On returning

Hello friends.

I'm not quite sure what to say. It's been so long since I've shared my adventures (such as they are) with you. One moment I was busy blogging and sharing my goals and projects, and the next moment I was closing my computer and stepping back. It just didn't feel right anymore, and I'll tell you why. 

Things sucked.

Now before you kindly reassure me that I'm so lucky to have had the time off from the stress and chaos of full-time school or that I am blessed to have the experience of staying home with my daughters, please know that I know all this. And in between all the times my year off from school has sucked, I've loved the time I've spent with my children, and the quiet hours at home while they're at school. But this doesn't change how I've felt this past year, and I don't want to brush these feelings aside anymore.  

I had taken a break from my midwifery program for a few different reasons, but mostly it was about taking a year or so to become my healthiest self. Midwifery is demanding, parenting is demanding, and I wasn't getting any younger. I was out of shape, in pain, struggling with my moods, and in need of a reset of sorts. I believed that I owed it to myself to spend some time getting healthier in order to both meet the demands of life and to enjoy the hell out of it.

But then life got hard and I wasn't ready for it. There I was, with all this time in front of me, and yet I couldn't seem to find a single moment with which to devote to the changes I knew I needed to make to my life. Yes I was working and spending a lot of time with my girlies, but I also had a lot of freedom that just brimmed with possibilities. I would go to bed at night with big goals and plans for the next day, but then the next day would come and nothing. All I felt was unmotivated, grumpy, and still out of shape, in pain, and struggling with my moods. Nothing seemed to change. So I'd just take a nap and see if tomorrow was better. And it wasn't.

Looking back, there were many reasons why I felt so low this year. It was a shock to my system to go from a hectic midwifery placement to life at home and I needed more for an adjustment period than I realized. I was struggling with Alyce and all of her new eight-year-old needs. I'm not the greatest at self-motivation. And also--the biggest reason--change is fucking hard.  

But here are a few things that I've learned about myself this year:

• It's dangerous to spend too much time on my own. I am one of those tricky extroverted introverts and if I'm not careful I'll stay home in a quiet house for too many days in a row. Do you know what I do while I'm home by myself (besides obsessively clean)? I dwell. I sit on the couch and dwell. And that's not good for anyone. I have the kind of job where I work by myself, but even leaving the house to go work in a coffee shop or library forces me out a good rut. And friends--I need more time with my friends. They soothe my soul.
• I need get more exercise. I've surprised myself lately with regular walks and I'm always in a better and more productive place after these excursions. Fresh air + moving my body cures so many ills. 
• I need structure. Like I REALLY need structure. Cue my husband rolling his eyes because all he ever does is tell me this.
• I'm a good parent. While Alyce might find it terribly annoying that I'm around all the time, I know deep down that she's needed me this year. Shira has been overjoyed by my omnipresence and it's nothing short of magic to be loved that hard. 
• I need to be okay with doing hard things. I started the year with so many big goals and then I crumbled under the pressure because it was difficult. It isn't easy to quit smoking or to change how you eat. But I'm starting to see that life won't fall apart just because things get hard. I have to believe that I'm stronger than I realize. 
• I really just want to be a midwife. How wonderful that I've taken this year off school and realized just how badly I want to be a midwife!  
• It's okay to take a year off and hate it.

So why am I back? Because I think I'm feeling better. I have four months left before I return to school and I'm ready--really ready--to move forward. Spring is in the air, there's sunshine on my face, and I'm ready to go. I've decided to show up here and again and share my days and efforts and challenges with you all over again. Maybe you are too, and we can do this together.

Get ready for goals you guys. 

Be well!

xo

Another month, another plan

Hello friends. If you've been following on since the summer, you know that I've been trying to make some really big health changes. The short version of the story is that I have fibromyalgia and depression, and the consequence for me is feeling as though I inhabit the physical body of an unhealthy 98 year old, instead of the healthy and vibrant 38 year old that I so badly want to be. Emotionally, I too often full like a slug.

The good news is that I'm unwilling to continue this way.

I want to live a long, long life. I want to be a great-grandmother one day. I also want to take on a very demanding career as a midwife,  for which I'm training now. I have chosen to believe that I can do all of these things, so here I am, willing to make the necessary changes in my life in order to allow for these dreams to come true. I have the motivation and passion to blow my own mind and succeed.

I spent an hour with my naturopathic doctor last week dreaming up a plan. Having consulted with my family doctor earlier in the week, who kindly informed me that I am currently at an increased risk for cardiovascular disease and could I please start eating better and lose some weight, I was finally ready to accept that I needed a new plan. I explained to my naturopath, who has watched me struggle now for two years, that I was feeling seriously overwhelmed by the enormity of all these changes I wanted to make, and she told me that I can do anything for a month.

Just one month.

And you know? I think she is right. I'm strong and committed and eager to feel good, so I can do this. Healthober didn't work out as planned, and that's okay. I learned a lot about myself that month and it's time to try something else.

I now have a plan. No gluten. No smoking. Exercise four times a week. Eat a ton of greens. Take my supplements (chosen for my fibromyalgia).

