I haven't been around much since last week, sorry about the lack of posts and engagement. I'm still here. Well, actually today my friend Heather from High Heels & Flip-Flops is back with her second Love Your Body post, take it away Heather...

Love Your Body: Jumping Into Fitness

I still remember it as if it were yesterday – all of the tall, athletic kids zipping right past me in slick new sneaks as I huffed and puffed my way around the middle school track in beat-up Kmart kicks, struggling to complete a three-mile run in the Southern California heat. Then, and for years afterward, I considered myself a fitness failure, assuming that if I couldn’t be as fast and fabulous as the other kids, I might as well not work out at all.

That unhealthy mindset stayed with me well into my mid-20s, when a slowing metabolism finally compelled me to start running and attending cardio classes, something I should have done much sooner – not out of vanity, but in an effort to keep my heart healthy and prevent disease. Still, try as I might, I never truly loved any of the workouts I attempted, and over time, I would lapse out of them and straight back into my old, unhealthy ways.

All of that changed, however, this time for good, when my husband and I discovered an hour-long Flight Fit class at a local Northern Virginia trampoline park last August, just one month ahead of my 31st birthday. I’d recently gotten back from a food- and drink-filled trip to my California hometown, felt tired and overweight, and was certainly not loving my body or doing all that I could to take care of it. Plus, jumping was something I’d done with my friends for fun as a teenager, so how hard could it be?

As it turned out, very. That first workout, and the ones that immediately followed, knocked me flat on my back, leaving me sore for days afterward. Slowly and surely, though, I started getting better over time and realizing that I’d finally found something I actually enjoyed and would happily stick with week after week, month after month.  

Today, I attend Flight Fit most Wednesdays and Saturdays, and try to do Jillian Michaels DVDs in between sessions to keep my strength up. I’ll never be the most athletic person in my class, or the most flexible. But rather than comparing myself to others, I now focus on my own abilities and accomplishments, celebrating just how strong my muscles are becoming, that I’m able to jump longer without getting winded, and that I’m actually having fun while doing something good for my body. 

At long last, I understand what I never grasped back in the middle school – that exercise isn’t about having the fastest time or wearing the trendiest sneakers. Instead, it’s about loving your body and valuing your health, embracing your imperfections and challenging yourself to be the very best you can be.

So, even if you don’t currently consider yourself an exerciser, or think you’ll never find the right workout, I encourage you to keep trying. Find something – anything – you enjoy, and stick with it. Listen to your body, knowing when to push harder and when to rest. Love yourself enough to value your health, but at the same time, don’t beat yourself up for having a rough day or skipping a workout. Be kind to yourself, and to your body, and cherish every day that you are here to live and love your life.


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Wow, I feel like Heather is reading my thoughts right now! I am learning to not beat myself up for having an off day, but I'm also realizing that I need to push myself a little harder. 

Whatever your health goals are for this year; eating more fruits and veggies, taking a walk every day, being more positive, make sure one of them is to love your body. 

Thanks for sharing your story with us Heather, you are an inspiration and I know someone reading will be motivated by your words. 

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Love Your Body: High Heels & Flip-Flops

Today one of my long time blogger friends is sharing a sneak peek into a post she originally featured last year on her own blog. Then next week she will be sharing a new perspective of what Love Your Body means to her. 

Say hello to my friend Heather from High Heels & Flip-Flops...

Love Your Body: Perfectly Porcelain

“You need to take off that rash guard and get some color.” While comments about my pale, porcelain skin could easily make me feel insecure, instead, they just make me all the more dedicated to preventing skin cancer and loving my natural tone. Check out my story excerpt below, and take a moment to feel gorgeous in your own spectacular skin!

Why I Don’t Tan (For Faux or For Real)

Originally published via High Heels & Flip-Flops

It’s that time of year again when everyone inevitably starts talking about tanning, whether it comes from a bottle or directly from the sun itself. It’s also the time when some people feel the need to state that this here porcelain-skinned blogger needs to “get some color.”

My response? I don’t do tans, nor will I ever. First and foremost, I have no desire to risk getting skin cancer, something I’ve seen people of all ages fight, just for the sake of obtaining a fleeting glow. Second, I have no interest in any bottled bronzer on the market, because the honest truth is, I don’t mind being pale. It’s just who I am, how I have always looked, and not something I feel the need to justify to anyone else.

It saddens me to hear fellow smart, talented, beautiful women saying things like, “Please excuse the circles under my eyes,” or “I'm so pale in that picture,” as if we need to apologize for the way we look or preempt others' negative judgment. This especially strikes a chord with me because I've done it, too, putting myself down verbally or in writing, allowing others’ opinions to make me feel insecure. And the one time I did break down and try one of those “facial glow” creams? Along with it causing my skin to freak out, I also thought I looked completely ridiculous.

Want to continue reading? Check out the full post at High Heels & Flip Flops. 

You can also find Heather on Social Media:

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Thanks for stopping by, be sure to email me if you'd like to share your own Love Your Body story. 

xoxo

Live, Love, Learn

We're never prepared for death, even if we know it's coming. We know death is eventually going to happen for us all, but it just never gets easier when we have to say goodbye. 

With social media connecting us again to friends and loved ones we haven't seen in a while, it feels even heavier when we learn of someone's passing. How is it possible that this person could be gone today when just yesterday we saw them share a photo on Facebook and Instagram? HOW?! 

I'm still trying to understand and wrap my head around a recent tragedy that happened to my childhood friend. Though I still don't understand it, I'm grateful for the opportunity to reconnect with her. My heart hurts for her family; her husband and three young children, her parents and in-laws, her siblings, and extended family.  

Death of someone so young always reminds me to appreciate every day a little more, to slow down and enjoy the moment instead of trying to share it on social media, and to capture more memories. 

So, while you may see less of me on social media, know that I am here; living, loving and learning. 

There is a fund my friend's family has put together in her memory and to help her husband and children who are 6, 4, and 2. If you can help, any dollar amount is appreciated. Click here.

Thanks for stopping by today. 

xoxo

Love Your Body: Hippy Juice Mama

It's Wednesday and that means it's time for another Love Your Body guest post. Thank you for following along, if you missed the first post in the series featuring Just Plain Marie check it out here and my intro post here. Okay enough from me, take it away Alicia...

Hi! I'm Alicia from Hippy Juice Mama, where I write about life, finding my voice, and slowly transitioning my family to a natural lifestyle. I'm a recovering people pleaser journeying through life to become the person I was meant to be.

Looking in the mirror I see a face that's puffy, facial hair that shouldn't be there, dark circles, and acne. I move back a little and take notice of the rest of my body. My stomach is protruding and I sigh to myself and worry if another person will ask me today if I'm expecting, knowing that when I say no I will try to laugh it off while secretly chocking back tears. My shoulders slouch. My thighs are bigger and my body is covered in stretch marks from my breasts down to my calves.

When I was a teenager I was so very skinny. I could eat whatever I wanted and not gain a pound. Fast forward to 2 kids, PCOS (poly cystic ovarian syndrome), and Hashimotos (autoimmune thyroid disorder) later I can barely recognize this person I see in the mirror.

Shopping now sucks. It just flat out sucks! The brands I once loved now fit my body in a really awkward way. The lighting in dressing rooms are just terrible, why do they do this don't they want to sell clothes?

When I'm ready to cry and just throw on something comfy and stretchy I take another look in the mirror.

Yes there is more fluff there than there once was and I will never be able to wear a bikini again but I have a body that carried two beautiful children. I have a body that is fighting daily against an autoimmune disease.

There are more and more days lately that I look in the mirror and see curves and not fluff. I'm learning to appreciate my body and know that the size of my jeans has nothing to do with the size of my heart. I don't have the moves like Jagger or a booty like Beyoncé, but I shake what my momma gave me weekly in Zumba and I participate in 5ks even though I feel like it may kill me.

My body is imperfect and it will be imperfect until the day I die. One day I'll have grey hair or maybe no hair at all (by evidence of my shower floor). I'll have wrinkles and flabby loose skin. But it'll still be the same arms that held sleeping babies, it'll still be the same body that was embraced by my husband, and it'll be the same body that I have come to care for and love.

