Shannon + Yoga = EPIC FAIL

So, as you know, I have a long history of failing at yoga. I thought this time around I had finally found a yoga I liked with my current park district A.M. Yoga class. And this class does have some things going for it. The location and time are good; it's in the same building as Nathan's preschool, at the exact same time I drop him off. The teacher is really nice and explains things very clearly. There's a lot of relaxation built in.

But that's the problem. It's very relaxation-oriented, which isn't a bad thing, but it's also not the least bit exercise-oriented. Now, I know I said that I didn't like the gym yoga because it's too exercise-oriented, so now I just sound like I'm too hard to please. And maybe that's true when it comes to yoga. Maybe it's time to give up on yoga.

As I said, it's not like the relaxation is a bad thing, especially for somebody like me who has ridiculous tendencies toward anxiety. Except this relaxation is really cutting into my workout time. See, I would normally work out while Nathan's at preschool, and instead I'm lying on the floor breathing at yoga. Now, I know flexibility is a major part of physical fitness, and I would be fine counting yoga as exercise if it was remotely challenging, flexibility-wise. But this class is really very senior-oriented, so the teacher says stuff like, "Now move your arm over to the right, if you can." Not at all a challenge.

So, to sum up, my problems with this class are: (1) it's at the wrong time of day to be getting all relaxed, and (2) it doesn't seem challenging enough to qualify as exercise. Potentially both of these problems could be solved due to the following turn of events: The instructor (who, again, I do like) has decided to quit teaching at the park district after this session (ending 2/24) and will only be teaching classes at a nearby church. She offers a few classes at the church, including one evening class. I'm hoping maybe an evening class will: (a) be less senior-oriented, (b) be at a good time of day to get relaxed, and (c) free up my morning time to go to the gym.
However, the yoga at the church is called something like "Yoga With a Spiritual Vein." Now, let me be very clear that I have no problem with any particular religion. I mentioned before that I don't like the Hindu-oriented yoga, and I don't want to try a Christian-oriented one, either. To me, focusing on spirituality requires a lot of mental energy, and I don't have a lot of mental energy when I'm expending a lot of physical energy trying to do yoga poses (plus trying to remember to breathe). I also think freaking out about whether or not I've had some major spiritual awakening kind of defeats the purpose of yoga.

So I'm thinking I just won't even try the teacher's class at the church. And I know, it doesn't hurt to try. In fact, this particular yoga setup is totally risk-free, because it's a pay-as-you-go kind of thing, so there's no major obligation there. (However, I do think $10/session is kind of steep. I'd rather see a movie for that amount.)

But, I just feel like I've been burned by yoga too many times to keep going here. Every class I've taken was too long or too hard or too easy. I like the idea of a DVD, although with a DVD there is never any variation on the poses or the stupid stuff the instructor says. I'm starting to think yoga is like the movie Goonies or hazelnut coffee: something that everybody else likes and I don't.

I'm frustrated that I can't enjoy yoga. It seems like everybody else loves yoga, and it always extolling the virtues of yoga. It's great for stress! It really tones your core! I'm one with the universe! I did yoga for a year and now my laundry folds itself!

I talked to the my trainer at the gym about my failure at yoga, and she suggested that maybe the solution was to do the Pilates Reformer training. The Pilates Reformer is this machine that apparently is some kind of miracle-worker in terms of toning. Here's a random photo I pulled off the Internet:


It looks kind of hard, but I do enjoy fun gadgetry. Also, as this shadow figure demonstrates, it's sexy, too:


So, I might be willing to give it a shot. Of course, it's a whole separate (huge) fee to do the reformer training. Bah. Oh well, if I finally find a flexibility-based exercise that I like, it's worth the money.

Meanwhile, I think I will use my yoga money to go to the movies. I could go out every Thursday evening, say I'm going to yoga, and then just sit through a 2-hour movie instead. Maybe I could become a movie buff. That's probably the only kind of buff I can hope for anyway.

Embarrassing Confessions

1. I sort of like Justin Bieber. I think he has been funny the times he did sketches on SNL, especially this hilarious one with Tina Fey. To make myself perfectly clear, I do not find him attractive, so I'm not some kind of gross pedophile. I just like that he doesn't seem to take himself too seriously, and I think today's kids could do worse for a role model.

