“That is my mommy!”

“I am coming mommy! Here I am! Can’t you see me?”

The baby bird hopped,

and flapped,

and chirped.

But to no avail,

he didn’t make it far at all.

Then out of the sky came two soft hands,

And then it was dark,

and then slivers of light,

and then dark again,

and then a tiny pinhole of light.

“I think he’s lost”, said something beyond the hands.

“His nest is over there, in that Olive Tree”, said another voice beyond the darkness.

And the baby Mockingbird was lifted,

high into the pink and blue sky,

into the quiet shade,

and branched nest,

to his home.

And the Mama and Baby Mockingbird,

cuddled up together,

in their little nest home,

“I love you, baby bird, I was so scared that you were gone.”

“I love you, Mama bird, It wasn’t really that great without you down there.”

“One day, baby bird, you will fly and it will be easier without me.”

And the Mama and baby snuggled in for the night.

The End.

 

-Shannon Torres

 

a quiet holiday.

The Fourth of July came and went without much fuss. Early in the morning, George raised our American flag and California State flag on our trailers flag pole. I placed a single yellow rose in 7 mason jars, made a red, white and blue craft. The grandparents hit the beach for the day and we stayed home, relished in the quiet solace of two and a half hour naps, (both boys, same time, a complete rarity), felting in the afternoon, a nap for hardworking daddy, bar-b-que’ing in the evening as the boys rode their tricycles and ate chips out of the bag, and then watching the sparklers from our front yard, the boys in their pajamas,  joined by friends, laughing and talking over our bowls full of strawberry shortcake .

And as I do every year, I remembered my beloved bird, Sassy. She passed 6 years ago on the fourth of July. I was so fond of her, and I miss her very much, even 6 years later. I miss her little bird kisses and her nuzzling, her “mating” signals that she would give to George.  She was such a sweet bird, a sweet companion, so fond of George and I.  She was our feather baby before our babies came along. I miss her so much, that even now, and looking towards the future, I don’t know if I will ever be able to bring another bird into our family. She is and was irreplaceable.

It was in short, a great, relaxing holiday.

<3 me