You can find me on:

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I love that each Love Your Body story is different and unique, and that's because each one of these awesome ladies sharing their story is unique. If you'd like to share your story email me at TheWorldAroundHer(at)gmail(dot)com. 

Thanks for stopping by, have a great day! 

Love Your Body: Just Plain Marie

I'm so excited to share my first featured guest blogger in the Love Your Body series. Please give a warm welcome to Marie of Just Plain Marie... 

I'm Marie of Just Plain Marie -   I write about off-grid homesteading, simple living and preparedness. Homesteading essentially means striving towards living as self-sufficiently as possible, wherever you are, specifically regarding food. Off-grid means that we produce our own power - wood heat and solar electricity - and that we have a private well and septic. Yes, our family is completely off-grid (and fridgeless, too!)

There is a funny little graphic I saw recently that said, “I wish I were as thin as I was back when I thought I was fat.”

There’s a grain of truth in that.

Not much more than a grain, mind you.

We women are taught, from a very young age, to be embarrassed by our bodies, bashful about our achievements and humble about our skills.

As an example, we have all heard men bragging about something they do well. “You need to come over for my next barbecue. I make the best barbecued hamburgers in the neighborhood. No, the city. Wait, wait, make that the country. They should feature me on one of those celebrity cook shows. No, you can’t have my secret recipe, because it’s a secret.”

Compare that to a woman, when a friend compliments her amazing chocolate cake. “Well, thanks. Yes, I suppose I’m a pretty good baker. But a friend gave me the recipe. It’s not like I created it myself. And you should see the dust bunnies under my couch. Seriously, your house is SO much nicer than mine. I wish I could keep house like you do.”

Let’s put a stop this idea that we need to be modest and self-effacing all the time. Do you know what? I’m a darn good writer. I write well and I love to do it. And I’m smart, too. I’m friendly and sincere and I love people.

Let’s get down to the physical, though. Oh, yea, I’m going to go there.

You see, I am a 42 year old mother of six with a sweet tooth. I don’t wear makeup or fashionable clothes and I haven’t been to a hairdresser in seven years. Let me tell you about me and why I’m awesome from head to toe. 

Normally if you meet me, I’d be wearing my hair in a bun with a head covering. That’s not because I’m ashamed of anything, but because my glory is my hair and it’s a private thing. (It’s okay if that doesn’t make sense to you. Really. I’m secure enough in what I value and want that I’m not threatened when it doesn’t make sense to someone else.) My hair is waist-length, thick and wavy. When I was a child, someone called it “mouse brown”, but there’s nothing dull or mousey about it.  My toddler has my hair and now I understand why my mother always loved my hair. There are a few gray streaks in it, but I have many friends who have more. I absolutely love my hair and I spend a lot of time brushing it (and my daughter’s!). When I brush it, I can feel the scars from my brain surgery and I remember that eight years ago, I had to shave my head so that the surgeon could remove an egg-sized tumor.

I have wrinkles. They crinkle out from my eyes – crow’s feet is what people call those. They come from wrinkling up your eyes from laughing and smiling a lot. And deep creases – laugh lines – run up my cheeks beside my mouth. Even my worry lines across my forehead … they’re from worrying and praying and fretting over my children. If your face at twenty is the one you were born with and your face at forty is the one you’ve earned, then I’ve worked hard for every wrinkle. I love my wrinkles.

I have scars. From breast reduction surgery, from carrying six big babies, from living and working. There’s a tiny scar on my finger where I jabbed myself with a knife at my first job. There’s a bigger one by my eye where my cousin almost took my eye out with a rock. They tell the story of my life. I love my scars. My hands look old. They are not smooth and young looking anymore. They look like the hands of a woman who washes dishes, shovels manure, digs in the garden and is too busy for hand cream. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, because that’s who I am. My nails are short and bitten, a bad habit that I’ve never been able to break. Some people now say that it’s related to OCD. Regardless, they’re my hands, and I love them.

Over the past twenty years, I have carried, birthed and nursed six beautiful children. They have left their marks on my breasts and my belly, each baby adding to that road map of stretch marks until they reach all the way to my breasts. In fact, they left their marks on my insides, too, and I had a hysterectomy and internal “nip and tuck” to try and fix things. I think now of the pathetic jokes I used to hear about women no longer being women after hysterectomy. It’s not true. I have not lost what makes me a woman, and no surgery could take it away.