This one month is intended to bring about a victory. While we learn so many important things from our failures, we still also need to win sometimes. When we devised this plan we decided upon the things that had a chance to make me feel better in four weeks. This isn't to say that I'll drop my plan upon completion, or that my next steps might not look different, but I wanted my plan to be guided by reasonable, doable changes that will bring about some successes.

This plan for eating and exercise is intended to address both my physical and mental health. Gluten sensitivities have long been linked to mood problems and we all know that exercise makes us feel better. Eating real food, moving my body, and not smoking is going to have a positive impact on my life.

I am driven by a belief that I can feel better and I'll sing it from the rooftops until I do. 

Is there something you want to change, something you can do for one month? We can do this together. Share your goals and let's declare our commitments together!

Be well!

xo

Start where you are

Start where you are. I love this. As someone who likes to set goals and think about the big picture, I needed this reminder today. It's easy to get lost in all the things we want to be, but the only way to get started is to accept what you are now. Ask yourself what can you do today, just today, to accomplish your goals one step at a time. I am lucky enough to have a fridge filled with vegetables, so today I am going to cook some healthy food that includes heaps of vegetables. I am run down with a cold and need the nourishment. What a great place to start.

What can you do today?

Be well!
xo


Image Via And Then We Saved

Healthtober! Because you can do anything for a month

So I do this every time.

I did it during school and I am doing it again while on my 'break.' I am working too hard and pushing my body beyond its limits. For a month I have worked too many overnight doula shifts, too many for me, a person whose body is in need of some care. An accumulation of very little sleep + not looking after myself physically or emotionally means that I'm currently a heap of mess on the couch. Everything hurts. 

No more, I declare. Or Matty declared, last night as I was crying to him about how much it hurt to walk shuffle across the room. He looked at me with those encouraging "when are you going to make some good changes?" eyes and suggested that maybe we need a new approach. "It's time for healthy October!" he proclaimed, or more appropriately, Healthtober (trademark pending). 

Whatever you'd like to call it, join me in making October a month filled with good healthy choices, whatever that means to you. For Matty it means working to lose a few pounds and getting outside for some exercise. Let's cheer him on! For me it means getting some good sleep, eating some good food that involves a whole hell of a lot more vegetables, and cutting back my sugar intake about one billion percent, which still leaves me with a little sugar. I need a little sugar because how else am I supposed cope with not smoking, because you guys! I'm not smoking!

My Healthtober goals include:

• No gluten! As per the suggestion of my ever-patient naturopath. It's only taken me two years to actually give up gluten. Two years, guys. I'm hoping that giving up gluten might help with some of my fibromyalgia symptoms.

• Significantly less sugar. I know I might have better results with an actual limit, but I can't do it all at once. My goal is to be mindful of not reaching for sugar at every opportunity. Speaking of reducing sugar, did you see this? High fives.

• Resting when my body needs it. That means not too many overnight shifts, not going to crazy with projects at home. Gentle is the word of the month. Since I'm not great with being gentle on myself, I'll need a lot of reminders.  

• To enjoy as much of the beautiful fall weather as humanly possible. Walks, even short ones, will do me well.

 I can do this! I can do anything for a month. There are, however, two important exceptions, and by exceptions I really just mean there are two days during which I will eat gluten with abandon. Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away and it is hands down my favourite holiday, and I will be eating any and all of my mum's cooking. And at the end of the month is my birthday and there will cake--gluten and sugar-filled cake. I think that's only fair. You only turn 38 once.

So who is going to join me for Healthtober? What healthier choices would you like to make? Share your goals in the comments, or at the very least, please share your most encouraging thoughts. I'll need all the help I can get.

Be well!

xo

P.S. Do you follow me on Instagram? I'll be posting updates there as I go.

On gaining momentum

How is your week going so far? Somehow it's almost over and I'm feeling caught off guard. I guess that's what happens when you sleep through a Monday. And a Wednesday (it's been a busy week of working overnight with a particularly delicious newborn). And speaking of babies, a former birth doula client reached out today and sent me the loveliest email. It made my day and has renewed my desire to send thank you notes more often. Because doesn't it feel amazing when someone sends you a note, even just a short one, just to let you know that they appreciate you? 

I wanted to check in today and tell you about our trip to the zoo on Tuesday. Last time I took the girls it was a bit of a disaster for me physically. I wrote last time about how I could barley make it through a couple of hours on my feet before my lower half screaming and shouting in pain. It wasn't pretty. We returned home from that trip and I collapsed into bed.  I'm not sure if it was obvious then, but that was a pretty low point for me. Not being able to keep up with the girlies made me feel helpless as a parent, not to mention old, lazy, and sorry for myself.

I've had a few moments like that since being home for the summer. Driving places we should be walking, saying no to going out when we had no business staying inside on such a beautiful day. Each time I felt very powerfully that these moments where the ones that would ultimately get me to do the hard work of making changes. Because while some of you might be able to act like rational people and simply change the habits you think you need changing (like my annoying better half, who is also never late and always finishes his projects ahead of schedule), I need some gut wrenching emotional lows to really get my ass into gear.

You guys, change is hard.

While my progress has been slow-going over the summer, I did something last week that made a big impact. I bought a new pair of running shoes. They are magical! It turns out my favourite pair of sandals serve fashion only, and what I needed was the support of some fancy new bright pink running shoes. It was a small step, but one that has inspired me to get exercising again, which is kind of a big deal. You see these magical new running shoes make it possible to walk longer with quite so much pain and this meant that I walked through the zoo for three hours (and the CNE last night for almost four) without hobbling. 

I know, I know, what an obvious fix, right? But I'm realizing that these small investments into our health, the ones we keep putting off for what seem like convincing reasons at the time, can put in motion some pretty powerful change. Something I learned this week is that deep down I've been telling myself that nothing will work and I'm destined to suffer in this state of pain and low energy forever, so why bother doing all the hard work of making changes. But small steps, it turns out, can give you some very powerful momentum. Momentum is a gift that I can use to lose this crappy perspective I've been carrying around. 

What small change can you make to give yourself some much needed momentum?

Be well!

xo

eat: a manifesto

I believe everyone can use a good manifesto. Here's one of mine.

When I first wrote about my intentions for better health two months ago I named four big goals that I wanted to achieve in the coming year. I wanted to get better sleep, to move my body, to breathe more (reduce my stress), and to eat nourishing food. Each of these goals requires some pretty hefty changes to my status quo, but tackling the food I eat is one of my biggest hurdles to improving my health.

I couldn't just write a post about my intentions with regards to eating nourishing food. This one needs a manifesto. I'm not outlining an eating plan here, but more of an eating mood. Feel free to borrow it, improve upon it, or ignore it and write your own. 

Food is delightful.

I adore both brussel sprouts and butter creamed with sugar. I am moved by both lentils and ice cream, preferably really hard ice cream that you can bite into, filled with chocolate bits. And peanut butter. While I am committed to eating in a way that makes me feel well, I refuse to live in a world where some foods are valuable and others are evil. Food is about nutrition and so much more. I adore cooking for my family and friends (and I like to think I'm even good at it.) Sometimes this means that I create salads filled with vitamins and minerals and other times it means I bake a pie. I don't want to live in a world without pie. I do, however, want to have energy and feel vibrant in my body, so most days I will choose the brussel sprouts and lentils.

Advice is sometimes helpful, sometimes not.

Oh, advice. Isn't it everywhere? I mean, I think my neighbour would offer his two cents if I mentioned my goals to him, and he's an accountant. Advice can be lovely and often gives me all sorts of ideas. For example, I have a friend who gave up grains, sugar, dairy, and legumes and she feels amazing! It's definitely something for me to think about, but we're not the same person, and what works for her might not work for me.  I've read a great book about optimal eating for folks with fibromyalgia and it's filled with just as many restrictions, including avoiding a whole handful of fruits and vegetables (on account of their inflammatory properties). Again, something to think about. My naturopathic doctor has advised that I stop eating entire categories of food as well, so it's something I'm seriously considering (she says with an eye roll).

I have also received advice to not change how I eat. Maybe, they suggest, just maybe stop eating so much sugar (point taken), but everything else in moderation is the way to go! They can't possibly understand making such a radical change when it comes to food. While I give them points for recognizing how hard changes are to make, they don't know what it feels like to live in my body, with  my chronic pain and slug-like energy. It might not make sense to them, but radical change might be the answer for me.

Either way, the choice is mine to make.

Kill the day with one incredible breakfast.

This idea comes from a dear friend of mine, who suggested that in the face of all these changes to the way I eat, just start with the best breakfast possible. It's a win-win situation: I get to nourish my body with wholesome, real food while at the same time being able to feel the thrill of a victory. If I can't change everything at once (because that much change is just damn hard to do), at least I can win with breakfast. I am going to win at breakfast!

Shame is never the answer.

Have you ever read Rachel Cole's work on being a well-fed woman? She knows what she's talking about when it comes to feeding ourselves. You won't find any recipes on her blog, but you will find exquisite encouragement to feed our hungers, and none of her strategies include shame. I'm going to make a lot of changes to how I eat because my body deserves the chance to feel good. But I won't be perfect. There is just so much pressure to eat purely and the flip side is to demonize those times you eat a hunk off that gorgeous baguette. Let's declare right now, right here, that there is no one way to eat. Shaming impure eating (whatever that actually means) doesn't become us. 

My body deserves the best food possible.

It sure does. Sometimes that means a basket of organic peaches from the market (heaven) and sometimes that means scalloped potatoes cooked for me by my mother (also heaven). We all deserve food that nourishes us and I'm so, so fortunate that I can afford to fill my house with such good things. My health is the only thing that will sustain me long enough to live many, many more years and there's no playing around. In my life right now that means making food preparation a priority in my day, something I'm able to do right now as I'm taking this break from school. I will remind myself every day that I deserve food that nourishes me.