2. I like lottery scratchers. I realize I am an educated adult and I should know that it's dumb to play the lottery because your odds of winning are infinitesimally small. And, in fact, I know that I rarely win, and if you factor in the amount of money I have spent on lottery scratchers versus the amount of money I have won, it is a net loss. But I only spend about $5-10 a month on lottery scratchers, so it isn't like I have a compulsive gambling problem. And also, I do not really enjoy any other forms of gambling. I find horseracing kind of creepy, and I don't have the acting skills to play poker. On the few trips to casinos that I have taken, I have stuck with slot machines because there's no awkward interpersonal pressure there. I also don't play the lotto with the numbers and the balls, because I would never remember to find out if I won anyway. I could be holding the multi-million dollar ticket, and I'd throw it away with my dry cleaning receipt. So anyway, I think it's fun to scratch off the occasional ticket, probably because the tickets are sold in otherwise boring places like the grocery store, and I always think I can get 15 seconds of excitement out of buying a lottery scratcher.

3. I am way too easily sucked into stupid reality shows on cable. I don't so much like the competition-based reality shows like American Idol or Survivor, but find me a show about a person with a weird medical condition or some crazy family structure, and you'll have me for at least half an hour.

4. I'm probably going to buy some cosmetics from the Hello Kitty line at Sephora today. It has been ages since I've had some Hello Kitty nail polish. (The Sephora line is, in fact, marketed toward adults, but their key demographic probably isn't white suburban housewives.)

5. Other juvenile interests I have had: Silly bands and those Japanese puzzle erasers

6. Speaking of Japanese puzzles, I have never successfully completed a Sudoku. I'm a crossword girl myself.

7. Things I like that everybody else hates: washing dishes, mosquito bites

8. I'm not a very good driver. I had to take two sessions of driver's ed because I flunked the first one. When I finally took the driving test, I only got a 72 (passing was 70). I don't know how to parallel park or drive a stick-shift, but I have given up on learning either of these skills because I think I'm lucky I can drive at all.

9. I don't understand Twitter.

10. It's driving me insane that I can't think of a #10 here, because I only like even numbers.

Everyone likes pictures, right?

Geez, it's after dinner and I'm just now writing my blog post. I blame Weight Watchers for my tardiness. I'm not sure how it's their fault, but it's always safe to blame Weight Watchers.

Speaking of eating, I made a nice Valentine's Day dinner. As you might recall, I was making a recipe called Mock Lobster, which was chicken that was supposed to taste like lobster. It did not taste like lobster, but it was good. We all got to sit down and eat dinner together, which does not happen very often on weeknights in our house.

Plus I had this gorgeous centerpiece:

Way to set up the shot, Shannon. There are a bunch of random papers in the background. I shoved them all aside during dinner.

I got Bill some chocolate from Fannie May. The thing is, we are at a disadvantage when it comes to boxed chocolates, because we didn't grow up with Fannie May. We grew up with See's candies, so we're very familiar with the types of candies that See's makes. Now with Fannie May it's hard to know what you're getting with a particular assortment, and it's hard to know what's inside a piece of candy based on how the outside looks. Since I was only allowing myself one piece, I cut into several with a knife before I picked the one I wanted. Wasn't it nice of me to get my husband a box of candy and then cut all the pieces in half?

I feel a Forrest Gump reference coming on.

Anyway, Nathan's class actually did their party today because he only goes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Celebrating Valentine's Day on Feb. 15 kind of bothered me because of my tendency to want to compartmentalize and keep particular holiday activities where they belong. Also I was thinking maybe I could get Nathan's teachers some flowers for cheaper since it was the day after Valentine's Day, but they were still marked up from Valentine's Day and had a day longer of wilting in them.

So, I was frustrated with how much the flowers cost, until I experienced my kid's behavior this morning and decided any teacher who's willing to deal with him deserves a million dollars' worth of flowers.

Here are the arrangements I made:

I really think the Mater Valentine cards add something to the arrangements.

And here's Nathan at his class Valentine's Day party:

Little kid fruit punch mustaches!

