Yes, this is sort of a mom story, but it is also a story for anyone who has been questioned about why they do something or feel uncomfortable stepping out of their safe place.

Three months ago I had my second daughter, and was cleared to start working out two weeks after her arrival. So, exactly two weeks from her birthday I started going back to the gym in the mornings before my husband left for work. Side note: I am very thankful for his support in my interests. Anywho, early one morning a fellow gym goer approached me and asked how my baby was doing.   But then, the conversation took a sour turn and he started saying things like, “who’s home with the baby right now?” “Most people I know wouldn’t leave their new born.” “Your husband doesn’t mind staying home with the baby?” “Doesn’t your husband have to work?” Mind you, it was roughly 4:30 a.m. and before I left home, I fed, changed, and rocked my little nugget back to sleep.

Ok, so regretfully I smiled and responded to the questions in a kind fashion. However, on the inside I was burning with the fire of a thousand suns and wanted to hurl my dumbbell at this dumbbell. Or say, “No, my 2 year old is watching her sister now.”

Then, it got me thinking. I work out not only because I LOVE it and want to be healthy. But, I also want to an example to my two young daughters of work ethic, strength, and a healthy lifestyle. It’s always been a hobby of mine, and I’m not about to stop. I’m not going to let people’s negative thoughts detour me from something I love.

Everyday people are going to question what you do, how you do it, and why. But, does it really matter? As long as you are happy, doing something positive for yourself, and trying your best?   This line of thinking eventually led to this blog. At first I was super embarrassed, nervous, and afraid of what people thought. Then I had a moment and gave myself a coaching pep talk.   What if people didn’t like it? What if people made fun of me, or, even worse, thought I was dumb?

The answer, it doesn’t matter. Although, it’s way easier to say that than apply this line of thinking, sometimes you just have to fake ‘til you make it. Because if you don’t, who knows what you’ll miss out on. Don’t let someone get in the way of something you love.

In this end, this negative experience turned into the push I needed to start something new. Going to the gym was not something new, but I didn’t let someone’s negativity get in the way.   So then I thought, can I try something I’ve always wanted to and kick negativity in the nose like a bloodthirsty shark?  Of course!  So I said, self,  don’t be a dumbbell and ride the bench, get out there and play.

What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but have been nervous?




No one’s putting this gym bag on the sidelines. It’s not always going to be easy, but I don’t want to sit and watch.

Bag compliments of my dear friends Annie & Jess.



The Mom Jean Replacement


I never thought the day would come when I walked into a store and felt too old to wear something. Don’t get me wrong, I am not going to resort to mom jeans in which the elastic band accentuates my muffin top and a crew neck sweatshirt with my children’s names sketched in puffy paint. But, I do wonder, once I’ve rounded my late twenties, are some items out of the question?

For instance, a bralette. Is this a luxury item reserved for those college aged sweethearts with a flirty wardrobe? I tired one of those puppies on and it made me feel more like a linebacker in girdle than a fashion-forward mom. In the poorly lit dressing room, in which the glow reveled my every flaw, I acted like a puppet master hiking up the straps to create any semblance of a womanly figure. Oh well, at least I had my trusty sports bra and leggings.

Ahh, yes. . . my leggings, the staple of comfort and forced fashion. Please don’t make me give those up. Then I would have to regress to the dreaded mom jean. Because, in reality, we all know leggings are the new mom jean.  Wear them with pride, ladies.



P.S. What items do you fear adding to your wardrobe?

A view of my HALF of my coveted collection of legging (the other soldiers are in the laundry). Representing mom jean replacements across this great nation.



Mirror, Mirror on the Wall Who’s. . . Who the Heck is That?

Have you ever looked in the mirror and wondered what happened? Is this the same person that’s been there all along? It’s like all of a sudden my body has stretch marks that look like tiny rivers flowing across my stomach and legs. Not to mention, grey hairs sprout from my crown like tiny reminders that I am quite unsure of my natural hair color. Don’t forget about those moles that have erupted on my neck like Mt. St. Vesuvius. These changes may not be visible to the untrained eye, but I am sure my husband notices. However, the slightest mention of my morphing body would send him reeling on the couch for a decade.

These changes are like tiny badges of experience. Badges that are earned by hazing rituals woman’s bodies must go through in order to finally have the privilege of passing on their wisdom to the next generation. Although these changes are difficult to come to terms with and constant reminder that beauty fades; they also mementos that our bodies have the ability to love unconditionally, find strength when we feel weak, laugh until we cry. While I wish my skin was firmer and my laugh lines weren’t smiling back at me, I would not trade my life experiences for anything.




Things have definitely changed since my wedding day (first picture), but I definitely have more reasons to smile.