college

Exercising My Mind & Body

Posted on March 10, 2015 Written by Tonya

I love to exercise.

No, really.

I am not a fitness guru nor do I wear a size 2, but I’m strong and determined and love to move.

I entered a gym for the first time as a Freshman in college on the University of Arizona campus and have been intrigued by how the body and muscles works and how certain foods and my diet make me feel.

I love the physiology of exercise and how moving our bodies increase endorphins, adrenaline, dopamine and serotonin. Just a few of the cocktail of chemicals and hormones that are released in the body beautifully and naturally every time you exercise. There have been many times in my life when I have come to rely on exercise, instead of say, antidepressants or copious amounts of liquor. There is a strong link between exercise and happiness.

These days I spend more time walking or running along the beautiful Southern California coast, throughout my neighborhood or at a nearby nature center than I do in a gym. I almost always have a sleeping sidekick in a stroller. I’m careful to plan my walks around Lola’s nap time and “we” log anywhere between 12-15 miles per week. I will chat with Lola, call a friend, listen to This American Life or music or sometimes let the sound of my own breath center me. I let my mind wander and find an inner peace.

If I don’t get an hour or more of exercise time every day, I go nuts. Or I make the people around me nuts. It doesn’t always happen and I try not to beat myself up about it if it doesn’t.

One of the very best gifts I have ever received was a treadmill and I’ve been known to hop on it well after dark.

I exercise so that I can eat.

Like, really eat.

I exercise to think.

I exercise to challenge myself and push my limits. If I’m not walking, I’m struggling at the ballet barre, a class I am bound and determined to conquer or doing yoga.

I love knowing I’m just half an hour away from a better mood.

Exercise is empowering It’s my “me time”, although I am seldom alone having pushed both Lucas and Lola for miles and miles or being pulled my Charlie Pasta, it is my time to pause and force everything else going on in my life aside and do something just for me.

Do you like to move? What is your exercise of choice?

The Freshman

Posted on February 13, 2013 Written by Tonya

Leigh Ann of Genie In A Blog is my guest today with a letter I SO wish I had received upon entering college, when all I had to worry about was scheduling my classes so I wouldn’t miss All My Children.

Oh, those were the days….

And if I think I have my hands full now, Leigh Ann has four year old twins and their little sister to keep her on her toes and still somehow manages to be a big supporter of Letters For Lucas and many other bloggers. Please welcome Leigh Ann!

Dear young, naïve, freshman in college Leigh Ann,

I know what you’re thinking: letters to our younger selves are like totally overdone, right? For sure. But listen up anyway.

You’re leaving home to start a new adventure at one of the largest universities in the country. It sounds daunting to some, but you’re looking forward to the prospect having classes so large that you’ll never be singled out to participate much. Of course you’ll study and do well, but speaking up? Not really your thing. But don’t get swallowed up in the vastness. There is so much you need to discover not just in this amazing city, but in yourself. And as your [slightly] wiser, older self, there are a few things that I want to tell you before you start the roller coaster ride.

Be adventurous. You have some old friends to hold your hand through the newness, but don’t grasp onto them too tightly. Go out and experience any and every new thing and activity that catches your interest. Take at least one taste of everything that looks good on the buffet. It’s the only way you’ll find out what you truly love. And you know I’m talking about the proverbial buffet, not the actual one, right? Because hellooooo freshman fifteen.

Talk to people. I know. You’re shy. You’re an introvert. You usually make an ass out of yourself when you open your mouth. It’s bound to happen. But the only way you’re going to fix that is by socializing. A drink or two definitely helps. Which brings me to my next point.

Don’t be the drunk girl at the party. After being a staunch rule follower in high school, there’s no one telling you what to do or when to be home. Losing control will be easier than you think. Just remember that there is no prize for the most blitzed girl at the party, and even if there was, well…let’s just say that she’d be too drunk to notice anyway.

Be careful. I know you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. Don’t put yourself in a situation that you may not be able to get out of. When you’ve had a few drinks and your friend Mike offers you a piggy back ride? Don’t do it. ER staff has very little sympathy for inebriated college kids who split their heads open doing dumbass stunts.

Relish in your free time. You won’t see much of it when you start working your sophomore year. Sit in your friend’s dorm room one night and laugh your ass off making prank calls to other students instead of studying. You won’t remember whether you aced or bombed the test, but that night will always be one of your most cherished memories.

Love yourself. That guy you’re dating? I think he really does like you, but he’s not interested in a serious relationship. The two of you are in very different stages of life right now. He’s not treating you very well, and you need to know that you deserve better. You deserve to have fun and not worry about whether he’ll call. Because someday he won’t, and that’s okay. This is also a good time to review the above point about not being the drunkest girl at the party and what not. It’s not a good look for you, and it won’t ease your aching heart.

And when he starts calling you again the next year, run the other direction. He’s not worth it.

Be a good friend. So be there for them too. Listen. Swallow your pride when you don’t want to admit you’re wrong. Give your friendship to them without wondering what’s in it for you. Work to solidify these new friendships, but don’t forget to nurture those you have cherished for years. Because if you don’t, all of your new experiences and friendships will quickly squash out the ones you who have been there all along.

And it wouldn’t kill you to be the designated driver once in a while.

Be confident. I know this is a hard one for you. You’re a small fish in a very large pond, and it’ll shake your confidence in your abilities. You’ll feel out of place in your Gap jeans and cute tee, walking into a studio full of kids who look like they all got off the bus from Hipsters R Us. Make friends with these people. You’ll be sharing the same building and studio spaces for the next four years. Their piercings, tattoos, and Doc Martens don’t make them better artists. You’re talented. Chances are they’re as insecure as you are. Work hard, and your work will speak for itself. Also, maybe try and branch out style wise, mkay? Go ahead and get that cartilage pierced, you rebel. Your mom will totally hate it.

Grow. Take each experience, positive or negative, and learn from it. Hold those lessons close to your heart, because they will shape who you will be in the next 1, 5, 10, or maybe even – gulp – 16 years. I know you have no idea who you are right now, but don’t be so timid that you are afraid find out.

You will hurt.

You will laugh.

You will cry.

You will be fine. You will be better than fine.

Because I know you now. You’ve grown a lot, learned a lot, and changed a lot. And I think you’re pretty awesome.

Oh, and stay away from the late night cafeteria hours. You know, where they serve the breaded and fried chicken Wow Rings? