Hot Mama Squad - SpaWeek!

On Monday night I attended my first blogger event hosted by Spa Week. The opportunity was literally handed to me by a blogger friend Janice at FitCheerleader. Janice is from Canada and couldn’t travel to NYC to attend, so I got very lucky! The event was a pre-launch to SpaWeek, which is October 10th-16th. SpaWeek is on a mission to pamper everyone, especially Mom across North America! During SpaWeek participating spas are offering $50 treatments including scrubs, massages, facials, pedicures, and get this, 78 LifeSpa locations are also offering free childcare for two hours – they know that us Mom’s need to get our relaxation on! Is that incredible or what? So not only was this an event I wanted to be at, but a program that I am happy to be associated with.

I was able to attend the event with a guest, so I lured one of my best friends with me, I dangled the chance at raffles, a goody bag and being able to have some of the wonderful spa treatments at SpaMerge to come with me; with the chance of a pedicure, manicure, facial, eye brow waxing and massages this was not an event to pass up!

When we arrived at the event we were both a little clueless, my friend is not a blogger, has no idea about twitter, and probably has no idea the internet exists…okay that’s pushing it but you get the point, we were greeted by the fabulous staff from SpaWeek, than the SpaMerge entourage welcomed us with mimosa’s, refreshing water and provided us with a wonderful array of spa treatments to choose from; we selected manicures, noshed on delish appetizers and met some adorable bloggers. I had fun conversations with Alicia from Mommy Delicious, Gina from Mommy Posh and the gals from Mommy Mingle. I probably should have worked the crowd a little more, but I was feeling a little sheepish, and once I latched onto these girls, it was all I needed.

The manicures provided from SpaMerge were fantastic, and a very talented waxer, Vicky who was featured in New York Times stalked me to get my eyebrows done, I turned her down a few times before I finally gave in, when else will I be able to get my eyebrows from a famed specialist, and free?!

Nonetheless, it was a really fun night, with some great women, at a wonderful, pleasant and relaxing venue. It was just what this mama needed! I’m also happy to to now be a proud member of the Hot Mom Spa Squad (#hotspamoms) which basically means that I’m one lucky lady –my major responsibility is to make sure that every mom out there gets pampered - check back here for Spa Gift Card giveaways, reviews and other fun spa related spa “stuff” that will help us all get our relaxation on.




Thank you SpaWeek!

Race Nine of Twelve: Westchester Triathlon

By Deanna

Sunday I participated in a Triathlon as part of a Relay. I selected to do the 25 mile bike portion of the Westchester Triathlon. For this relay, I was part of Team Donovan which supported Donovan, a young man that has been living with Freidreich Ataxia (FA) disease. FA disease is a rare, debilitating, life-shortening, degenerative neuro-muscular disorder. About one in 50,000 people in the United States have Friedreich's Ataxia.

I was proud to be riding for such a great cause, and although I didn’t have the chance to meet Donovan I met his parents, who are warm and wonderful people. Hopefully in Donovan’s lifetime we will see a cure for this disorder.

The race was located in Rye, New York starting and finishing at the Rye Playland in Westchester County. The race atmosphere was insane, there were about 50 elite athletes, and over ten college triathlon teams; college triathlon teams? Am I that old, never heard of this before? When did this start? Amazing!! Right? What was really exciting was all of the college teams did their collegiate chant, at first I have to admit it was annoying because I was intimated but by the time we got to the water for the starts they were actually motivating and inspiring.

As I took a glance at the field of athletes I was in complete AWE. The bodies were chiseled works of art; the athletes were as young as 18, old as 74 and everything in between. It was really amazing to see all the athletes getting pumped and ready to go. Me, I was intimidated!

When we got to the water there were twelve start waves. It was neat to watch all the colored caps running into the water, by time my brother-in-law (the swimmer and runner of our team) got off it was thirty minutes after the first wave. As I started my way back to the transition area to get ready, I knew I had at least 30 minutes to get situated, pumped and ready to go. I really wasn’t worried about the bike at all. I was advised by my sister, a seasoned runner and triathlete that there were two tough climbs. Just two tough climbs, what’s to worry? In my mind I thought I could handle that. I knew I wanted to finish in at least 2 hours, hoping for 1:45. I didn’t train on the bike as much as I should have, but I was training for my half that is coming up this weekend, and really needed to run. So I thought I’d do okay. Well, I should have trained more because my two bike rides – eight and eleven miles did not prepare me for the killer hills throughout this entire course of 25 of the toughest frigging miles of my life.

