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Just Let Us Run

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ 1 Comment

Dear men of the world,

Stop catcalling women. Let us walk down the street. Let us finish our workout in peace. Let us enjoy our run. Stop honking your horns. Stop whistling. Stop acting like predators. Stop being predators.

STOP. Just let us run.

I have complained about the catcalls and inappropriate behavior of the male race before. Usually it is met by an eye-roll or two. So many insist that,

“Deep down, women actually love that shit.”

Yes. Outrageous as it seems, I have been told that we actually love this unsolicited attention. I have had a conversation with a group of men, during which my girlfriends and I pleaded with them to never, ever harass a woman jogger again. We promised these men that no, deep down, women do not love being catcalled. We actually all have a festering, deep-seeded rage that threatens to boil up to the surface every single time it happens. I personally have fantasized about taking a substantial tree branch to a catcaller’s rusted pick-up truck, and busting the ever-living crap out of it. I would be lying if I said I have never had to stop myself from walking up to a guy and round-housing him right in the neck. One man, a good friend actually, asked me,

“If you don’t like the attention when you workout, why don’t you just cover up? Wear baggier pants and stuff?”

Here’s a post-workout selfie, showing an example of typical workout clothes I wear. This picture wasn’t taken because I was feeling sexy or wanted sexual attention. This picture was taken because I felt strong and proud of myself.

That pisses me right the hell off. Why do I have to cover up on an 80-degree day, while men can run around wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts and Nike’s? They get to feel safe. Nobody yells at them out car windows and makes them feel self-conscious about their bodies. The chances of them getting grabbed off a path and raped in the bushes are quite low. They don’t have to focus on making eye contact with every passer-by to lower their chances of being attacked. They don’t have to secretly turn off the music in their earbuds when they pass a stranger to make sure they can hear if somebody decides to approach from behind. They don’t need to worry about sticking to busy streets so that there are plenty of eye witnesses and help available in the event that their personal space is violated. I wonder what that is like? To just throw on your shorts and go? Focus 100% on your workout? Not have a tiny jar of mace in your waistband? I can’t even fathom that freedom.

I got ready for a run today. I threw on a sports bra, tank top and a pair of fitness capri leggings. I tossed my hair into a ponytail, slipped on my running shoes, popped in my earbuds and took off. I didn’t look in a mirror. I didn’t consider my appearance, because why in the hell would what I look like matter in that moment? I had no make up on and put zero effort into how I looked. My thoughts focused solely on the practicality of my run, yet it’s my fault that I got catcalled because my clothing was tight? Here’s the thing: Baggy clothes make it hard to run. Cotton sweats hold in heat and get bogged down with sweat. Why in the hell do women need to think twice about what they wear during a workout?

Reasons I wear tight clothes to workout:

  1. Moisture-wicking fabric keeps me cool as I sweat LIKE ANY OTHER HUMAN BEING.
  2. My sports bra holds my boobs up. It has one legit job and it doesn’t fail me, provided it fits properly. Proper fit for a sports bra requires it to be tight to the skin.
  3. The leggings are like a second skin, moving with my body and allowing me full range of motion.
  4. These leggings, unlike bulky sweatpants, also reduce thigh friction. The thigh friction struggle IS REAL. Am I right, ladies? Nobody wants to end an hour of running with raw thigh skin. Nobody.
  5. Leggings designed for running also have a pouch that securely holds a cell phone in the waistband, so I can take it along for my run without it being cumbersome to hold or knocking around loosely in a pocket.
  6. Bright colors and reflective material on the clothes keep me safe by allowing me to be spotted from a distance by the bikers and drivers that share the sidewalks, streets and paths with runners.

And that is just to name a few! Workout and running clothes have practical purposes. In fact, my workout clothes cover more of my body than some other everyday outfits I have seen people wearing out in public. I am fully covered when I workout, from chest to knee. I am not wearing these clothes to be sexually suggestive. In fact, looking sexy is the absolute LAST thing on my mind when I am running. I’m mostly focused on my time, form, distance, trying not to sound like a freight train while gasping for oxygen, and most importantly, the amount of extra food I’ll be able to eat after burning off these 300 calories.

Until, that is, some asshole decides to hang his stupid head out a car window and start the inevitable bullshit that every woman alive is all too familiar with.

“Hey blondie! Who you runnin’ from!?”

“Damn girl! Look at that body! Keepin’ it tight!”

“Owwww owwwww!”

Orrrrr there’s always the traditional whistle and horn honk, if they are passing by without time to articulate one of the oh-so-eloquent sentences above.

