Exercise Routines Weight Loss/ Healthy Living

Killer Routine for your Chest, Quadriceps, Abs & Lower Back

Blogging for me used to be all about physical fitness and weight loss.  It was a way to bond with other girls my age over our eating disorders and to help us keep track of our numbers.  Although this probably sounds terrible now, at the time it really meant so much to me.  I felt like I was a part of something bigger than myself.  It meant I wasn’t alone.  And although I am lightyears away from those days one thing will never change, it will always feel good to be a part of something.  I never knew until recently that the gym could be that for me now.  I have been running since I was fifteen years old and for years I went 4-5 times every week, miles and miles at a clip.  With my dogs, with my kids in strollers and always outside down sidewalks or trails.  I love the fresh air in my lungs, the warm sun on my face.  It’s a part of me that I never wanted to give up.  But, in the past two years since my son was born I lost site of that and stopped running.  And oddly enough it never really clicked how bad my depression was without it. Over the winter my husband joined a gym.  He got dragged into it by a co-worker who kept begging the guys in his store to join because he didn’t want to go alone.  They went together once.  Then my husband begged me to join so he wouldn’t have to go alone.  Do you see a trend here?  So we went together faithfully twice a week for a few months until the deep winter took us all down.  Colds after bronchitis after strep throat and pink eye.  It seemed like the sickness would never end.  But do you know what did end?  Our commitment to the gym.  It went down in a fiery abyss.  By the time we finally got our butts back in gear to go, my brother in law who had been staying with us while he house hunted, found a house and moved out.  No more morning babysitter.  No more gym. More time went on and our memberships sat untouched.  What a waste of money!!!!!  Ugh and to think you have to cut your own arm off to get out of these things.  I was still my skinny little 123 pound self stuck on the magic of the most consistent lowest weight I have ever held possibly my entire life.  An entire year of feeling blissfully thin with seemingly no end in sight.  That was until about a month ago when out of nowhere some period bloat turned into weeks of turmoil and scale avoidance which inevitably ended my amazingly long streak of “luck”.  I call it luck because I wasn’t exercising to hold that weight.  I was drinking all the time.  I wasn’t eating my healthiest.  I wasn’t practicing yoga or meditation, I wasn’t lifting weights.  I had a …READ MORE

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Recipes Weight Loss/ Healthy Living

3 Ingredient: Strawberry Banana Smoothie

Print 3 Ingredient: Strawberry Banana Smoothie Ingredients With just 3 simple ingredients you can whip up this perfectly refreshing and beautifully vibrant smoothie in minutes, making it the perfect partner to your daily breakfast! Boasting naturally sweet, freshly frozen strawberries and banana this simple drink combination is a fan favorite even the pickiest of little eaters will love! I promise this will soon become the new favorite frozen treat of the summer!! Shhh they don’t have to know its healthy! 😉 1 cup frozen strawberries 1 small banana 5.5 oz coconut water (I pour this into the blender up the the 1st line, its about 1/2 a container of Viva Coco Coconut Water) Directions: Blend until smooth! Enjoy! Instructions Recipe Management Powered by Zip Recipes Plugin 4.29 http://littlebluehazel.com/2018/05/3-ingredient-strawberry-banana-smoothie/ Little Blue Hazel 2016

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Dear Diary

Enough.

Every single day for most of my life I have told myself that I wasn’t enough.  Not smart enough or pretty enough or good enough to be worthy of other people’s time.  My presence doesn’t matter because I don’t matter and the world just keeps spinning just fine with or without me.  Ive questioned my life in very dark ways, wondering at times why I keep going.  Then I see the faces of my children and I hold on for them, because I know that how I feel in these moments is nothing compared to a lifetime for them without me.  Their mom. My relationship with my own mother is strained.  I haven’t felt truly loved or wanted by her since I was a child.  And even then, my fondest memories of her are not the type of warmth I wish for my own children.  She was not the cuddly affectionate type, at least not with me.  I remember her always rubbing my dads back as they sat together on the couch, even my brother, but not me.  When I would get sick and couldn’t sleep, she would come lay in my bed next to me until I drifted off, that may be the only real comfort that sticks out in my mind. She was always very organized and “teacherly” she has a degree in early childhood education so I guess she just decided to live it through us instead of actually becoming a teacher.  She liked to set up craft projects and things like that.  We always went on vacations, she was great about packing all the right stuff, snacks, food.  It was as if she could never forget things, she was just an absolute pro at that kind of stuff.  Which is something I look up to and have always aspired to be. I believe that my mom had a nervous breakdown in the years that led up to my parents divorce.  She let it completely destroy her and our relationship.  I lost respect for her really young.  Once I started driving and bought my first car, I was pretty much out of the house for good.  I spent the back end of high school making all my own decisions.  I grew up way too fast and when my power group of friends fell apart I was never able to pick up the emotional pieces to move on and replace them.  Instead, I hurried into adulthood friendless and almost alone. My grandparents and my husband have pretty much been the only constants in my adult life.  There have been huge chunks of time where I didn’t speak to either one of my parents or my brother.  My grandma means more to me than any woman on earth.  She is my rock.  Which is why even though I wanted to stay home yesterday and hang around my yard, I agreed to go to her house for Mother’s Day dinner.  But then everything went to shit. I only recently learned …READ MORE