Now, go and eat something good.

Be well!

xo

The question I will ask myself every morning

Hello, friends! It's stinking hot in Toronto and me and the girls are protesting. We are taking a stand against the heat the only way we know how: splash pads and air conditioned museums. Some of you may be delighting in these hot days but we suffer, and we don't suffer quietly. 

Despite the soaring temperatures and constant sweaty heads, I am feeling a burst of energy! (So much energy that this morning I have vacuumed the house, washed the kitchen floors by hand, and baked cookies. Someone stop me.) I've been feeling unsettled lately, but today things feel different. Another Day One, of sorts. I've been doing a lot of thinking these past few days, the good kind, even though I didn't always realize it at the time. My thoughts have been preoccupied with change, or more to the point, why it has been so difficult to make changes in my own life. There comes a point when you can only consider change so much and then you actually just need to do it. 

I struggle with the doing it part.

I want to be honest here, because this is why I'm here, and I hope that's why you're here, too. While so many very good things are happening in my life, I'm struggling. I feel like I'm sitting in the middle of this gift that is my life but I just can't seem to grab a hold of it with both hands. At the same time I'm feeling really self-involved (or one could call it self-obsessed) and it is beginning to irritate me. I'm irritating me. I'm all self-talk and no action. 

Have you ever been in this space? How have you pushed through to act on your goals?

So far I've just given in, crumbled under the permission I give myself to stay the same. I have told myself that this is hard and I just can't do it. But I can do it. I can do hard things. 

I'm embarrassed at how difficult it has been to make changes I want so very much. But no more. Change is hard. Doing hard things is hard. I'm coming to realize that I need to change my perspective, shake things up a bit, in order to make these first steps that I so desperately need. Today this means that I will use my new found energy to say yes to things that are good for me. Yes to being a nonsmoker. Yes to moving my body. Yes to forgiving myself for past decisions. Because if I can only say no to things, if all I can think is about the negative, things aren't going to go anywhere. Who wants to say no when saying yes is so much more fun?

If I am going to change, I have to just start moving forward. One foot in front of the other. Every day I am going to wake up and ask myself what I am going to do that day to make a positive change. Will I take a yoga class? Prepare some delicious food? Go to bed extra early that night? Just breathe? Maybe just one, maybe all of the above. I'll report back tomorrow.

If you woke up tomorrow and asked yourself what you were going to do that day to make a positive change, what would it be?

With love and encouragement.
Be well!
xo

Day One

From etsy.

It's Day One of quitting smoking. Again. Again.

I wrote yesterday about feeling pretty fed up with how I'm feeling lately. Fed up isn't quite the right word, it's more some combination of impatient/exasperated/at my wit's end all mixed up with feeling fed up. Is there a word for this? There should be.

What has been troubling me the most for some now is that I probably don't have to feel this way. While there are some things beyond my control at the end of the day, like my genetic predisposition to depression, anxiety, and probably to fibromyalgia, there are so many things I can do to change things. This is why in the midst of all these struggles, I'm also feeling motivated. Powerful, even. Because how lucky am I that I can feel like shit and do something to change it.

I have an appointment with my doctor today so we can talk about my blood work. I'm not a psychic, but I'm pretty sure I can divine what our conversation will look like: Danielle, your health stinks. But rather than fret about the state of my health, I am going to do something to change it. I'm going to return to my goals. The need to return again and again to my goals is the reason I'm writing all this down in the first place. Read, remember, reinvent. So I will get more sleep, eat nourshing food, breathe, and move my body. 

And not smoke. I wrote about my intention not to smoke a few weeks ago and I've started and stopped ten times since then. But today is a new Day One.

If I showed you my journal you would see the words "Day One!" written next to the dates of many, many pages. I have moments when I'm ashamed of how many first attempts I make, pleading with the universe to turn me into one of those people who decides to do something and then just does it. The first time. How I long for that kind discipline. But I am who I am, and that means that I need time to change. I need the motivation and the feelings to be just right for me in that moment. I can't be someone I'm not. And fighting who I am isn't going to help anyone, least of all myself. The difficulty I experience when it comes to making these kinds of change also makes a person who is understanding, compassionate, and loyal. I'll take that.

So maybe I've tried quitting smoking a hundred times since January, but maybe today is the day that it works. 

I believe in as many Day Ones as are necessary to live the life I want (and for this reason I will forever be in love with Mondays). Maybe you need ten first tries while I need seventeen. Let's give each other as many Day Ones as we need, shall we? 

Be well!

xo

I'm going to be selfish

So do I write about the fun parts of the zoo today, that time we watched baboons lounging in the sun like nobody's business, or when the rhinos were playfully running in circles while we sat watching them eating our lunch? I could write about how Shira cautiously dipped her toes in the water at the splash pad while Alyce launched her whole self into a waterfall. I could write about so many things because they are all true.