One of my girlfriends was running, and had to stop at a cross walk. She was innocently stretching her calves while waiting for the traffic signal to change. (This is a completely normal behavior while running, may I add. Nothing sexually suggestive about calf stretches.) This was when a guy stuck his arm out the car window and snapped a picture of her. He followed that up by screaming, “DAMN, GIRL! SPANK BANK!” before the light changed and he drove off. So now there is a picture of her, in a vulnerable position, taken without her permission, on a stranger’s phone. If you don’t know what a spank bank is, I’ll let you google that on your own time. Are you offended for her? Because I certainly am.

Now I cannot speak entirely for her, but I can tell you that the minute anything like that happens to me, my mind snaps back from whatever enjoyable, relaxing place it has gone during my run. My thoughts are then focused purely on my personal safety. I now know those men noted my presence. They know what I look like, what I am wearing and what road I am running down. They went out of their way to target me and call out. If they took the time to call out, how many other men noted my presence and didn’t call out? Did any of them take a picture? What if they did? How do you think that makes me, or any other woman in that position, feel? I’ll tell you what, we certainly are NOT flattered. We definitely are NOT secretly loving it.

WE EFFING HATE IT.

This is why I cannot run the same routes day-to-day and week-to-week. This is why I have to make sure my husband knows my routes and how long I should be gone. This is why I wear a GPS tracker on my runs. This is why I carry mace in my waistband. Women runners are told to ALWAYS change our routes and times of our runs. Don’t be predictable. It makes you a target. Somebody could note the route you are running and the time of day, and they might return to that spot at that time tomorrow, or a week from now. They could watch you for a day or two, and then you are prey. You are no longer simply training for your half marathon or 5k. Now you are a victim. Some will call you paranoid, but if you don’t do all this? If you think you can just leave your house wearing a sports bra and leggings for a run, and God-forbid, something terrible happens?

On some level, society will view that as your own fault. You will have to carry some of the blame for what a man has done to you. YOU wore the tight clothes. YOU forgot the mace. YOU took the same route at the same time every Saturday morning. How could YOU be so stupid? You silly girl. You made yourself vulnerable, and YOU let the bad guy catch you.

So, men in my life, I need you to understand all of this. I need you to look at how you are able to walk around, every day, feeling safe and secure. I need you to realize that all the women you know do not have that same freedom and security. Take a minute and think about it. I need you to help us get there some day. I don’t want to produce another generation of boys that think this behavior is acceptable. I don’t want my little girls to know what it feels like to be catcalled. I don’t want them to EVER have to look at their own clothing, body, appearance, routine or actions and think that it must have been their own fault that they were sexually harassed. I don’t want our generation of adults to shrug it off as “boys being boys” and “that girl was asking for it”.

Please start with setting the example. I need you to stop catcalling women. Stop thinking it’s okay for other men to catcall women. Stop telling us to cover ourselves up. Stop taking pictures of us without our permission. Stop leering at our bodies. Stop insisting that we love being sexually harassed.

Stop rape culture.

Just let us run.

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The Modern-Day Equivalent of Obnoxious Telemarketers

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ 3 Comments

I thought I would be able to avoid telemarketing by just skipping installing a landline phone. Those are becoming obsolete anyway, right?! So we have no phone in our home, only cell phones. These phones only ring when loved ones call us. No telemarketers. Sound peaceful? Well it’s not. I am currently contending with the modern-day telemarketer:

The multi-level marketing company sales reps.

Every time I open a social media app, I get attacked by reps asking if I need leggings? Body wraps? Nutrition supplements? Essential oils? Skin care? Handbags? Everyday totes? Home decor? Tupperware? The list goes on….and it’s driving me mad. It’s not as easy as it used to be. You used to be able to just hang up on a telemarketer, or ask to be put on their “do not call” list. There isn’t an escape that simple anymore, because it is your family and friends that are selling you these products. How can you turn down your loved ones?

I didn’t used to be such an angry person. I have plenty of friends and family that have been reps for various multi-level marketing companies over the years. Sure it was a little annoying, but I loved them anyway. I hosted my share of parties. I bought butt-loads of various products. Then one day it happened. I was messaged by 3 DIFFERENT sales reps to join their sales teams in a span of 36 hours. Kicker: All three of them were vague acquaintances, and all three of them were Rodan + Fields reps.

I had to politely decline buying into the same multi-level marketing company three damn times, to three different people, in basically one day. That was when I started to get a little pissed.

mlm-meme-give-money

As a stay-home-mom in her early thirties, I am a constant target. Exhibit A:

“Hi! How have you been the past 14 years since we last saw each other?! I see from your Facebook profile you are a stay-home-mom of two girls! Must be so fun!”

Ummm. Hi. Yes. It is fun. When did we become Facebook friends? I forgot you existed.

“I’m just messaging all the ladies in my life to let them know I am now a sales rep for _______! (Insert literally any of these home sales companies here. It’s all the same.) I just love this company! Their products are great and have changed my life! You need to try some of these products! You can lose all your belly fat with a magic body wrap! You can rub stuff on your feet and never get sick! You can reverse aging with just a pot of cream and look 18 again! You can make your hair grow 2 feet in 2 months taking pills made of the elixir of life!”

Wow. That all sounds fun for you. Congratulations on your new job path. Good luck! (Praying they take a hint and target their next victim.)

“Wouldn’t hosting a party be fun? You could invite all your friends! We could have wine! You won’t have to lift a finger. I can give product demos so you all can see for yourselves how well these products work. You just need to provide food and drinks for everyone you invite, and clean up after everyone leaves. You also need to convince all your friends to come. You never get to go out and party as a mom. This is the perfect excuse to have a little fun!”

Sounds great, except I have to invite all my friends under the uncomfortable guise that they eventually will have to get out their credit cards so that I can earn a free hostess gift. My friends and I see each other enough under regular, fun, no-pressure circumstances. I definitely don’t need to have a party to see them. I get invited to enough of these sales events as it is, and most of the invitations start with the hostess saying, “So I know it’s annoying, but I’m trying to help a friend out, anybody have any interest in coming over to buy leggings? Worst case scenario – I will make sure there is wine. Please come.” Sorry, but I do not want to beg my friends over here to spend a minimum of $100 a-piece so that I can earn free shit.

“You are lucky you see your friends regularly. I am so busy running my home business that I don’t get to see mine. Since you have all this time on your hands, maybe you would like to join my sales team?! You can make yourself a million dollars from your couch! You never have to waste your time going back to work and earning a decent salary in the career field that you studied hard to become a part of! Doesn’t that sound great!? We are running a one-time special if you join right now! I can sneak you an even better discount since I know you are going to be so great at this!

Probably not. I see how much time it takes up of yours. I don’t have the time to make a new Facebook status every hour about products I’m selling, let alone hit up every person I have ever met to convince them to join my sales team. If it really was that easy, why would anyone in their right mind work a regular job? Oh right! Guaranteed salary, scheduled hours, family benefits, 401K – ya know, all the useful stuff an employee of a legitimate company can negotiate into their contract. Have you managed to make a million dollars yet? Seems like if you had, you wouldn’t need to hit up your entire Facebook friends list for a paycheck.

“No problem! I totally get that your family time is important to you right now. Buuuut you can still join my sales team for the low starter kit price of $1500.00! You don’t even have to sell anything! You can keep all these products for yourself and completely change your life!”

Are. You. Kidding. Me.

Who in their right mind needs $1500.00 worth of anything!? If I’m spending $1500.00, it better be on a new fridge for my kitchen.

“If you ever change your mind, let me know!” (I WON’T.) “Maybe we can just set you up with an online party? You friends shop from the comfort of their own homes right on Facebook! It’s really fun, convenient and easy for everyone!”

Sounds perfect! I’ll add a bunch of my friends to this online event without their permission, so they can get berated with notifications about it everyday until it actually happens. Then there will only be like 14 different steps they have to complete in order to buy a pair of semi-ugly leggings and an everyday tote in a Fall print?! Ugh. Whatever. If I commit to this halfheartedly, will you leave me the fuck alone!?

I WISSSSHHHH I could say this was a one-time occurrence. Obviously, I am exaggerating for full-effect, but a form of this conversation happens to me at least a couple of times per month. I am currently invited to two Thirty-One parties and three LuLaRoe parties. My news feed is a never-ending roll of demo videos and sales posts. Every time I post a status, I wonder if I run the risk of being targeted for a potential sale. A status about being tired = A sales pitch from a rep trying to sell me liquid greens for energy. A status about an indulgent dinner = A sales pitch from somebody trying to sell me on a full-body detox cleanse. A status about one of my kids being sick = A sales pitch about how essential oils will prevent all childhood illness. A status about my workout = A sales pitch on a vitamin powder so I can get nutrients while I hydrate. Maybe I speak for only myself here, BUT JESUS CHRIST! PLEASE JUST LET ME LIVE MY LIFE IN PEACE!

My main issue with this is friends and acquaintances basically guilt-tripping people they know into buying over-priced crap under the guise of just “helping” them out. I can’t tell you how many times I have heard people say “I am just trying to make money for my family! I would love it if you could help me reach my sales goal!” It makes me twitch with annoyance every time. Do you know who also works a sales job? My husband. Since we are a single-income household, he makes all the money that supports our family. NEVER ONCE have I heard him utter those words, because every single working adult (sales job or not) is doing their best to make money and support their families.

And guess what!? That money he earns by going to his non-MLM sales job everyday? We need that money for OUR family.

Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I go out of my way to help friends and family. You need me to watch your kids? Done. Your youngest needs a ride home from school? On my way. You need me to drop off dinner because you have been sick yourself while taking care of sick kids? Consider it done. You need me to buy school clothes for your kids’ birthdays instead of toys because its been a tight year? No problem. If you need some help and support, please ask for it. Ditch the salesperson act. Be honest. I am happy to help you in any way that I can. I do my best to go above and beyond to support my friends and family, but I have to draw the line here. Enough is enough. I am not contributing any more of our hard-earned money to these multi-level marketing companies. That isn’t helping anybody out, it’s just ruining our relationships.

If I bought just one $30 item from the five parties I am added to this week, I would end up spending $150. This week. On leggings and totes THAT I DO NOT EFFING NEED OR WANT. If I bought essential oils from every single rep I know, it would cost me hundreds upon hundreds of dollars – and I don’t even believe they do anything other than smell good. I can burn a candle from Target for $3 if I want my house to smell good! If I thought I needed health supplements, I would go to a store and shop for them instead of ordering them through someone I barely know that can’t give me a full list of ingredients.  “Health” supplements are some of the most unregulated products on the market, so I absolutely am 100% refusing to drink your magic juice, and over my dead body am I letting you give a sample of that red stuff to my kids. We’ll go for a family run and eat some organic apples instead, thanks. Annnnnd sorry for the cocky honesty, but I am walking, talking proof that you do not need a body wrap to get a flat stomach. Two eight-pound babies came out of my 5’2″ frame. Lots and lots of cardio exercise gave me a flat stomach – not a magic wrap.

I am done politely declining someone 14 times in row before they move on. I am done begging friends to participate in online events and home parties. I am done accepting invitations to all said events. Don’t even send me one. Don’t check the box next to my name. Just don’t. If you do, you will be getting a hard “NO” from me. I am not wasting anymore time playing nice.

If you are actually passionately pursuing your dream job with one of these companies without hassling everyone you know, then kudos to you! I do know a few people who have become a rep, created a business page where they can be in contact with INTERESTED customers and left me the hell alone. Let me just say, I SO VERY MUCH APPRECIATE THAT! It means a lot to me that I am still your friend, and not a dollar sign on your next sales quota. More of these obnoxious reps should take a cue from you.

I wish you all the best of luck with your home businesses, and look forward to zero messages, invitations and sales pitches in my future. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a life to live.

Eleven Things Only Type A People (And Those That Love Them) Understand

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ 1 Comment

During a recent, heated conversation with my husband, I got slightly wound-up. It is totally standard for him to be cool as a cucumber while I flip out. I always tell myself I am going to stay calm, but it never really happens. He turned around, with an amused smile on his face and goes, “So, you know how hard it is to love you sometimes, right? Kait, just calm down.”

Calm down!? CALM DOWN?! If there is one phrase that will instantly make it impossible to “calm down”, that is probably it! However, I started laughing right along with him. I actually had to sit down on the floor with tears in my eyes from uncontrollable laughing. Because I know he loves me no matter what, plus, I am super-annoying and high-strung. And he is totally right. (Hey, sometimes you just need to laugh at yourself to get a new perspective.)

Competitive people can’t help it. I annoy myself right along with everyone else, if we are being honest. I want to just turn off the constant list of potential failures running through my head. I wish I could comfortably go to bed and fall asleep after coming in second place, but instead I will lay awake and analyze every move I made that landed me behind somebody else. I check off those boxes of various failures, agonizing over each one, vowing to never allow that to happen again.  I will fall asleep eventually, promising myself to be the best next time. Then I wake up the next day and begin holding myself to that promise. It is exhausting.

Welcome to my type A life. #thestruggleisreal

I have matured to realize that some people just hate my confrontational nature. I think my personality is misunderstood. I am not trying to knock anybody else down, I am just trying to muscle my own way up. I get that this rubs people the wrong way, but I’m not changing anytime soon. I can’t sit back and let things play out. I can’t let go of the reins. It is too difficult for me to watch a train wreck unfold before my eyes, knowing that a little bit of effort on my part might have changed the outcome. I so badly want to be a super-cool, laid-back, type B who doesn’t give a crap – but it’s never going to happen. I am too much of a control freak, and I am waaayyy too competitive.

So without further ado, let’s get to the bottom of why us type As are just so hard to love:

 

Eleven Things Only Type A People

(And Those that Love Them) Understand

1. You have to win. At everything. EVERYTHING.

GPS time of arrival? Nope. That’s time to beat.

Fitbit’s Daily Showdown? A.k.a. I run on the treadmill until I am in first place, or die trying.

Fantasy football? If Freeman isn’t cleared on that concussion for another week, I will personally take down the entire Atlanta Falcons organization.

Mini golf? I NEED to get a hole-in-one, just so I can tell you to suck it.

Bake sale? My brownies better disappear like lightning. Please, God, let people buy all my brownies!

Foot race? Don’t make me laugh. Enjoy the taste of dust.

I could go on, but I am sure you get the point. Daily life is a contest, and losing is failure.

2. You cannot rest until your daily to-do list is checked off.

Husband: Why don’t you stop folding laundry and relax?

Me: Because I need to finish it.

Husband: Why can’t you finish it tomorrow?

Me: Because it is on TODAY’S to-do list, idiot.

Husband: Now that you are done folding laundry, why don’t you stop pacing the room and watch this show with me?

Me: I only need 628 more steps to overtake Tiffany R. in the Workweek Hustle! I am too close to victory to sit! (See item 1.)

Husband: You need help.

3. Throwing parties consumes your life.

My youngest is turning 4 in July = CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!

I will not rest until our backyard is transformed into an ice palace, the cake is a perfect depiction of Olaf, all the guests have become real-life replicas of Elsa and childhood dreams have come true.

4. Same goes for any holiday, really.

Christmas spirit, Pinterest valentines, Easter magic, leprechaun mischief, Halloween overkill…..When it’s holiday game time, you GO BIG OR GO HOME!

5. Home renovations = convincing yourself your home will someday be featured on HGTV.

My poor husband actually thought our bathroom reno was finished. I whipped my head around at this statement in disbelief! (Is he even looking at this unfinished room?! The walls are bare!) Then I informed him he would be installing crown molding and assisting me while I agonized over where to hang which pieces of wall decor….for 3 straight days….until I snap:

Me: Get the kids ready, we have to go back to HomeGoods IMMEDIATELY. NOBODY can enter this house until this room clicks, because it simply cannot be seen like this!

Husband: You still need help.

6. You count your calories, and hate yourself for it.

Well crap. That glass of wine just put me over my caloric budget today. Looks like I am now faced with the choice of burning extra calories at 9:30 pm, or going to bed with a belly full of wine and extra helpings of self-loathing. Decisions, decisions….

7. A trip the gym is actually your own personal Olympics.

When your body combat instructor tells you to bring it up to level 3, you actually do it. Even though you think one of your arms fell off 10 minutes ago. Then you start walking for your treadmill cool down, but somebody hops on the treadmill next to you and starts running. Naturally, now you have to crank it back up and run another mile too. You have no other choice! You can’t look weak in front of your fellow fitness peers! That’s a gold medal, ladies and gents! Only the strong win the gold! (Again, see item 1.)

8. When people ask you to sign up for a “run/walk 5k”, you simply cannot.

Ummm….So it’s a race? But you don’t try to beat your best time? You let people pass you? Some people just walk?…..I’m confused. (Again, see item 1.)

9. Casual debates become a matter of life and death.

If you come at me trying to change my mind on an issue, I will unleash a rapid-fire rebuttal that probably contains statistical data and fact citations. If I care enough to research said issue in the first place, I also care enough to make sure I can support my stance when it is questioned. Just remember not to take it personally. It isn’t about other people being wrong, but entirely about me being right. (Again, see item 1.)

10. If company is coming over, your home must be perfection.

Click the video below to watch how I freak out every single time we host company.

“There cannot be any sign of LIVING in this house!”

So funny. So accurate. Borderline sad.

11. Your kids are on a schedule, and you LOVE it.

Every time someone comments how annoying your strict household schedule is, you laugh in their face as your kids go right to sleep at their assigned bedtime annnnd don’t wake up until the next morning. Yup. I just threw a *tiny* bit of shade. Couldn’t help it. Schedules are where it’s at!