I Know This Much Is True

By Deanna




*You can’t control crazy, I’ve said this before, but it’s true. Craziness at work again, really always, it's such a disfunctional place to work. I couldn't take it on because I can’t control what’s not in my control. So.Be.It. was my attitude, and maybe it was my defense mechanism, but it helped me not get to a really depressed place. A depressed Deanna is not good. Nevertheless, the outcome of the craziness is even worse than what we expected and it just sickens me - I have to believe in Karma and what goes around, otherwise I may have to take out the Italian horns...for now, though I'll let the Universe handle it.

*Riding 24 miles on a bike this weekend as part of a Tri Relay, excited to get on the bike, but gotta be honest, afraid of a spill with my fifth half marathon only days away, yikes!

*The three year old bugger is a ball hog - we knew this when he played T-Ball, but in soccer, oh my goodness, it's a little embarrassing. I have one that is afraid to be aggressive, and one that is way too aggressive. OY. To. The. Vey.

*My boys fight like they are competing in Wrestle Mania on a daily basis and it drives me crazy, bat shit crazy, why do they have to wrestle like that? It's so violent, annoying, and LOUD.

*My fifth half marathon is only days away...eight days to be exact! EXCITIED!!!

How To Avoid Injury When Training For A Half Marathon

By Deanna



My fifth half marathon is exactly 11 days away. I’m running, for the second year, the Diva Half Marathon. This half marathon is part of the Diva Running Series that hosts half marathons in various cities throughout the US. Last year was the inaugural race on Long Island; it was a lot of fun: boas’, champagne, hot firemen at the finish line but it was one of my worst half marathons – I didn’t take training seriously. You can read that epic half marathon fail here.

This year will be different. I took the training seriously, but not so seriously that I was stressed out about every run. I incorporated much more speed work (tempo’s, intervals) than ever before, as well as focused on strength and core.

I’m not expecting any miracles to run a sub 2:00 half marathon, but I will for the first time push myself outside my comfort zone. I’m ready to do it. I’ve never left it all on the course before, even though I’ve had intentions to do so in the past, I wimped out. WIMPED OUT! Read my fourth half marathon which was another epic FAIL.

This half marathon I decided to tag along with a friend that is doing the same race; her pace is faster than mine. I NEVER run with anyone, so it makes me nervous. I usually sign up for races with a ton of people (this year I know seven people running), so I do partake in a few training runs here and there, but when I run the race, I run solo and just meet up at the finish line. I HATE the pressure of running with peeps that are faster than me, it's stressful! And sometimes talking and running just don't mix. I know I will totally need my music but we are both aiming for the same time, I think I need the support, so I asked her to run together. So nervous! I did make it clear that if I am holding her back that she needs to just pull ahead.

Like all my other half marathons while training I get real nervous that I will injure myself in some really silly way. Here are the top five things that scare the crap out me, and how I try to avoid injury while training for a half marathon:

*Little plastic animals, matchbox cars, soccer balls, and the random shoe are huge obstacles in my house. I’m terrified that I’ll twist an ankle or fall on my ass when I accidently trip or step on one of these objects. These are land mines for me, and I avoid them at ALL cost. For about three weeks before the half you can hear me a mile away screaming at the kids on a daily basis: “Pick up everything on the floor or it’s getting thrown out”.

*Heels, I try to refrain from wearing any heels for about three weeks before the half. If I have to wear a heel than I aim for a wedge, they are easier to balance on.

*Stairs. If I could take the stairs like a toddler on my butt I would but since that would be ridiculous and not to mention insane, I take them slow and steady baby, slow and steady.

*Any aerobic activity other than Running or Biking is forbidden. I’m not risking an injury in Zumba, kickboxing or step class. I'm not coordinated, I’m lucky I run straight (actually I don’t I always veer to the left, and must run on the left side of the road at all times) and the cardio burn is not high enough to coax me into going especially three weeks before my half marathon.