Finally, this is a shot that's not related to Valentine's Day, but I wanted to show you my new Fiesta coffee mugs. Mostly I want to point out that these mugs are for the serious coffee drinker, because they hold 18 ounces of coffee. I originally only set out to buy one, but then Amazon was all, "Buy all 3!" and I was like, "I would like to buy all 3!" So here they are:


The official Fiesta colors are, from left to right: Plum, Scarlet, and Peacock. Which, and I found this infinitely interesting when I discovered it, are all characters from Clue: Professor Plum, Miss Scarlet, and Miss Peacock. Good thing they don't make a (Col.) Mustard color, because that sounds ugly.

Anyway, Bill feels that the Professor Plum mug should be his, because he is a professor. Then he got all mad when he saw me using it. Which seems oddly territorial, and also weird because: (1) He doesn't drink coffee, and (2) It's purple.

Just a little slice of life from my household.

Valentine's Day, a Personal History

I'm never sure how I'm supposed to feel about Valentine's Day. It seems like the educated, enlightened person is required to view V-Day as a meaningless Hallmark holiday characterized by pointless consumerism. We're supposed to feel that we shouldn't need a greeting card company to remind us to tell people we love them! We should question why we need an obnoxious holiday that makes single people feel left out.

But, the thing is, I have always liked Valentine's Day, even when I was single. Below is a brief history of my personal Valentine's Day experiences.

In elementary school, Valentine's Day was awesome. Candy, hearts, crafts, an opportunity for a class party ... what's not to love? A highlight was when my kindergarten boyfriend, Derek McLaughlin, brought me a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and I kissed him. It would be years before I saw that kind of Valentine's Day action again.

When I was a kid, I made sure my mom bought me the kinds of Valentines that came with candy. Nobody wants a simple card when you can have candy! Most of today's commercial Valentines for children come with some form of add-on like candy or stickers, but when I was a kid you had to DIY if you wanted candy to come with your cards. The most popular form was to stick Conversation Heart candies in the envelope with your cards, which was kind of gross. Those hearts are pretty gross anyway (they are made of the same stuff as Necco wafers), and it's even more disgusting when they're semi-stuck to paper. So it was an especially big coup when my mom scored me some miniature packs of gummi bears to put in my Valentines one year. I was the most popular kid in class ... for that one day.

What I did not like as a kid were some of the pre-printed messages on the cards you bought. Like, why overly romantic things like "Be mine" or "You're special"? Since you were required to give a Valentine to everyone, why didn't they just say "Happy Valentine's Day"? This became especially anxiety-producing in my later elementary years, when I was worried that if I gave those cards to boys, they would think I like liked them. I remember finding the cards with the least romantic messages and reserving those for boys. As if anybody read anything into those messages. As if anybody read them at all.

I'm sure Valentine's Day existed when I got to middle school, but I don't remember anything about it. Maybe I blocked it out of my memory because it probably involved the adolescent social horror known at the Candy Gram. You know this one? Some group or club hosts a fund raiser where kids can pay a dollar to send messages with candy to their friends, and then on Valentine's Day, a representative of the club interrupts your sixth-period class to deliver the messages, in front of everyone, so it's obvious that Lisa S. got 27 candy grams and Shannon C. didn't get any.

But actually I'm sure Valentine's Day was still fun when I was in middle school, because my parents probably got us candy or some other small token, and I seem to recall we usually got to go to a restaurant for dinner.

In high school I became aware that Valentine's Day was for people in relationships, and that I wasn't one of them. I was jealous that I never got to be one of those girls who got a giant bouquet of flowers delivered to her at school (to high school, really?) and then got to proudly lug it around campus as a badge of honor signifying her attractiveness to the opposite sex. Oh, man, this is such a hassle to have to carry around this huge jungle of flowers that my boyfriend spent two months of his earnings from the movie theater on. As jealous as I was of the flower girls (and maybe that's why I love arranging flowers now), I still thought Valentine's Day was fun. Just like when I was a little kid, I figured Valentine's Day was about chocolate and hearts and getting little gifts from my parents ... what's not to love?

In college I remember a lot of V-Day "friend dates" and pity gifts from platonic male friends. I remember that I still pretended to hate Valentine's Day, even as I loved every chocolate-filled minute of it. The way I saw it, Valentine's Day was an opportunity to acknowledge all your loved ones, not just loved ones in the romantic sense.