But what I should write about, in an attempt to be honest with myself, is how all I wanted to do while we were at the zoo was go home. My body ached. I was exhausted. I couldn't enjoy my favourite animals or the cool, shady forests because I was hurting. I cut our trip a little short and headed home for a nap. I turned on a movie for the girlies and went straight to bed. I awoke two hours later to two children happily making me homemade jewelry and the house in a relative state of clean. Sometimes they are just awesome.

I've needed a nap almost every day this summer. My body aches all the time. I'm grumpy. Clearly things aren't going the way I had planned. But am I surprised? No. Change is hard and I'm a reluctant changer. I've been ignoring my goals in favour of doing nothing, because nothing is a lot easier. But these last two weeks have reminded me that I'm here to make a difference in my own health this year. I'm going to be selfish and focused and, hopefully, a woman who needs fewer naps.

I was sad today. My health stood in the way of having a great time with my children, made it hard for me to keep up with their excitement and desire to explore. It sucked. 

So here is me sending out high-fives to anyone else who wants to make changes in their world. We can do this.

Be well!

xo

 

How to stop procrastinating and get to sleep already

Do you get to bed at a reasonable (for you) hour? Do you wash your face and floss your teeth before tucking yourself into bed? Do you make your room as dark as possible and hide your phone in another room? Yes? Then you're my sleep hero.

As I mentioned in my last post, one of my goals for the year to get better at sleeping. Feeling dead exhausted all of the days was one of the first signs for me that something was wrong with my body. I would sleep at night and wake up feeling like I'd run a marathon. I would fall asleep sitting up (I still do). And when things are at their most rotten for me physically, it's all I can do to not to nap three times in one day. Part of this comes from my depression, some from fibromyalgia, and some from having two young kids, working part-time, and going to midwifery school. It's not a recipe for feeling rested.

But I'm not asking for miracles here.

In related news: why I've chosen to become a midwife if I'm so interested in feeling rested? Fair enough, it isn't a career path known for its ample opportunities to sleep. As a student midwife I was often up for twenty four hours before signing off to get some rest, but it wasn't so much the all-nighters that were hard, but the more regular schedule of getting only a little rest at a time. Having slept three hours then getting paged to head to a birth, only to head out for a day of client visits afterwards. But the reality is that I'm made to be a midwife and there isn't anything else I'd rather do. As for the years of irregular sleep that I've got coming to me, well, I will just need to adjust. But at least I can do everything I can to take care of my sleep, even if unconventionally.

This year! This year I can sleep however much I need. My goal is to set the stage for myself to get a good's night sleep every night.  Goals need to be specific and realistic, so here it is: I will make getting a good sleep a priority by getting at least eight hours of sleep each night. Nine would be even better. Since Shira often still wakes up around six in the morning, this means getting to bed each night by ten o'clock, and even if she isn't up that early I love, love, love having some time to myself in the morning. So now I have a new bedtime. 

Exceptions include the following: if anyone invites me out dancing.

With my ten o'clock bedtime by my side, here is a breakdown of how I will accomplish my sleep goals:

   

Stop procrastinating and go to bed

Do you do this, or is it just me? I think it all started when I gave birth. The days were filled with the needs of the girls, but the evening? THAT WAS MINE. That's when I could flop down on the couch with Matty and do pretty much anything I wanted that didn't involve illicit drugs (breastfeeding and all). I began to savour each minute of those evening hours and I started staying up long after I was tired so that I could keep enjoying every minute. As hard a crush as I have on a good sleep, squeezing in an extra episode or chapter was so enticing. I actually fall asleep in mid-sentence sometimes because I push my limits so far some nights. What a dork.

Set an alarm on my phone

It's set to go off each night at ten. The important next step is to actually go to bed when it starts ringing and not just hit snooze.

Say good night to the world

I think my iphone addiction often stands in the way of my getting to sleep at night. I usually go to bed with my phone and read things that I've been looking forward to all day long (like this or this).This has bad habit written all over it. To reach my goal of eight hours of sleep each night I need to keep my phone out of the bedroom. I'm no longer on call anymore so I have no need to keep it in arm's reach.

Develop a bedtime routine

Write the next day's to-do list. Shower. Brush my teeth. Moisturize my sad, dry skin. And peek in on the girls because sleeping children are delightfully sweet. Then go to bed.

Maybe don't drink a coffee at 8 pm

I do this all the time. What am I thinking? This habit stems in part from the necessity of studying or working every night after dinner, but I need to get more creative and step away from the coffee. I love tea (just not as much as coffee), so maybe I could come look forward to a cup of rooibos Earl Grey tea each night.

Embrace the cold

We finally have an air conditioner in our bedroom and I need to turn it on more. I fall asleep so much better when the room is cold and if my goal is to get a better sleep, why not help myself out as much as possible? My resource-saving instincts are to only turn in on during a heat wave, but cooling the room off just before heading to bed sounds like a good compromise.

I think this is a doable breakdown of new habits that will get me on my way to sleeping longer and better. I can't control some things, like the way my fibromyalgia gets in the way of me feeling rested some mornings, but I can control my bedtime. If you're interested in getting a better sleep, you might like these tips.

Do you have any suggestions for me? What is your bedtime routine?