*Since showering is essential, I diligently perform a little ritual: The night before I make sure that before the boys exit the bath that they pick up every toy and than I run the water so that there is no slippery shampoo or soap left over, this is a guarantee that in the morning I don't do a Jerry Lewis slip, fall and bust a knee cap.

These I believe are totally rational, right? I'm not completely losing my mind am I? Maybe I am taking this training too seriously??

Happy Trails!

How I Became A Soccer Mom

By Deanna







My name is Deanna, and I'm a soccer mom.

I never thought it would happen, here is my story.

For years I laughed, sneered and snickered at all the soccer moms many my friends; I relentlessly teased my sister when she said that she loved watching her son play and just couldn’t miss a game. I mocked my co-worker who said she was “that mom” that screams on the side-lines, that instructs the coach how to coach, and gets upset when her son doesn’t play.

My seven year old son played soccer when he was three and four; at three they played games but he was so not interested. He literally picked the weeds from the field and would run over and hand them to me. Adorable yes, but frustrating when ten other three year olds are trying to chase the ball and your son is he’s literally laying on his belly on the grass, selecting pretty flowers for his mama. At age four, there were no games, it was an instructional league where they just run drills each week. The coach was horrible and spent the practices kicking the ball in the air trying to see how high it could go as ten four year olds oohed and aahed; that bored him to tears, plus there were no flowers for him to pick.

From ages five to seven my son played T-Ball, and last year he was on the swim team. Soccer was not an option; each year when sign-ups came around we’d ask if he wanted to play and in such disdain like I just poured vinegar on his tongue he’d reply: “NO, it’s boring we don’t verse anyone”. Ummm, okay. Case closed.

When sign-ups came around this year, I figured I’d ask the same question, and expect the same response; when Richie replied yes with as much enthusiasm as if I told him that he can spend the next school year at Disney, I wet my pants. I literally wet my pants, no I did. I had to change them. I was dumbfounded. In shock. Almost speechless, almost is the key word as I peppered him with “You want to play soccer? Really? That’s awesome! Oh my gosh!! It’s going to be so much fun; we have to get cleats, a ball, shin guards, blah blah blah BLAH… ”

I was excited for him to try something else, because as any other mom I want him to find his niche, the sport that he loves and so enjoys. I had that, my husband had that and I want it for my children. When I played sports I didn’t care about winning, I didn’t care about riding the bench, I just loved being on a team, practicing, laughing and bonding with my friends. I love the aspect of being on a sports team, the camaraderie, the support, the friendships you make - these things are irreplaceable, life lessons plus you learn leadership, sportsmanship and how to compromise among many other things. Playing on a sports team I feel is very different than being in the science club, which is equally rewarding and important and I want my little guys to do both. But that's another post.

Needless to say I was pumped for him but I assured myself that wasn’t going to be one of those moms on the sidelines screaming “great shot”, or “c’mon ref”, or “nice pass” at the kids on the team. First of all, I know NOTHING about soccer how could I comment on anything? Second, really? Screaming on the sidelines? It's seven year old soccer, get a grip.

Sunday morning when the game started I was in a state of panic. Panic. PANIC. I was so nervous that he would make a big error and his teammates would shun him, he never played before, I was nervous for my baby, I wanted him to do well so that he’d have the confidence to go to the next game. My baby was playing well, he's not Beckham (not yet anyway) but he was holding his own, I was so very proud of him, and this was only two minutes into the game. A two whole minutes and I was screaming “great shot ____ (fill in any team members name)” and it didn’t stop there.

I was now a soccer mom.

It took two minutes to turn my ass into a soccer mom, faster than it takes to google "soccer mom." But I swear to God I’m not going to wear "high waisted jeans” and I’m not getting a fricking bob.

Not happening.

My Seven Year Old's Fast-Food Throw-Down

By Deanna




Yesterday, when I picked the boys up from my mother’s after work I needed to lure them into the car and the only thing I had up my sleeve was the threat of "there will be no surprise if you do not behave and get into that car". Since I NEVER planned a surprise I was up a creek without a paddle; I had to think of something on the spot: Pizza? Ice-cream after dinner?