(12. You are slightly annoyed that this is a list of eleven, instead of a nice, round number like ten. Apologies.)

 

So there you have it! My whole long list of competitive crazy. I get that I drive you nuts. I might even insult you on occasion. (It’s called tough love, my dears.) All of us control freaks know you would like us to calm the heck down, but we probably won’t be relaxing anytime soon!

Just know that if you are lucky enough to love one of us type A’s, we are going to pave the way for you (through some micromanagement) and cheer for you (as long as you’re doing it the way we instructed you) just as much as we annoy you! It’s not nagging, it’s actually encouragement – just with swear words and deadlines. 😉

Throw Out Your Resolutions!

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ 1 Comment

I hesitated for a couple of weeks to publish this post, mainly because I didn’t want to offend anybody. About 75% of the people I know made resolutions, and suuuure went to town about it on social media! The mere suggestion of me not making resolutions is bound to rub someone the wrong way.

The funny thing is – the more people who read my blog, the more feedback I get. Putting your thoughts into words and sending them into the blogosphere also means having a thick enough skin to not panic over negative feedback. I get responses via email, mostly good, on almost every post I have written. As it turns out, I end up offending at least one person with every click of the publish button! #sorrynotsorry

Read on, my dears, at your own risk of taking every word I type personally.

Just a few short weeks ago, I witnessed KATRILLIONS of social media posts about all of your new year’s resolutions. If you didn’t make a resolution then you were picking out your theme words for 2016, declaring your fitness goals or making a vow to change everything about yourself. Now comes the part where you might get offended – Basically, all I saw was a bunch of stuff revolving around how much you sucked at life in 2015, and how much you are not going to suck at life in 2016. I rolled my eyes at all of it and said, “Yea, OK people. I’ll believe it when I see it.” Yep. I did that to all of you. Behind all your backs. I can’t help it, because I was just born to be cynical and honest.

Here we are, halfway through January. All those motivating posts have been trickling down to zero. I see the same old whiny crap about how much it sucks to be sick with a cold, how much it sucks when your kids are sick with a cold, how much it sucks that you have to drive your kids to school/practice/play dates/whatever in the cold, how much it sucks when school is cancelled, how much it sucks when it is too cold to breathe outside, how you have no time for yourself, how grocery shopping is the worst, how just living your day-to-day life is so damn terrible that you have to put that negativity out into the universe for all to see and sympathize with you. Well, here’s a fact: I don’t sympathize with you, and if you think I am talking to you, personally, I am not. I am talking to everyone with a smart phone, tablet or computer. (Including myself!)

We all need to just stop it.

Stop setting ourselves up for failure. Stop setting ourselves up for disappointment. I guarantee you, next January everyone will post about how glad they are to say goodbye to 2016 and how awesome life will be in 2017.

(Wait. Wasn’t 2016 supposed to be your best year ever? Remember how you were going to lose 50 lbs, redecorate your entire house and reconnect with every friend you ever lost? None of that happened??? How shocking!)

I personally don’t believe in resolutions, theme words, unattainable fitness goals, ridiculous diet restrictions or anything of the like. You can try to call BS on me, but I can assure you I have not made one post on social media about my goals for the new year for quite some time now. I think it is all a big crock of you-know-what.

I have read a lot of articles and posts that are getting passed around recommending that I just say “no” to loved ones to free up my schedule, use this newfound free time to work on myself, choose my resolutions and pick out a word to develop the theme of my year around. Half the people I know are currently on some kind of obnoxious fad diet or spending hundreds of dollars on magical weight-loss shakes, cleanses, pills and God knows what else.They don’t shut up about it. January is literally the month of gym and protein shake selfies. There is a lot of pressure to get on board with all this hoopla. To make myself into a better me.

Why are we required to knock ourselves down and beat ourselves up when we reflect on our past year? Why do we need to make ourselves “better”? Instead of wallowing in self-pity and trying to come up with ways to make myself better, I would prefer to just virtually high-five everybody and keep on keepin’ on. What is wrong with saying, “I did my darn best to kick butt. I am going to continue to kick some butt. If I do anything different in 2016, it is to kick even more butts than I did in 2015!”?