Be well!
xo

 ***

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Goals

I love writing lists. I write them all day long, in journals, on my phone, on random pieces of paper, on blogs. I make lists of life goals, lists of resolutions, lists of things about my day, of food to cook. But this list of health goals has been harder to compile. Writing them down, breaking them down into manageable pieces, that's taking some work. They need to be concrete in order for them to work. I can't just write Eat better and stop smoking and be done with it. It that were possible I would have felt better years ago. I'm really good at making declarations. But declarations aren't making me feel good.

No, I need a plan. Today I'll start with listing the four goals that are going to shape my coming year (five goals, if you count quitting smoking, but I've already written about that here. In related news: I'd love a cigarette). I have this gift of a year ahead of me, wherein I can devote a lot of time to making some real changes. For so long now I've wanted to feel vibrant again, like I'm not dragging my sorry body and mind all over the place. I know I have it in me, I just know it. Do you ever have that feeling?

I've come up with these goals in consultation with my family doctor, my naturopathic doctor, and of course, with Matty, who hears my thoughts on these things pretty much all of the time. He's been around to hear me grieve the loss of my energy and health for years now and he's such a patient listener. He's making his own health changes right now, so I've got myself some in-house inspiration. 

My goals are both straightforward and overwhelming to me at the same time. But I'm not looking for perfection here, just progress. Change isn't static but by nature takes different shapes and follows different paths. There isn't one right way to achieve a goal. Right? Right.

I want to sleep more.

I want to eat nourishing food.

I want to relax and manage my stress.

I want to move my body and feel stronger. 

Sleep

I adore sleeping, but I also love staying up writing or watching old episodes of Grey's Anatomy. I am in desperate need of some regular sleep, something this year off from midwifery school, and the fact that my children are now old enough to sleep through the night, will allow for. It's my goal to sleep a minimum of eight hours each night. I want to develop a simple routine for bedtime. Most of all I want to be able to say good night at the end of each day feeling like it is okay to turn everything off. Sleep is delicious and I need to stop fighting it.

Eat

This goal is both exceedingly simple and the most difficult for me. I love to eat and cook so much, but it's time to face the reality that how I eat might be negatively impacting my health. I've been working with my naturopath to develop and food strategy that might, if I follow it, reduce many of my symptoms. My goal is to eat for energy and health, and not only for the pleasure of a bowl of chocolate covered almonds. I dread food changes because they are hard, so writing about the process of these changes, the good and the bad, will be helpful for me.

Breathe

This one is simple, though not easy. I suffer from anxiety and some pretty low moods sometimes, and then I stop breathing. I get upset and I take out these feelings on my body by allowing only the minimum amount of oxygen necessary for continued life, and not one breath more. When I walked into my last appointment with my family doctor and my naturopath, they both prescribed mindfulness meditation before I could even get two words in. And so it has been decided. I will breathe once more!

Move

I've been slug-like for a while now. Sometimes I'm a slug because my mood is low, sometimes because my body hurts too much to do any kind of activity. Sometimes just because I'm a lazy human. It's in my nature to want to excitedly declare "I'm going to run a marathon next year!" (because I'm an eager slug). No, I'm not. I can barely walk for an hour sometimes without being close to tears at how much my legs hurt. So I'm going to start slowly. Could I ask you a favour? Could you remind me of this from time to time? Go slowly, Danielle. And for the love of all things, please remember to breathe.

***

In the coming days I'll post more about each goal, breaking each down into more manageable parts. Then I will share with you a little more about the process and what I'm learning. I'm doing this to give myself a space to take my goals seriously, and I hope maybe you'll get something out of it, too. I'd love to hear more about your goals and what you do to make them work, or how you also struggle with the work of making change.

Discipline is remembering what you want. I'm sharing these goals, personal and vulnerable parts of myself, because I need to keep remembering.

You guys! Let's do this.

Be well.

xo

Even on bad days, I'll still be happy with you

Even on bad days, I'll still be happy with you.

This is a reminder to myself. I've been struggling with some low moods lately, trying to make some overwhelming (to me) changes, wanting so desperately to feel as though I'm doing the right thing.When I make decisions that don't fall in line with the life I want, I get down on myself. It's part of my DNA, being hard of myself, something I've had to maneuver around my whole life. It can be debilitating and confusing, because that kind of negative self-talk in no way helps my cause. My rational brain knows that. The rest of me doesn't. So as a shout-out to this year being about doing things differently, I'm going to work on being happy with myself even on days when my instinct is to dwell on all the things I wished I'd done differently. Positivity is a powerful currency.

Discipline is remembering what you want.

I didn't write that. I can't for the life of me remember which book I read that in (I'm pretty sure it was a cookbook of all things), but I love it. Some days I get all whiny and complainy about not being disciplined enough to accomplish my goals. I mope around longing for the secret the right amount of discipline I need to make the kind of decisions I want to make. Not to smoke. To eat nourishing food. To move my body. To get enough sleep. To do the kinds of things that might help me feel like such a slug (a well-meaning slug with fibromyalgia). But I'm starting to believe that discipline isn't magic but might be all about how we make decisions, and the only way I can make a decision is by understanding what I really want. I want to feel good. Vibrant, even! 