As I am writing this it never occurred to me NOT to use food as a surprise but in my defense it was dinner time. Nevertheless I choose McDonalds; it was quick easy and had a play park.

The minute I uttered McDonalds as the "surprise" the boys screamed with excitement as if we just won the lottery, the yippees! the YES!! The hollering was deafening.

When we arrived at McDonalds we placed our orders with relative ease, there was no fighting or running around the store as if they were being chased by Freddy Kruger, this was shaping up to be a decent dining experience.

When we found our table and popped open the happy meal my seven year old immediately noticed that the fry container was significantly smaller. He didn’t complain just asked why I didn’t get him the regular size. I simply explained to him that McDonalds changed things up; satisfied with the answer he started to dig right in. I was pleasantly surprised with the change, it's half the size of the small fries, food wouldn’t be wasted, it's just enough for a child, and most importantly I won't pick at the leftovers. Winning.


White package is the small...see the difference?

I Know This Much Is True

By Deanna




*Being organized (i.e: clothes laid out /ironed the night before, all lunches made, getting dressed, eating breakfast, teeth brushed and face washed BEFORE TV goes on in the morning) is definitely the key to happines and getting my children to school on time. Week two, day three ON TIME! I AM very proud of myself, this may seem ridiculous to some, but to me a MAJOR accomplishment - read this!

*People don’t change, and I can’t change them so why am I wasting my time? My motto over the last year has been “Don’t expect someone to be something they’re not.” I need to heed my own advice.

*This week ‘Killing ‘em with Kindness’ has been really hard. I work with very difficult people, I really can’t understand the audacity, greed and lack of respect (not just for me but human kind in general)that these people have; how they conduct themselves on a daily basis is astonishing and although I should “consider the source” some days I just can’t keep my big mouth shut and that gets me in A LOT of trouble. Like today. Oops!!

*Life is too short, money, objects, "things" means absolutely nothing, and means even less if you don't have your health to enjoy them. Stop the bullshit, exercise three times a week, eat right at least 85% of the time, be your own best advocate, go to the doctor when you have a "feeling" who cares if they think you're a hypochondriac!

*Kindness, love, caring, help comes in ALL forms, don't be afraid to ask. This week I reached out to Rebecca a "Twitter Friend" who jumped through hoops to help me and my friend - two people she never met NOW that's paying it forward threefold !!!

*Whether you think can or can’t, you’re right - Henry Ford

How Many Pet Goldfish Does A Child Really Need?

By Deanna



My biggest littlest bugger Richie seven years old has such a piece of my heart, and it’s not because he’s the oldest, because his bundle of love bull-in-a-china shop three soon-to-be-four year old brother has the other part of my heart it’s because as grown as he seems at seven he is still the most innocent adorable kid on this planet.

Richie loves animals, he considers himself an “Animal Expert” and as you may have read here and here actually stumped Jungle Jack Hannah at a live show, when we went to the Bronx Zoo he asked the Bear Keeper a question that just about stumped him as well, so he may as well be an animal expert. Richie also spits out animal facts like rainman whether they are right or not is questionable but the confidence that he spews out these facts is just uncanny. When he came home from school the other day with an “All About Me” project he wrote that his favorite place is “The Pet Store” and his favorite thing is “his lizard”. Fricking cute.

As you may suspect, it’s all about animals in my house. I’ve read more books about animals in his seven years than I have in my lifetime, I could probably act as Jungle Jack Hannah’s assistant but not really cause I really don't like animals. I like them but don’t need them as pets.

Which brings me to yesterday when Richie and his brother brought home two goldfish that they won at a crappy Church festival, why my husband allowed them to play the game is besides me, not smart parenting at all. Me, a very smart parent would have steered their children in the direction of the cotton candy or ice-cream, I’d rather suffer the pain of the sugar high before I have to care for another animal, I have two children, a husband, a goldfish and a lizard, do I need another pet?