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Dear Diary

Headaches.

I had everything packed last night for another day of gym, work, babysitting and then all of a sudden I started feeling sick again.  The unexplained swollen gland I’ve had since last summer started hurting along with my head, ear and then the nausea started.  I was sure that I was going to throw up.  I raced up the stairs to bed and started talking deep breaths.  I was like five hundred steps short of 20K steps and I couldn’t get back up.  I went to sleep completely drained of exhaustion feeling like shit. My alarm went off at 5:35 and I was just all ugh.  I convinced myself that I needed the extra sleep and skipped the gym.  A little over an hour later I got myself up and showered to I could go to my clients house.  From there I just dragged ass all day.  For them I put on a happy face but inside I felt defeated.  I am only two weeks in to my new gym schedule, I can’t start skipping days now and think it is ok.  I decided that I will run the neighborhood tomorrow morning before my shift because our gym doesn’t open until 7 on Saturdays. Now the forecast is showing rain starting at 5.  More defeat.  I took an hour catnap before the little girl I babysit for came, woke up with a headache, ate a few tortilla chips and a salad.  Then I decided I should sit down and write before the day passes me by again but I have nothing prepared so here I am journaling.  I am going to be so upset if my run gets washed out tomorrow.  I am considering just going to the gym after my shift but I made plans with the kids to bring them to a festival tomorrow afternoon.  A festival that is probably going to be rained out anyway. I hate being stuck in situations like this, it’s like I am damned either way.

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Dear Diary Weight Loss/ Healthy Living

Gym, Sex + Vodka.

I never made it to the computer yesterday because this week is turning out not at all how I had planned.  The girl who works in the morning for my client is sick so I picked up three of her shifts.  The extra cash in my paycheck will be great next week but to be brutally honest, I was hungover yesterday so when I got home I took a nap instead of writing.  My husband and I usually have drinks on Tuesdays and Saturday nights.  His best friend has “the guys” over every Tuesday so he goes every other week and on the off week we have “date night” at home.  We just set aside the time after the kids are in bed to watch a movie, play cards, whatever and then we usually always end at least one if not both nights with some pretty mind blowing sex.  This past year has resulted in some pretty intense sexual enlightenment for us… and there is no turning back.  I need it and I want it bad… all the time. This wasn’t our date week but for some reason we didn’t have sex at all last week, not once.  Actually it was my fault, I am getting used to waking up at the crack of dawn to go to the gym.  At the same time, I don’t want to “schedule” our sex life.  Even though as it sits now we are pretty much on a schedule already, I don’t want an official one.  Before I started back at the gym if I had a bad day or he did maybe we would switch things up, drink on an off night, let out some steam under the sheets or both.  But now I can’t do that.  It has been over two years since I was required to be anywhere in the morning at a certain time so theres a bit of an adjustment period.  I don’t think he really understood that at first but we talked about it… twice.  And now I think he gets it. How have a managed to write about sex yet make this so super boring?!  Ugh.  I feel like I am just rambling here.  I need to focus my thoughts, if I have time later I will come back to this or touch upon something else.  My husband just called me about something that has my mind racing now so I need to go reflect for a few.  Plus, the girls are finally coming back today (I babysit twice a week) after weeks of sickness being passed back and forth so I need to go wash my floors before the little one gets here.  Until next time… All my love, Danielle

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The Roots

Math Class.