Then I met Bill my senior year of college. The first Valentine's Day we were together, when we were dating for about three months, we did the full traditional Valentine's Day date and gift exchange. I remember being at the Hallmark store agonizing over cards to get, worried about the ones that said I love you because we hadn't really said that yet. Oh, naive little 22-year-old Shannon, you needn't worry. Men don't care about cards. Your boyfriend reads as much into the message on your $3 Hallmark card as the boys in elementary school read into your generic boxed Valentines. You might as well give your new boyfriend Bill the same card you gave to Humberto G. back in fifth grade.

I did get Bill a gift to go with the card, some pajama bottoms I got at Old Navy along with my special outfit I picked out just for the Valentine's Day date. Doesn't this rocking sweater/skirt combo scream "hot date"?

Valentine's Day 2000, featuring the roses Bill gave me and my psycho roommate's surfboard. And apparently one of those old-looking Pottery Barn phones.

After we took this picture, I made my poor graduate student boyfriend take me out to dinner, and then we walked on the beach at night and got ice cream. We were so cute.

Bill went away to law school in Chicago the following September, and I stayed in Los Angeles, so Valentine's Days 2001-2003 were part of our long-distance relationship phase. But I almost always visited him around Valentine's Day because I had three-day weekends for Lincoln's Birthday and President's Day around mid-February. We always exchanged simple gifts and gallivanted around Chicago, mostly while I complained about how cold it was.

Then on Valentine's Day 2003, around 2:30 a.m., we got engaged! Bill conjured up a plan to take me straight from the airport to the University of Chicago campus, stand among the trees lit up with twinkling lights, get down on one knee, and put a ring on my frozen ungloved finger.

Yeah, can you believe it? I was awake at 2:30 a.m.!

In our married life, I have always insisted that we acknowledge Valentine's Day in some way, but not go over-the-top. I think it's nice to take time to tell people we love them, even if it takes a greeting-card holiday to remind us to do it. He usually gets me flowers and I usually get him chocolate. Everyone's happy. And then rather than going out to dinner at a crowded restaurant, I try to cook something extra-special. These attempts have largely been failures. My cooking skills are not of "extra-special" caliber. I can master the basics, but when I try to take a step beyond, it's never that good. What I should be saying is, "Happy Valentine's Day! I made chili in the Crock Pot!"

Actually, that probably would go over big. Instead I'm making this recipe tonight called Mock Lobster, which I got off of Allrecipes. Because nothing says Valentine's Day like lobster, and with Mock Lobster you have the side benefit of getting the obnoxious B-52's song "Rock Lobster" stuck in your head all day, too. You're welcome.

Anyway, I like Valentine's Day, and I always have. As I have mentioned in the past, since moving to Illinois I also like Valentine's Day because by February you need some hearts and flowers and red and pink to brighten up the dull winter days. And now that Nathan is old enough to know what's going on in the world, it's fun to make Valentines with him, too.

So, Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Don't hate it for the commercialism or the emphasis on romance. Love it for the chocolate.

SuperIma Sunday Check-In

It's time again for my check-in with Leigh Ann and friends!

Last week's goals:

• Each day, do some small thing to bring joy to an otherwise blah winter day: Well, this was a really fun goal. Sunday I made the Super Bowl cookies, and Monday I did the pretty Valentine's Day playdate. Tuesday I got a pedicure, with a pretty shade of pink polish. Feeling like Sunday through Tuesday's goals were getting a little bit expensive, I opted for a cheapy goal on Wednesday, checking out a flower arrangement book from the library (even though I've checked it out like 7 times before). Thursday I didn't do anything, but my husband rescued the day in the end by bringing me some gorgeous roses. Friday I kind of didn't have time for anything. Saturday I took a bath with the last of my rose-scented bubble bath. So, mostly I did okay, except for Friday. But you know, I got into the spirit of the goal.
• Give up mom guilt: This one actually went surprisingly well. As you know, I was really struggling with a lot of guilt on Tuesday. But that was sort of the rock-bottom point I needed to hit to start climbing back up again. You guys were all really supportive, and that helped a lot. So, I actually didn't even have anything to write on my list of guilt for the rest of the week. I'm pretty sure I'm not totally cured of mom guilt, but I think I've made a major improvement.
  