Three goldfish now. Really, is that necessary? Last year we won “Goldy” at the church festival, three weeks ago my husband brought “Swimmy” home from the pet store that swam in the tank with Goldy for about a day before Swimmy attacked and killed Goldy. Poor Goldy, he was the senior Goldfish that got ousted, but clearly no retirement package, "golden umbrella" or dreams of living in a goldfish golf resort for him, just the old Pet Heaven in the sky.

Now Swimmy, Matthew (the fish) and Jo Jo are in the tank together, and I have a feeling that Swimmy may attack these two unsuspecting goldfish. More fish casualties are definitely in our future.

Nevertheless, Richie is convinced they will be okay because they already swam together in a big tank and are use to saying “excuse me” to each other. How innocent and adorable is that?

And then this morning Richie told me that he thinks Swimmy may have killed Goldy because he wasn’t “gold” enough and that he thinks Matthew (the fish) and Jo Jo will be okay. Heart melting.

But I think Richie should be more concerned with Matthew (his brother) than Swimmy because after Richie told me that he thought Matthew (the fish) and Jo Jo would be okay, I found Matthew (his brother) with his hand in the fish tank trying to pet them. Adorable as well, but completely disgusting and not how I wanted to start my day.

Needless to say, I scrubbed Matthews (the brother) hand and gave up a quick prayer that Matthew (the fish) and Jo Jo would indeed survive the tank with Swimmy and Matthew (the brother) lurking around; because if Matthew (the brother) hurts Swimmy, Jo Jo or Matthew (the fish) the causalities will be far greater than three goldish floating at the top of a tank, and I’ll need a stiffer drink than my seltzer water!

United We Stand.

By Deanna



We can all recount our experiences of that horrible day, where we were, what we were doing hell what we were wearing.

As a born and bred New Yorker I feel a different connection to 9/11 personally attacked if you will – I know that island, I’ve walked those streets were thousand were running from, I interviewed in those Towers, but honestly I think the entire country became New Yorkers that day.

United We Stand.

New York, Pennsylvania, DC, California, Georgia, South Carolina, North Dakota, damn citizens from every corner of the country lost their lives, citizens from every corner of the world lost their lives.

We came together.

North. South. East. West. It didn't matter where you were from we were all scared, nervous, lives changed...

Forever.

I drank in all the stories of lives being saved because of late trains, over sleeping or stopping for coffee, I relished those stories and was addicted to TV for weeks hoping they'd find miracles in the rubble. I prayed and hope they'd be pockets and pockets of survivors. Miracles happen, right? I’d ask my husband, at the time a NYC police officer.

But there were none.

I couldn't understand and may never.

It seems like yesterday, I still can't believe its 10 years. My heart still hurts for all the families that lost their loved ones, for the horror that they have to relive every day, for the terror in our souls when the anniversary passes, for our country and world that has forever changed and for our children that now live so differently; they will never know freedom as we knew it.

As this anniversary passes I'll watch in disbelief. Again. I'll cry when I hear the names of all the people I knew being read on TV, I'll absorb all the stories and I'll walk away. I can walk away but I’ll walk away changed. Again.

And

I'll never forget.

Do You Live In Black, White or Grey?

By Deanna




My grandma a wise woman would always say "everything in moderation" this coming from an off-the-boat Italian who spoke broken English, could cook Lydia, Mario Batali and Giada DeLaurentiis under the table with two hands behind her back, this, my little ‘ole Grandma understood completely that it’s okay to indulge in everything in life but if you do indulge do it in moderation - so it doesn’t affect your life or your health. Me, not so much.

I’ve only heard my grandma say this once with a wooden spoon in her hand hovering over a pot of delicious gravy (ooohhh that gravy, I can taste it if I tried); however I’ve heard my Aunts and Dad repeat it on a regular basis. I love the expression, it’s on a constant loop in my head but for some reason I have trouble living with. I believe it, I really do but I haven’t adopted it, yet, well not 100% anyway.

A few weeks ago one of my dearest friends in the world and I decided that we’d take this “everything in moderation” on like gangbusters. We’ve been on this healthy get fit journey together for three years. We've had our successes and our failures. We decided to dub our “everything in moderation” as “living in the grey”. Why living in the grey? Because with our emotional eating issues, our exercising, our healthy living journey, we are black and white. Planning, packing lunches and exercising like Jane Fonda or eating our way to China and back. Our ultimate goal is to dig deep and get to the crux of our emotional eating issues, actually manage it instead of falling prey like a zebra to a lion.