The most defining group of friends I have ever found came about in a sixth grade math class.  I know, so Breakfast Club-esque right?  It was there that I met the core group of kids that most greatly effected my youth….  A spunky short little squirt named Marisa.  My serious, sometimes almost clinically insane new best friend, Beth.  The free spirited, happy go lucky girl next door, and my other “bff for life” Ally.  A curly haired, emotionally driven singer, Marcus.  A hyperactive sporty goofball, Ray.  The sweet and innocent pretty girl daydreaming about being promiscuous, Ashley. The bad-boy ladies man, Nick. And of course, a cute skater boy with the best smile and the shiniest black hair always hidden underneath his red hat, Mark.  Little did I know back then but, the relationships that I formed with these kids at eleven years old would literally shape the rest of my life. The teacher’s name was Mr. Hayward and his class was full of all the most popular kids that I remember from middle school.  I just happened to be one of the “lucky” ones getting to sit in on all the action.  There was always chaos ensuing in his class, people throwing spit balls behind his back, everyone passing notes.  As fate would have it, I sat surrounded by eight individuals who would soon become my closest friends.  It started off innocent, talking behind the teachers back and making jokes.  Then we started meeting in the halls, walking to classes.  We exchanged phone numbers and started sneaking calls at all hours of the night.  We were all so different yet we felt this force drawing us in by something that felt more important than the type of clothes we wore or the hobbies we were into.  Drama.  Each one of us had a home life full of it and that was infinitely more important than anything else going on at school. We spent a ton of time talking, whining and even crying to each other about our problems.  No stone was ever left unturned.  It was like we were in competition to determine whose parents were the most fucked up.  There were catastrophic events happening to at least one of us almost every day and we truly believed the therapy we received by talking to one another was much more effective than any educated adult could possible give us.  We even marched into the guidance counselors office one day and literally commandeered a room.  I remember having this checklist that we were going over, it had all our problems listed in bullet form.  Not even kidding, you can’t make this shit up.  I know it really does sound insane but it’s the truth, we were gosh, its like we were the original Emo kids before that even was a thing.  And these kids, they really got me.  They were all so raw and real about everything they were going through.  They felt things the same way that I felt …READ MORE

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Weight Loss/ Healthy Living

Tipping the Scale.

I had to cover a shift on Friday morning during my designated writing time.  I am pretty much a sham but I babysit a few hours every week and I also work as a home companion for an elderly couple.  I mostly just hang out with them and wash their dishes.  It’s a pretty sweet gig.  My friend who works their morning shift asked me to cover and I’m always down to make money.  At first when I agreed to it I immediately wrote off the gym but my husband was all like, don’t be a bum, what’s a half hour in the grand scheme of things?  SO.. I was like, challenge accepted..  And, I woke up even earlier to still make it to the gym before work, I even showered for the first time ever there which I thought I was going to hate but actually, it wasn’t that bad. I thought I could come home after work and write a little later than usual but the day got away from me and by the time I realized I forgot about writing I didn’t have an hour to devote to it anymore and just moved on.  It was Cinco De Mayo and I had this elaborate meal planned which turned out to be a big waste of time.  My husband has turned into my clients yard guy and, their husband ended up calling and asked if he could come clean out their gutters which turned into a 2.5 hour job, after he had already worked all day.  I missed out on playing with the kids in the kiddie pool because I was cooking.  And, we missed out on being together as a family enjoying the meal because the job took too long.  By the time he got back, I was putting the kids in bed and we ate without them.  Such is life right? I feel bad about not writing though, which again is a great sign that changes are actually taking place in my life right now even if I don’t see them yet.  So here we are, another Monday and I should be digging into my roots but I feel off today and just wanted to talk about life right now instead.  I woke up in this bad mood today.  I usually dream every night but last night, I didn’t.  Plus, I turned Mark down for sex so I could go to sleep on time.  I thought it was going to make me feel empowered and strong like nothing could stand in my way of starting this second week back at the gym.  But instead, it made me feel lonely and sad that I had missed out on being with him. I looked at him fast asleep next to me and all I wanted was to feel his warm body against mine, his big strong arms wrapping around me squeezing me tight.  I stayed there a few extra minutes, contemplating my next move.  I really wanted to …READ MORE

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The Roots

The Affair.