This week's goals:

• Stick with the Weight Watchers plan every single day this week: You know those signs they have at factories that say "This site has gone ___ days without an accident," and then they fill in a number? That's how I think of my Weight Watcher-ing. Like, how many days can I go without cheating? How many days can I measure and plan and track and be good? Since this is my first week back, I want to do it right all 7 days, which will especially be a challenge on Thursday because I have a moms' night out kind of thing. That's always hard because I tend to see it as a time to relax, and so I think I should be relaxed about my diet as well. But I want to try and be good all week, no matter what. And part of the good Weight Watchers day includes going to the gym, so I want to have a side goal of working out every day this week (yoga on Thursday counts).
• Finish another book: This week I finished Left Neglected by Lisa Genova. I realize that I have set this book goal a few times before, but I just really like it as a "let something slide" goal. Because when you sit down and read, you're letting a lot of things slide.
  

(Oh, and the Weight Watchers/gym goal counts as my "doing something for myself" goal, even though I probably won't really appreciate the benefits of it for a long, long time.)

WARNING: This post is about Weight Watchers. Click away now if you don't care.

I went back to Weight Watchers yesterday, and the only thing that's on my mind is food, food, food. They overhauled the entire Points system, and now it's the PointsPlus system. All the values that I've memorized and learned to estimate over the years are different.

There are pros and cons to the new system, but mostly I'm just overwhelmed trying to figure out all the new points values and make decisions as to what to eat when I have no reference frame within the new system. Like, okay, this particular food's new PointsPlus value is 6. Is that good? Hard to say, because I also have a different points allowance than I did before.

It's sort of like if you woke up one day and the U.S. had switched over to euros as its currency. You'd know how many euros you had coming in, and how many euros a particular item costs, but you wouldn't have years of experience trying to budget within the reference frame of that particular monetary system. Oh, and unlike with currency conversion, there is no easy formula to convert the old Points to the new PointsPlus. The old Points were based on calories/fat/fiber and the new PointsPlus are based on carbohydrates/protein/fat/fiber. In case you were curious, this is the formula to used to figure out the PointsPlus values (from Wikipedia):

Who feels nervous just looking at that? Not Katie!

Now, of course Weight Watchers gives you various electronic and paper tools to calculate the PointsPlus values, so it's not like you're all at the grocery store with a pad of paper trying to do algebra to figure out the points value of every food.

Oh, and I'm allowed to post their proprietary formula on my page because a formula in and of itself is not subject to intellectual property protection. While the formula given on Wikipedia was not directly released by Weight Watchers, empirical studies have found that this formula produces the same PointsPlus values as the Weight Watchers tools.

(The preceding paragraph was for my husband, who is an expert on intellectual property law.)

Now, if you're still reading, I will tell you that there is a lot of emotional stuff associated with my current weight-loss endeavor, stuff like How did I let myself get this fat? and How on earth will I make it through this long journey (again)? I feel overwhelmed and frustrated, and wondering if I'll ever be successful with serious weight loss, given that I've failed so many times in the past.

On the other hand, I feel there are some emotional gifts that come with doing Weight Watchers. There is the satisfaction of knowing that I'm Doing Something About It. Yeah these jeans are too tight, but I'm working on it. It feels a lot better than trying on something at the mall and being frustrated that it doesn't fit, and OMG why the hell did I just go to Auntie Anne's?

I also think I tend to give myself more of a break when I'm on Weight Watchers. Like, I don't beat myself up if I think I didn't work hard enough at the gym. I don't force myself to do as many household chores. Like, look, my energy is going toward measuring all the foods I eat and then washing every single measuring cup I own. I don't also have time to pick up all those toys, again, when I know they're just going to get thrown on the floor tomorrow anyway.

But mostly, I am overwhelmed. And I tell myself how lucky I am to have the money to pay for Weight Watchers and the necessary diet foods. I am lucky to have a brain in my head that can comprehend these things. But I feel unlucky to have the body I do and the general weakness and lack of willpower.

And it's all very confusing and emotional. And I can't parse it all out right now.

So instead I just talk about math.