I think I already accomplish great things in my daily life. I don’t believe that choosing a theme word and metaphorically applying it to my day is going to help me improve myself. If anything, for me it will be a waste of energy and time. I know some people swear by this every year, and if it helps motivate you, then keep doing it! I just fail to see how it would be helpful to me, since I’m not really a let’s-analyze-this-life-choice-from-all-angles-and-make-sure-I-am-living-within-my-chosen-theme kinda person. I usually just jump into situations with hope that things turn out alright. *Usually* they do, so I am going to stick with that plan. I prefer doing to thinking. I might be a cave woman.

I don’t believe I need to make a resolution to lose a ton of weight or achieve physical perfection. I know I am healthy, and we already live pretty a healthy lifestyle in my household. My body is 30 years old and has brought 2 children into the world. It is obviously NEVER going to look the way it did 10 years ago. I have (begrudgingly) accepted that, and refuse to waste money on supplements or fad diets with false hope that I will look like a Vicky Secret model. (We all know it ain’t gonna happen. I am 5′ 2″ with stretch marks and A-cup boobs. There is not a shake, cream or pill in the world that can help me.) I might as well just keep taking care of myself by continuing to eat right, work out regularly and appreciate the healthy body I have!

I love giving to others, and I am going to continue to say “yes” to my loved ones. I will probably never say “no” just to say “no”. It does not make me feel good to say “no”. One of the best things my mom ever taught me is that you can give in different ways. You can give of your time, talents or treasure. We don’t have a lot of treasure. The treasure we do have pays bills and buys groceries. I will always be happy to give my time and my talents to those who need them, appreciate them and deserve them. I know most of the people I say “yes” to will also say “yes” and give their time, talents or treasure to me when I need them most. Despite saying a lot of “yes”, I can still manage to carve out pieces of time for myself when needed. (Newsflash to naysayers: This is thanks to time management, not being a selfish jerk who says “no”  to everything just because I can.)

I’ll keep saying “yes”. I’ll keep kicking butt. And most importantly, I’ll skip the BS. I don’t have resolutions or a resounding vocab word. I don’t have a checklist of unattainable goals. I just have the desire to keep trying to be the best mom, wife, friend and person I know how to be. I am going to continue to give 100% of myself to my life, which includes saying “yes” to all the people in it.

In a nutshell, I am not going to change myself. I am not going to list all things I could be better at. I am going to keep being positive and kicking butt this year. I think you should throw out your lists of goals, resolutions and words, and just come kick some butt with me!

Seriously though. BodyCombat® is on Tuesdays. Meet me at the gym and we can roundhouse kick 2016 right in the face.

(I totally feel the same way as Matt Bellassai, but he just uses a lot more profanity! Watch and giggle here, because, “Nobody needs a newer you.” Hehe!)

Ten Things Only Moms Who Used To Be Super Fans Can Understand

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ 1 Comment

It’s Sunday. Game day.

Open your eyes and take a deep breath of that chilly breeze blowing through your window. Your friends are picking you up in an hour to go tailgate. Get up and start to get ready! Have a beer while you shower. Go ahead. Nobody’s stopping you, and that shower beer is the perfect way to start Sunday Funday. It’s so cold and refreshing, competing with the warm steam of the shower. Ahhh. Living the dream. Just loving life and enjoying a shower beer.

Do your hair so that it still looks good under a knitted hat. Select an outfit that makes you look cute, clearly distinguishes you as a hot Chicago Bears fan and keeps you warm enough at the same time. Perfection. Now fill up a big travel mug with coffee and Bailey’s, throw ice on the orange and blue jello shots in the cooler and jump in the truck when your friends pull up.

Are you ready for some football?!?!

HELL YES. SUNDAY FUNDAY. BEAR DOWN, CHICAGO!!!

 

Now fast forward 5 years……

I wake up to little people who need a lot all at once. I chug hot, black coffee even thought it is burning my tongue. I remember the coffee-and-Bailey’s-Sundays fondly for a fleeting moment, but I don’t even have any hard liquor in the house. I sigh and google the Bear’s schedule between pouring glasses of milk, because I actually don’t even know when and who they play this week. (It’s not that I don’t care! I had to re-prioritize everything when I became a mommy. I literally have no time to worry about sports anymore.) Turns out they don’t play until Monday night. Oh well. Come noon, my husband will sit in front of the TV and multiple computer screens, so wrapped up in a combination of his fantasy team and work that the house could burn down around him and he wouldn’t notice. I take the kids to the zoo, because the house feels like a zoo anyway.

Bye Sunday Funday….Probably forever.

Tears. Grief. Mourning.

