Ph(at) girl running

So there it is... phat, fat, chubby girl running. There's my secret; I told you it would get ugly. Last night will forever go down in history as day one. Last night I began what will hopefully become a daily (shooting for 6 out of 7 days) regimen where I put on my tightest sports bra, my most gut sucking in workout clothes and my running shoes and run my bouncing bum around what my husband and I call the "big loop" and not just up and down our dead end street. I am running to prove to myself that I can. I am running for my daughter, my sisters, (who both run regularly), for my parents, for my life. I am running for my life. I am running because if I don't, my life may not last as long as I had originally planned. I am overweight. I am obese. Other than the peak of my pregnancy, I am at my heaviest. My weight played a large role in my daughter being born emergency cesarean at 31 weeks and with God as my witness, I will NEVER let that happen again. I want to have another baby. I want my daughter to have a sibling. I want my husband to say, "these are my children." These are my "children". My child will be fine "siblingless". She won't know any different. But she won't be fine "motherless". She just won't. My husband won't. My parents won't. My sisters and my brother-in-law and my nephews and my niece won't. No one will just be fine and move on if my weight gets so out of control that it continues to cause health problems and I eventually prematurely kick the bucket. It is no longer an option. So... I run. I run for my daughter, I run for my husband, I run for my parents and my sisters and my brother and my niece and nephews...I run for my life. Stay tuned. I told you it would get ugly!

Day one...

Day one: For 32 years, 2 months, and exactly 3 weeks now, I have secretly dreamed of being a writer. When my only child was born, one of her nurse's told me that she had a favorite game she played with each of her tiny patients and it was to predict what it was she felt they would someday become. So, on July 15, 2012 in Pod C of the Sister's Hospital NICU, at the age of just 2 days old, it was determined that Charlotte Elizabeth Ryan would someday become a best selling author. I took it as a sign. "I should write", I thought. I've been told I should write... forever... but I was told by my mom, my dad, a few aunts... never anyone outside of my blood relation until recently. And in that moment, during what I will later describe as the most trying days of my life, I decided to chronicle my daughter's journey. I relied on the classic journal and pen, refusing to try my hand at blogging, for fear of seeming narcissistic, ("Who would want to read about my measly life?") It was cathartic, therapeutic, a million times easier than I imagined, yet time consuming. And during those trying days of NICU visits and recovery from a traumatic birth, time was something I did not possess. But, more on that later...

So here I am... on day one. Well, not really day one, I've been writing for years in my own little way and cleaned house in elementary school when it came to "Writer of the Month" but my interest and talents never quite took off on a national stage. (Not to say that this will... if anything, those beloved aunties of mine might enjoy reading these entries from their little parts of the country but I'm not expecting a Pullitzer out of this!) It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I realized the value in written word, and it wasn't until a great uncle of mine published a book in his early 80's, in the winter of his life, that I came to the conclusion that it doesn't matter when, it matters why.  Why write? Why now?...Why not? What better time than now to begin something for ME? Today, I find myself rounding the curve in the middle of a glorious summer break from my full time job as a special education teacher... but certainly not in the midst of a break from my FAVORITE full time job... Motherhood. Being Lottie's mama is my life's work, and it is here, within the confines of my computer that I hope to share our journey, our laughs, our tears, our hopes, our advice... our story, for anyone who cares to pull up a seat and listen a while. I may at times disappear for weeks, hopefully not months, and I promise never years, but in that time I am certain I will be living the hell out of life so as to have a lot of material to return to my audience with. I will invite in my sisters as guest writers and at times, I will post information about a more personal journey I am embarking on, starting TONIGHT. But again... more on that later too... stay tuned, it WILL get ugly!

So, for all of you interested in following along, please remember the rules of a good audience. Sit up straight, chris cross applesauce, safe hands and feet and lips zipped until the speaker is ready for comments and questions.... oh, sorry. Force of habit. Sit back, relax, and stay a while... and welcome to the many adventures of Lottie's Mama!