Solitude

The response to yesterday's post was amazing. I enjoyed hearing such reassuring words and "me too"s from you guys. It's fun to hear from people I don't know IRL, because it means that blogging can reach people you wouldn't reach otherwise. But it's also fun, in an equal but totally different way, to hear from people I do know IRL, because they often share feelings that don't come up in everyday "Hey, how are you?" small talk conversations.

Oh, and I'd like to welcome a new reader, my husband, who saw yesterday's post advertised on Facebook, thought the title was overwhelmingly sad, and brought me home the most beautiful, longest-stemmed red roses ever. And said, "I just want you to be happy, Shannon."

See? Blogs get through to people in ways that day-to-day conversation can't. Mostly because the day-to-day conversation with my husband are less about feelings and more about poker TV shows, specifically my desire not to watch them.

Anyway, enough feelings stuff.

The title of my post comes from the fact that I am home alone for an entire hour! I signed Nathan up for this little class at the high school, where the high school students run a preschool to learn about what little kids are like (answer: annoying). It's only $75 for a 90-minute class that meets twice a week from now until Memorial Day. And the best part is that there's a drive-through drop-off and pickup.

Except today was the first day, and so I decided to walk him in, which meant I had to navigate the parking lot at the high school. When I got there, it was a passing period, and a whole bunch of students were walking across the parking lot. Is it weird that throngs of teenagers still make me nervous? Like, OMG, I might be going the wrong way, or in the wrong parking lot, and they're all looking at me and judging me. I generally spent most of my own teenage years worried about doing the wrong thing and having people judge me.

I generally spend most of my time now worrying about doing the wrong thing and having people judge me, but I guess in a different way. Like, now the mistakes I make aren't about inconsequential things like having the wrong kind of backpack. Now the mistakes I make could screw up an entire human being.

Oh well, Nathan is dropped off, and I'm home alone. Which is especially pleasant because I had an extra-crazy morning, having had to babysit for this 19-month-old who belongs to my former landlords. He hadn't been over here in 4 months, which is like a million years in toddler years, so he didn't really remember me, and he screamed when his parents left. And then I had to go meet with my trainer, so the kid had to go to the gym daycare with Nathan, and he cried there. But apparently in the two hours he was there, he became the daycare worker's BFF, so upon my return he cried again. And then we went to the McDonald's playland, because what kid wouldn't want to go to a McDonald's playland? Except he just sat there, intermittently crying and refusing to eat. I felt like I had to explain to people that he wasn't my kid, so they wouldn't think, Geez, why can't that woman shut up her own kid?

See, still worried about being judged.

Anyway Nathan is not at all nurturing, and was generally acting like a little shit to this child, and so I had some panic about how I'm screwing him up by not giving him siblings.

See, still worried about making mistakes.

Oh well, the other kid has now been picked up, Nathan is at the high school, and I'm at home. Things are good. Except I have to swing by Weight Watchers on the way to picking up Nathan, because it works out well for geographical reasons, and I'm dreading that like nobody's business. The first trip back is so hard. My brother said once that Weight Watchers should have a sign over their door saying, Well, look who came crawling back.

And BTW, since Leigh Ann mentioned "baby weight," let me say that all the weight I have to lose is "post-baby weight." A.K.A., "Oh, we can't let those French fries go to waste" weight. I admit it, sometimes I order Nathan something that comes with fries just so I can eat some of them.

In other news, I am reading the best book right now. It's called Left Neglected by Lisa Genova. It's about this woman who has a crazy lifestyle as a mother of three with a very demanding career, and then one day on the way to work she gets in a horrible car accident. The accident leaves her with brain damage to the right hemisphere of her brain, which means she has a condition call Left Neglect, wherein she can't see the left side of anything. But, it's not like she's blind, she's just totally unaware of the left, can't turn to the left, and can't voluntarily move her left side. She only eats food off the right side of her plate, only puts on makeup on her right side, and can only see the right side of the page in a book. And, you know, this tragic accident gives her pause to look at her crazy life and make some changes so she can focus on what's important. I just really like the book because it covers two of my interests, work-life balance and psychology.

I would like to sit around and read this book all afternoon, but I have to take Nathan to ice skating. We are over-scheduled at the moment, but only because today is the last day of ice skating and the first day of his class at the high school.

So, I don't know what this post was really about. Friends, babysitting, insecurity, weight loss, books ... kind of a smattering of everything.

Have a good weekend, you guys!