I am a mommy who was once a fan. A true fan. I loved tailgating outside Soldier field. I loved high-fiving other super fans in the stands after every touch down. I loved watching the entire game, uninterrupted, with everyone at the local sports bar. I loved knowing the players stats, who got traded and who was injured. I just loved to breathe that crisp fall air because it meant football, food, beer and fun. Daaaa Bears!

Were you a mom who was once a fan too?

I wholeheartedly understand this dilemma. You are not alone.

dabears

Ten Things Only Moms Who Used To Be Super Fans Can Understand:

1. Attending the game is only fun until you are exhausted.

Let’s be real – I can’t keep up with my cool, hip, childless friends. After two beers during the tailgate, I feel nice and toasty. After two more beers in the stadium, I need to lay down. I have to pace myself. Stay hydrated. I also can’t forget to swing by the ATM to pay the babysitter later, because I somehow already spent all my cash. Was it always 10 bucks a beer at Soldier Field? No wonder I was broke in my twenties. I supposed I could always play it smart and stay sober, but that also equals being the caretaker and designated driver for all those Sunday Funday clowns I came here with. No thanks. I’ll take my chances with beer.

2. I can just watch the game with a few friends at a sports bar!

Brilliant plan, imbecile. See #1.

3. Staying home to watch the game doesn’t really work either.

I try to catch a play or two in-between prepping dinner, folding laundry and granting fruit snack requests every 15 minutes. I might also attempt to enjoy a hard cider before somebody knocks it over and I have to clean the carpet.

4. Let’s bring the kids with to the game! It will be fun!

Oh sure! Really fun! Because dropping a couple hundred bucks to haul around a backpack full of snacks and sippy cups, celebrate touchdowns by holding a toddler over the potty, play musical stadium chairs and apologize repeatedly to everyone around you sounds like an epic time. Said no one. Ever.

5. Family-friendly doesn’t apply to Buffalo Wild Wings on football Sundays.

Because now you have a baby. In a bar.

6. Your husband has magical powers.

The outside world doesn’t exist to him from 11:59 AM Sunday until 12:01 AM Monday. He can tune out the entire household. He will be mentally gone for 12 full hours, and will sometimes resurface from football land to find beer and food. Don’t even try to wake him from this Cinderella spell. It is only more energy wasted on your part. It is him and his fantasy teams. Why he was granted this freedom and you were not is an eternal mystery, but at least his roster is pretty stacked! Let’s hope he wins some big cash this season!

7. Every other commitment you have seems to fall on Sunday afternoon at kickoff.

You are an adult now. You have adult things to attend, and you can’t flake out like you did when you were 22 years old. Wedding showers, baby showers, birthday parties, family reunions, etc. – Be there or be square! Better hope your phone has decent service so you can get score updates, provided you have a minute to check it without looking rude as hell.

8. Don’t throw a Sunday Funday party. Just don’t.

At least once during football season, we all get the brilliant idea that throwing a party for the Bears game is going to be fun. It’s not. Now instead of watching the game you are cooking, cleaning and helping to take care of your friends’ kids. You suddenly remember why you swore not to do this again last year, and admit that next year it will probably sound like a good idea again. Oh well. At least I got to try out a new buffalo chicken recipe from Pinterest! Go Bears!

9. You don’t even know who half the team is anymore.

I haven’t watched the NFL draft for three years running. I vaguely remember Pat Tomasulo recapping what was going on with the Bear’s roster on the news while I made breakfast one day. None of the details remained in my brain. I save face by making fun of Jay Cutler. Because at least everybody can agree on hating Cutler.

10. You still have the cutest Bears apparel, but it is just collecting dust in the back of your closet.

Someday I will bust that tight little women’s jersey back out and Instagram the hell out of a game day selfie. Someday. After my boob job and tummy tuck.

 

See? I told you that you weren’t alone, my fellow fan who became a Mommy! I am down in the trenches with you, fighting the good fight from one football Sunday to the next.

It is going to turn out OK for us, I promise.

In a few years, the kids will be old enough to sit through a game. We can enjoy our football Sundays as a family. We can get out of the house to watch football games at Buffalo Wing Wings without stares full of judgement. We can take the kids to Bears games without backpacks full of baby crap. We can take them tailgating, teach them how to play bags like pros and eat Chicago style hot dogs with our tailgate neighbors. We can cheers water bottles and even eat blue and orange jello together. (This time without the vodka.) It will get better, and until it does, we can hold on to the carefree, glorious memories we have of our super fan days.

If we raise these kids right, they will probably be super fans just like their respectable mommies!

And really…..What more could you ask for?

BEAR DOWN, CHICAGO BEARS!!!