Finally, I’m tiny. Well, chubby and cuddly, sure, but tiny in height. I’m all of five feet tall (somehow, over the past twenty years, I lost the half inch that I was always so proud of!). My hands are tiny and I can buy size 4 children’s boots, which are warmer and less expensive.

It’s a pretty awesome body, let me tell you. I don’t really wish I were as thin now as I was when I thought I was fat, but I do wish that, back then, I had actually realized how beautiful I really was … and still am.

You can find me and connect with me on:

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And finally, if you'd like a sneak peek at my food storage cookbook, and would like to know as soon it is is released, follow my newsletter at http://justplainmarie.ca/p/signup.html

World's Best Baked Mac & Cheese

I'm pretty certain my youngest step-daughter made us the best baked mac & cheese recipe ever for dinner last night!  

She searched Googled and stumbled upon a recipe featured on CHOW from a restaurant in California called Homeroom, turns out making Mac & Cheese is their specialty. I might book a vacation for us to Cali just to go to this magical mac & cheese restaurant! 

We couldn't locate the grated Pecorino Romano cheese (well, because I just realized we were looking in the wrong place!) that the recipe called for, so instead we used a shredded Italian blend that included Romano. It still turned out really amazing, and who knows maybe it turned out even better than the original recipe! 

You start the recipe by making a white sauce, called a béchamel. Next you stir in your measured amount of cheeses (grated Romano or shredded Italian blend plus shredded aged sharp cheddar) and cook over medium heat until melted. Then you pour in the cooked macaroni, mix together, pour it all into a baking dish, top it off with Panko bread crumbs and bake it in the oven to complete the recipe. (You could also serve as is instead of baking it, but then it wouldn't be called baked mac & cheese!)

Ingredients: 

For the Béchamel

• 4 cups whole milk
• 8 tbsp unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup all purpose flour
• 1 tbsp kosher salt

Other Ingredients: 

• Kosher Salt
• 1 lb elbow macaroni
• 3 cups shredded 6 months aged sharp cheddar cheese
• 1 cup shredded Italian blend cheese
• 2/3 Panko bread crumbs 

Directions: 

For the Béchamel

1. Heat milk in medium saucepan over medium-high heat until it comes to a simmer, turn off heat and set aside.
2. In a large saucepan, melt unsalted butter over medium heat. Add flour and whisk for about three minutes or until the mixture turns into a light brown color.  Remove from heat.
3. While whisking, slowly add the hot milk to the flour mixture until combined. (It may look thick when first added, but will thin out.)
4. Return the saucepan to medium heat and continue to whisk. Cook until the sauce thickens, about three minutes. Stir in 1 tablespoon of salt and season with additional salt if needed. Remove from heat and set aside.

To Complete the Recipe:

1. Place your oven rack in the middle and pre-heat to 400°F.
2. Back to the top of your stove, cook pasta in boiling salted water until it just about reaches al dente,  drain and rinse with cold water, and set aside. 
3. Place the saucepan of béchamel over medium heat and stir in both cheeses until melted. Pour in the pasta and continue cooking for about four minutes, stir occasional until the pasta is heated through. Next, pour all ingredients into a 3-quart baking dish, top off with Panko bread crumbs, and bake for about 30 minutes or until brown on top. 
4. Remove from oven, let cool for a minute or two and enjoy!

Recipe modified from CHOW

Do you have a go to mac & cheese recipe? I would love to hear about it and try it out, well let my step-daughter try it out while I assist! 

Thanks for stopping by, don't forget tomorrow is my first featured guest blogger in my new Love Your Body series, come back to show support for blogger Just Plain Marie. 

Hello May...

The end of April gave my family some good news and some bad. There are going to be some busy and exciting days ahead for us, but also some really tough days for one of my family members. Please send good vibes, prayers, and love. Not sharing any details, but I may not be posting as much. But will still be hosting the Love Your Body series and you can find me on Porch.com too if you don't see me on here. 

Make the best of May, make the best of every day and fill it with love and family. 

xoxo