Broken ankle ... Broken dreams

Just kidding! That's a little dramatic even for me.

So, I broke my ankle. Well, the bone on the outside side of my right ankle. I could probably google and find out what it's really called but nah, you know the bulbous part of your ankle? That.

I wish it was a great story with a tragic ending but it's just a lame story with a tragic beginning.

We went to Jump On It, one of those kids adventure type places with trampolines everywhere because my little sister kept pestering me to go (sorry Bronte, love you but you definitely pestered) with a big group of our family.

I was being pretty boring sitting there responding to emails on my phone like the ridiculous work-a-holic I am.

After talking to my kids I decided to jump on the trampoline so I jumped and messed around with them a little bit.

I knew I had a few emails to respond to and in all honesty I was getting tired so I sat back down along side my sister, brother in law and cousin for a rest.

Not long after I stood up again, and decide it was time to go and play again so I stepped off the platform onto the corner of a trampoline and slip - crack - fall I rolled my ankle.

While I was lying there barely breathing because of the pain I could hear laughing, a lot of it. 

I'm sure I looked ridiculous, like a new born calf finding their legs, but the annoyance I've experienced this past week makes me ignore that part. 

I can't sleep properly. That sucks

I can't workout the way I want too. That really sucks.

I get a scooter. Pretty sweet.

I get to park in the disabled parking closer to ...EVERYTHING. Awesome.

ADDED 1/4/14: I was sitting on a chair in my living room today thinking about my broken ankle as I took a break from making another meal. In the past 4 days I've made more meals for my family then I have in the 10 years I've been married.
That's not to say my kids go without eating, they eat a lot. Most times it's quick easy foods like nuggets, or anything quick and easy and truly not good the best option for dinner.
I've started reading more to them, we've finished Fantastic Mr Fox and have moved on to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and I'm enjoying it as much as I hope they are.
I think breaking my ankle came at the best time possible, the beginning of the year, encouraging me to slow down and focus on what's important.
I'm thankful for this opportunity and the ability to recognize it.

Since when does your opinion impact who I am.

Let me start with a disclaimer, because in this day and age where people are easily offended, and quick to hate or blame it seems necessary.

DISCLAIMER:

This post is for me, about me. An affirmation of the thoughts I have, written (verbalized) communication of my personal conviction to my friends and family who know me, understand how I think and feel and still love me.

This is for those people. 

This is not a post to make someone struggling with body confidence feel inferior, or someone who does not know me question who I think I am. I know who I am. There is no PHD in my title so don't question the validity of my opinion. It's an opinion. Mine, about me; which is the only one that matters in my head.

I'm going to start by saying your opinion is irrelevant. Now before you go getting all upset and annoyed at me please, let me clarify. Your opinion is irrelevant in the matters of my life, how I think/feel/act and how I perceive myself. 

When I get up in the morning and decide to wear those blue and turquoise pants with the flowers my first thought isn't to seek your approval. I don't consider that in my choice.

When I decide what I'm going to eat for breakfast I don't think to myself, would you approve of this choice. You are not accountable for me.

So why would you give your accountability to me. Why would you give your freedom of thought and self worth to me.

Want to know what I'm talking about? The interesting backlash I've seen some women experience by sharing pictures they are proud of online. Pictures of pregnant women working out. Pictures of a mother of three in shape with the tagline "What's your excuse" causing an uproar. But why?

Why do we allow ourselves to feel either significant or insignificant when someone WE DON'T EVEN KNOW posts an article or picture online.

Since my big ol' lifestyle change a few months ago, I've been following a lot of random fitness people on instagram. I follow those individuals because as I move towards a healthier lifestyle and seek to make changes in the way I eat and food that entices me, it's good to see that others are working through the same thing. It helps motivate me or give me different ideas. With that being said, I don't know them. Following someone doesn't give me permission to tell them what they should and should not do, nor does it give them persmission or ownership of my opinion of myself.

I say this because as I read some of the comments people put on other people's pictures or shared stories I'm disheartened by the hate.

Example: Maria Kang shared some pictures of a body she worked hard to tone and tighten after having 3 kids with the caption "What's your excuse" and was met with hate. Women, what is wrong with us !?! Why do we do this to each other?

Another Example: A number of pregnant women posting pictures OF THEMSELVES, ON THEIR PROFILE PAGE in a number of social media forums. The backlash is crazy! Comments that these women are selfish and obsessed with being skinny .. since when did you have insight into the minds of other women? Women you don't even know? I don't know what they're thinking, how do you?
Unless you're a doctor, midwife or someone who is educated on what a pregnant women can and cannot do, you're just noise. My sister had a funnier way of putting it, she said if someone tried to come at her with negativity while pregnant her question would be "DO YOU KNOW MY CERVIX". I'll take that a little bit further and ask if you know her medical history and since it's my little sister I'd probably call you ugly and tell you to go away.

If I ever get to a point in my life where I have abs you could ACTUALLY see, like I am legitimately rocking a 6-pack in the abdominal area, you better believe I'm going to post a picture of that. Stretch marks and all. The work it would take to get to that point for me is unbelievably hard. If you try to tell me it's genetics, I'll cut you with a spoon.

If I get pregnant again and my doctor approves, and I have the energy to do so, you better believe I'm going to work out. And when I do, I'll be taking pictures of that and posting them. I do that now because I'm stoked with the progress I've been making in crossfit, why would that change?

And if you have an opinion on those pictures that spews hate, I'll delete it so you understand "your opinion of me is irrelevant".

That's what I meant. Now you can get upset.

Introducing ME 3.1

It's been a long time since I blogged and well, I'm feeling it tonight so I'm doing it.

It's been a crazy busy year so far for my little family and I've been pushing myself physically, mentally, always emotionally.

Tonight, I'm going to focus on the mental. Education.

I started doing my Generals to get my degree. Yeah yeah yeah, I should've done it earlier on in my life. What with moving countries, finding myself, marriage, kids, work, mortgages and life taking over it wasn't a priority for me these past 14 years.
Plus, I wasn't interested. Just ask 22 year old Dayna what she thought of structured learning and the "piece of worthless paper that just shows you know how to sit in a class and pass a test". Pffft.
She was a little bit stupid really.
So, I started online General Education requirements and completed my FIRST class, English 1010 at the most prestigious SLCC and it's been ... good.
Finding the time to do it has been challenging. I try not to procrastinate. Lateness One class, shouldn't really be too overwhelming right?
One full time insanely busy job that requires 40 - 60 hours a week, one very busy full time working husband who is currently in between international trips, two crazy little monkey/bear boys who play sports and have swimming lessons and go to school and day care + one class = minimal sleep and some crazy time management.
That one class is roughly 4 hours a week of reading, writing and general incompetence.
So I found out I passed my class, I didn't just pass, I got a A+. It's English 101, I better get a damn high mark.
And though it is a class that SHOULD be simple to get a high grade in I'm still stoked with myself. It's a representation to me, of the beginning of an achievement I now want to complete.
I mean, at the rate I'm going it's probably going to take me the next 10 years to complete this thing, but time is going to keep rolling by anyway, so I should do something I want to do.

The Ghetto Tooth Fairy

I'm sure by now my reader has long since forgotten me, sorry for losing your faith in me.

However, I'm back to impart wisdom on the masses, and this as most of my posts are, is about my children and the quality mothering I provide them with.

Mana lost his first tooth a few months ago and it was an exciting time for him! He had his little tooth in its little tooth container because it had fallen out at school. When I arrived to collect him for the day, he was so proud to show me his tooth, and I was excited (devastated) for him and this momentous occasion in his life.
On the ride home for the day he was telling me all about how he needed to put his tooth under his pillow and the tooth fairy would give him a silver dollar etc. 
Well, sorry son, I don't have time to go to the bank, so you get 4 quarters, all the quarters in my wallet!

Kiddie Convos

Koa: Kiki, have you got a hypothesis?

Kiki: Yes! Let's play the iPad!

Koa: Great hypothesis!

Me: Koa, do you know what a hypothesis is?

Koa: An idea Mummy.

Ok. Told by a 4yr old.

Those crazy ducks!

Hey Reader! 

It's been a while hasn't it?

Where have a I been?

Well ... living!

So, my big son has been busy. He started kindergarten in August so, our rather hectic schedule of work, daycare, karate, swimming just became ... more.

We were on skype to my parents in New Zealand, and Mana, my big boy, was showing his Grandma his homework.

When we got to a specific page with his homework, he didn't want to show it and he became quite shy.

He had explained to me earlier that he didn't know how to draw ducks and was rather upset about it.

So when I got to the page with the pictures of his ducks, I busted up laughing.

Yes. Agreed. As a parent I am killing my sons self confidence.

But sometimes? It's just funny!

So I read my mum the problem on skype:

"Five ducks were swimming in the pond. Two ducks flew away. Draw a picture and write a number sentence to show the number of ducks in the pond right now."

And here are the ducks.

I don't know about you, but I don't want to be around if these ducks are flying away from the pond. 

They might get you pregnant.

Is that your outfit, or a costume?

Do you think that sometimes or is it just me?
I'm both impressed and disgusted sometimes at the apparel people chose to adorn their bodies with.
Don't you see some of the things people wear sometimes and think "Why would you pay money for that?".

I love me some body confidence BUT I think we all need to be aware of our body shape, type, size, and what flatters YOU the most.

All this being said, is it terrible that I love winter?
It's too cold for people to flaunt all their skin (whether you want to see it, or not) it's winter uniform time.

And I don't mean to say that I don't like people's individuality, because I do.
I just wonder, sometimes, if you looked in the mirror and thought "I look good!" before you left your house, or if you know you're a mess?

No wonder I don't have friends.