When I walked into the house that day something was different.  My parents were arguing, my mom was crying.  It wasn’t your typical you didn’t take the trash out kind of argument, it felt much bigger than that.  I hid in my room away from the yelling, the only place that felt safe.  I had begged my parents for my own line that Christmas, I had hit that phase of talking on the phone to my friends all night.  I went into my closet, it was calm and dark.  I called my friend so I didn’t have to feel alone.  My mom was saying things like “DID YOU FUCK HERE IN THIS HOUSE?  IN OUR BED?  DID YOU BRING HER HERE?”  Doors were slamming.  More screaming and crying.  I started crying.  I was so scared.  My little brother snuck into my room, I called him into the closet.  It wasn’t the first time I had hid in there.  I kept a secret stash of snacks and toys for times like this.  I was the kind of kid who found peace in the quiet, I loved hiding away somewhere and reading a book.  I had even turned our linen closet into my own little reading spot but, there was no way I could get there now, this would have to do.  So there we sat, clutching each other in fear, sobbing together.  I told him everything would be all right, even though I didn’t believe it myself.  I just always needed to be the one to keep him safe, I was the big sister, that was my job. The weeks that followed were much like that moment.  My mom walked around in a daze.  It felt like she was always on the phone trying desperately to decipher what she should do next with her life.  Trying to cope, trying to find guidance from this person and that person.  Grieving. It was as if my father had died and in a sense, he had.  Everything that my mom knew and loved about her life was suddenly gone.  So selfishly just ripped from under her.  It was more than a death, it was suicide.  My dad had committed suicide to their marriage.  And my mom didn’t know what to do with herself.  She kept saying “twenty four years, how can I just give up on us after twenty four years?”.  She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep.  I would lie in bed every night listening to her sob uncontrollably for hours in the next room.  But, I never went in to console her.  Our relationship just wasn’t like that.  I didn’t feel any sort of closeness to her in those moments, I only felt alone.  I only saw my struggle, not hers.  Not Genes.  Not my dads.  Just mine. I tried to care for my brother.  I learned to use the stove and cooked what I could when my mom couldn’t.  I tried to feed her.  I tried to be a good daughter, a good …READ MORE

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Dear Diary

Wednesdays.

So I’m working on this new schedule of gym Monday, Tues, Thur, Fri.  Date night/ kids night alternating Tuesdays/ Wednesday “rest” day.  Writing Mon-Fri.  I have been off to what feels like a great start digging into my roots and finally finding the strength to write the stories of my life that really matter to me.  But now that Wednesday has rolled around this first week I have realized there may not be time to sit down and give that good hour or so I need to write one of those posts today.  Although, a change is definitely coming over me because instead of just saying eh whatever I can’t write today I actually felt really guilty for not sitting down.  I think what could work on Wednesdays instead for now would be a dear diary or even a recipe maybe.  I am not completely opposed to fun things for this blog I just feel like I have this huge weight sitting on my shoulders that I need to get off before I can truly enjoy those types of things.  I don’t have anything prepared for today so I am just swinging from the hip, telling y’all what I have planned for the future.  Tomorrow is back to the gym and back to the story.  I am debating which direction to go, I think I know but I need to sleep on it.  So for now I leave you with a smile because it’s 80 freakin degrees today and there is just nothing better than a beautiful “summer” day! All my love, Danielle

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The Roots

My Michelle (Part 1)

A girl, my age.   Sitting at the window practicing piano against her will.  A requirement her parents made which she had very little interest in.  I could hear the music playing across our lawn.  I could see her little face looking out at me and I was paralyzed with shock, could it really be that I had moved so far away yet found a new friend right here?  I couldn’t believe my eyes.  There was so much possibility in this moment just rushing inside of me, so much excitement and fear all at the same time.  She finished up her lesson and made her way out to meet me.  She was taller than me, skinnier and had a head full of thick dirty blonde hair.  It felt like pure magic just being in her presence from the very first moment our eyes met.  Her name was Michelle, the same as my mom.  She was one year younger than me and loved nature, something I didn’t know much about.  For the first time in my little life I had a friend who I really connected with.  Sure I had a lot of friends in the city and was lucky enough to grow up with a different little girl next door back then but this was an entirely different ball game. My first best friend Sabina, I met when I was just five years old.  Standing on a large rock overlooking her house.  She came out and introduced herself, we were glued from there.  Her family was Muslim and as much as I fully respect their culture, they were very traditional in their ways which made being friends a little hard.  She wasn’t allowed to do things that other kids were allowed to do like, singing along to the radio for example or wear a bathing suit.  Plus, we were very young so timing had a lot to do with it too.  We never had sleepovers, a lot of her family couldn’t speak English, they also owned a duplex yet it was filled with about twenty other family members, those sort of things.  Thanks to Facebook though we did stay in touch, I actually went to her wedding shower and was invited to her wedding but opted not to attend.  It had just been so many years.  Although her family was incredibly inviting to me and my family I just felt out of place after so much time had past and we hadn’t really been able to stay in touch. With Michelle things were different from the start.  I was older yet I looked up to her with this immense respect, sometimes almost idolizing the way she was.  How thin she was, how smart and confident she was.  She always seemed to know exactly what she wanted, exactly what to do.  She showed me all the things that I had missed out on living in the city.  Like catching frogs and hosting worm weddings in the open field behind our houses. …READ MORE

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