Chronic Ama

I downloaded the FitStar app via my Fitbit a few months ago. I have used the free version about 4 times so far and I really like it. The free version gives you a workout a week, which isn't much, but it definitely helps with motivation. The nice thing, for me, is that the work outs are only about 15-20 minutes long, which is about all I can handle at the moment.  Staying active has become important to me in the last few years. Well, in the last 5 years since my hysterectomy. Since then, I have still dealt with pelvic pain from ovarian cysts (until I made them remove my last ovary in 2015) and endometriosis pain in my back and legs (which was finally diagnosed properly in 2015 after being suggested time and time again since about 2009), as well as debilitating migraines. Even after my 17 minute workout this morning, I am recliner bound with the heated blanket keeping heat on my back, hip and IT band, which are the source of my latest battle with pain, that I will be victo

Today I kinda feel like a champion rabbit, with my fluffy fur all shiny in the sun and my little tail happy as can be. Ok, no, not really with the fur and tail, but maybe.  My primary doctor has been preaching to deaf ears about low carb diets and why it fits me so well. I think after the dairy free bullshit, I wasn't really into committing to another diet. I like food and I like dairy and grain, so fuck off, right? I mean, I've tried, but living a season without a tamale is close to blasphemy. Same goes for sugar cookies. And fudge. And biscochuelos.  Let's fast forward this. My bestie (I have a few, because, as an adult with kids, I know the importance of friends and social relationships) is currently on the low carb thing and she can go out for lunch and a dinner and still be good. Plus, she made cookies with almond butter that I really enjoyed. Also, having someone else that you can look up to and partner with while doing any kind of life changing diet or exe

I'm stuck in a crowded room with the roar of laughter, conversation and a promising Friday night unfolding in waves of short skirts and polished hair all around me. The only thing missing is the crowded room. Because I realize I'm alone in my head and the promising Friday night is everything I wish I had instead of the deafening roar of responsibility and a over filled buffet plate in my hands that I keep trying to empty. In one corner you have my ultimate disgust for other parents. Well, not every single one of you. Just those that cannot carve out a few minutes to send a text, check and email or even give a shit about your kids' school work. You see, I'm battling my feat of parental failure enough while trying to explain to my daughter that I cannot make another parent pick up a phone to send a text (because phone calls are a thing of the past, right?) nor can I make them take interest in a science fair project that they opted to group together to tackle. I get it,