I have a lot of feelings. But I also have goals.

And clearly I am feeling all of these feelings right now. I'm in this in between space, putting some goals on hold in order to pursue other ones. Having goals is vital to this process of change for me (go read this on goal setting if you love to set goals almost as much as you love a good list) and I think I want to use this space to connect with my own goals more often. This blog used to be so much about my life at home with the girlies, and while I still expect to share about my family, I wonder if that's where it is going. I keep reading again and again that change is about the process, not the result, and I need the help to remember that. I remember by writing and sharing and feeling vulnerable. So my vulnerable self will enter this space more often. 

What are your goals? I'll be sharing mine tomorrow. 

Be well.

xo

How to quit smoking in only 753 days*

 

This is the post in which I publicly declare my intention to not smoke anymore.

If you would rather not read the following confession/meandering account of my complicated struggles with smoking, that's okay. You can maybe read this post instead. If you want to keep reading just so you can comment and tell me how gross I am for smoking, please don't. I'm hard on myself enough as it is. Trust me.

For those of you who have never been addicted to smoking, let me tell you that it's complicated. I know--I really know--that I shouldn't do it. I am well versed in all the reasons that it is a terrible choice to make. It is rotten for my body, it makes me smell, it pisses off people around me, it's expensive, and it is a waste of my time. I GET IT. (Sorry for yelling.) Asked directly whether or not I want to smoke and I'll say hell no. It's a stupid habit. But then you'll probably find me ten minutes later smoking secretly behind my house, away from my family, because I am one addicted human being.

I'm a passionate sort who throws myself into situations with every ounce of my being, and this holds true for smoking. Some might call me an addictive sort, too, and they'd be right. I'm addicted to coffee, to delicious food, to my family (probably not in that order), and sadly, I've been addicted to smoking off and on for over twenty years. I started sneaking my mother's cigarettes when I was fifteen and it was everything I had dreamed of. Sound ridiculous? Because it is. I had hated my parents' smoking for years, but there I was figuring out how to rebel against the world and discovering that smoking made me feel quite rebellious. Before long I was a regular smoker all the way up until the day I found out I was pregnant with Alyce.

I would like to tell you that I quit that day and never looked back, but no. Not only did I look back but I spun my head all the way around and never took my eyes away. For the better part of five years I didn't smoke, feeling pleasantly smug about my not-smokingness, yet I always thought about it. It was a terrible waste of energy, all that time I wasted thinking about smoking, but it was an obsession of sorts. Though not the obsession it has become more recently.

Two years ago I started smoking socially, and then quickly returned to committed smoking all the time once I started midwifery school. I blame my anatomy and physiology course and all those damn multiple choice exams, but honestly, the new stresses of school were just an excuse I gave myself. In reality I'd always known this was going to happen. I was no longer breastfeeding, I had some more independence from my young children, I was a free woman.

Yet every day I smoked I felt shame. Big, heavy, bossy shame about being a smoking mother (not that my girls ever saw me smoke), a smoking midwifery student, a smoking human being. I had endless conversations with my myself about how bad an idea it was to smoke again, and I had so many reasons not to smoke, namely that I want to live as long as possible so that I can kiss my children's faces until they are grandmothers.  Nevertheless, smoking quickly became a thing I did and I came to rely on it to get me through the semesters. Each week I'd hatch a plan to quit, and each week I'd keep smoking. I stopped once for ten weeks, but I was lured back again and again.

Fast forward to six months ago and I quit, this time for what I truly believed was the end of my smoking. My health was getting worse (unrelated to my smoking, though I'm sure it didn't help things) and I was about to start my first clinical placement. I put a lot of pressure on myself to quit. Who needs smoking when there are babies to be caught? Right? Right. Until seven weeks into my placement I succumbed to my still very active obsession and started all over again, this time with almost daily plans to quit.

This is where I am now. Smoking and quitting on an almost daily basis. Sound ridiculous? Maybe, but I'm not trying to be. I actually want not to smoke for the rest of my life. But MAN is it hard to follow through on the promises I make to myself about quitting. It's hard work, plain and simple, and hard things take work. I look back on these past two years and I like to believe that I just haven't had space in my head to the do this hard work of quitting. My head has been filled with school, work, financial stresses, and sometimes, depression. No space. Closed .

But now that I'm taking a pause I'm ready. Ready or not. I'm taking this year for myself and it's really time to relinquish my obsession with smoking. It's time.

Wish me luck. I need so very much it.

Be well!

xo

*give or take a few

Pause

Do you ever find yourself looking for a pause button? That things are getting a little out of control and you need to stop, drop, and take a moment to catch your breath? Not the stop button, that's not what you're searching for, but just a breath, a moment, a pause. 