Our thoughts are: if we’re being hammered at work try not to take solace in that snickers bar, if the kids are driving us insane don’t shove chips down your throat at the sink wishing that they’d “just stop talking”. Our goal is to determine what is driving us to eat, and why we need to fill that black hole with ho-ho’s. We also realized that when we do indulge that we need to leave the guilt behind, make wise choices when going out, if we forget to pack snacks choose the banana over the pretzels, the nuts over the chips, and the chips over the 500 calorie cookies. If we’re going out for drinks have two instead of five but if we’re out to dinner, have the ten drinks, the NY strip, mashed potatoes, and the apple crumble by all means do not feel guilty about it, you move on. YOU MOVE ON.

Next decision, better choice.

I Know This Much Is True

By Deanna




*Today is the first day of school and I have first day jitters for my son. I am definitely more nervous for my second grader than he was, I also cried when I dropped him off. I’m a big baby but that’s my boy!

*I'm still hung over from Saturday. Even though I think I can act like I'm 21 and drink like a fish I can't recover as if I'm 21, therefore even if I feel like I'm 21 I have to act like I'm at least 31, when in fact I'm 41.

*I may never be able to look at my favorite drink Frozen Lemonade and Vodka again, and that makes me sad. Can we say over indulged ?

*My fifth half marathon is in four weeks, and I’m so excited! I feel prepared and can’t wait to get some speed work done these next couple of weeks, of course after my hangover wears off.

Can I have ANOTHER late pass?

By Deanna




I’m dreading the first day of school more than my children. I’m dreading the bedtime fights, the early rise, making school lunches, hearing myself…hearing myself scream at the boys every morning to get dressed, eat breakfast, and brush their teeth, and get out the door, I’m dreading my son being late almost every day. I’m dreading it all.

Each year I start off with such good intentions of early bedtimes, breakfast at the table instead of in front of the TV, of not being late, of so not being late, and of course not screaming my head off each and every day. Last year I was late the very first day of school. Do I need to go on? That was terribly disappointing and set the tone for the entire year. I tried really hard and managed to get progressively get a better system in place, but it wasn’t good enough, I made my son late a total of 53 days. Worst part – we live seven houses from the school. SEVEN HOUSES. GASP!

Horrible. Deplorable. Unacceptable. I hang my head in shame.

Being late made me stressed out five days a week. It was so unfair to my son who seven out of ten times started his day late, frazzled and being the “late kid”. He was late so many times the hall monitors could spell his last name on her own, people do you see my last name? I know sure as the sun in the sky that his teacher walked into the teachers’ lounge with his card saying “43 lates! Richie V 43 lates! “ And then they all got a good ole chuckle and slapped the label “late mom” onto me.

I could care less about the label what I don’t want is my son starting his day late, which means he starts his school work late and is playing “hurry up and catch up” his entire day. He’s an amazing student, and being consistently late can change that, and I don’t want that for him. As a student in today’s society there are so many more opportunities now than I ever had, I want to give my sons a fighting chance.

And I’m all to blame, me being his mother is an almost guarantee that he’ll be in some sort of therapy by 24, so I can’t be blamed for one more thing. Really I can’t, and to be honest, the stress to not be late is as overwhelming as actually being late.

So this year, I start another year with good no great intentions. I intend to put better systems in place, to make all of our lunches at night, to make sure that we all get to bed at a decent time, to lay out and iron our clothes before bed, to limit the number of things I do in the morning (the laundry, dishes, watching TV and tweeting—yeah that hurts!), I vow not to be late EVER. Okay, maybe not ever but a lot I vow not to be late a lot.

Hey, I gotta start small, I don’t want to fail and it will sure be inevitable if I set my goals too high. Logical eh?

Intentions count in your actions. ~ Abu Bakr

We have a choice every day - to act on yesterday's good intentions or get an
early start on tomorrow's regrets. ~Robert Brault