I just finished my first clinical placement in the midwifery program. Four months of following midwives around and being thrown into as many learning opportunities as (superhumanly) possible. I took blood, started IVs, performed vaginal exams, read lab reports, palpated bellies, examined tiny, minutes-old newborns, listened to fetal heartbeats, and, oh right, I caught babies. With my own two hands. As in a woman pushed her baby into the world and I was there to catch its round, soft head in my hands, asking her to push just one more time so that I could reach the baby's shoulders, and then, after the baby swam the rest of the way out into the world, I did my most important job--I lifted to the baby to its mama. I'm going to tell you a secret: it doesn't get much better than that.

I'm two years into my midwifery education program now. It's hard to believe that I'm here at this point, the point at which I can stand in the middle of this enormous, life-changing program and look back to my eager, excited, and wide-eyed first year self. The thing is, I'm still eager, excited, and wide-eyed, these two years later, probably more so now that I've dipped my toes in clinical practice.

It's only been two weeks since my placement ended, and it's still a little too fresh in my mind for me to talk about all the feelings, feelings that are still swimming around in my head, deciding where to land. I'm trying to navigate around the ups and downs of learning how to be a midwife, from the highs of being a witness and a participant in the birth of a human being, to the lows of sleep deprivation, to the complicated middle place of being challenged/judged/evaluated/supported as I learn my way around caring from women and their babies.

It's intense and amazing. Let me leave it there for now.

Sometimes we pause. Or at least, sometimes I pause. I'm pressing the button, just for a short while. For the next year I am taking a medical leave from my program, because while I've been in school these past two years, I've also been figuring out how to cope with fibromyalgia. I was diagnosed a few months before I started midwifery school and frankly I didn't quite know what to do the diagnosis. It felt (and still feels) like this fuzzy, catchall for someone who is depressed, exhausted and in chronic pain. I was diagnosed, like most people, after no other disease or syndrome could be identified, a sort of last-minute declaration that since it isn't all these Other Things, it must be This Thing. Truthfully, I've never really done much with the diagnosis. I've made half-efforts at caring for myself with my diagnosis in mind, but it's always come second, third, tenth behind all of life's other responsibilities: parenting, working, and midwifery school.

I'm reaching for the pause button because I need to finally pay some attention to my own health. As first year midwifery school turned into second year and clinical placement, my health strategy of sticking my head in the sand declared itself to be a shitty plan. My exhaustion got worse (no big surprise), my body ached, I moved slower and slower, became more and more depressed, and I gained weight (because I needed another thing). Through all of this I was willing and able to do the hard work of clinical placement, motivated by the all those eager and excited feelings I mentioned above.

Now, I'm depleted. I need some time. I want to take a moment, sit awhile, and come to terms with the fact that my health sucks. Most days I feel like I'm one hundred years old (and not one of those spry and youthful hundred year olds we read about on facebook. I'm talking bent over, shuffling, declaring things like "Oh! My aching back!" kind of centenarian). Grumpy, too, just ask Matty. But the thing is, I'm not 100, I am 37, and I want to feel that way. I owe it to myself, to Matty, to my girls. And most importantly I think, with some hard work I can feel more like the healthy almost-40 year old I know is hiding behind all the fibro symptoms. But I can't do this without a break from midwifery school. I just can't.

And so I stop and take a breath. For the next year (the duration of my medical leave) I will make it my business to discover what I need to feel vibrant again (and my vibrant might look different from your vibrant, but the point is that I am desperately craving some lightness and sparkle). Here is to my year of health! And to me oversharing about it! Yes, I will be blogging about my adventures in learning how to leap and cartwheel through my days, rather than hobble my way through another unbelievably busy year. Knowing what I know about my (un)health habits, I truly believe that I can find a point at which my health doesn't stand in the way of my thriving as a student midwife.

I'll see you around then.

Ready, set, pause.

xo

Be well!

P.S. I caught that baby.

(Photo used with permission.)

Five things

1. It takes me and Alyce approximate 789 minutes to walk to school. It is two blocks away. I have recently found myself home in the mornings and I've jumped at the chance to take Alyce to school. I love that we can walk, but I need to face facts and make myself get ready a bit earlier. No matter how I spin it, there is no way that Alyce will make it to school in time if we only give ourselves ten minutes. I once looked after a boy who was always late for school every day (by twenty or thirty minutes) and I swore I would always get my kids to school on time. I think it sets a standard for the day, kind of like making your bed.

2. It is a very cold January day, which you might not have realized since Alyce did not wearing her mittens on our walk this morning. Her reason? She gave none. I guess being four is reason enough.

3. I'm heading out in a few minutes to sign us up for a family membership at the YMCA. Matt and I have become rather sloth-like in our year of job searching, and we need to find some energy. The girls have plenty of energy, but we think they'll like some regular access to the pool.

4. I purchased a bathing suit this morning, in honour of my new quest to work this body of mine. I did not enjoy buying a bathing suit. In fact, I would like never to do that again. The end.

5. On a sad note, a young colleague from my former doctoral program passed away this week. He was intelligent, curious, and a good friend to many. I wish all of his family and friends some comfort this week. This is just such terrible news.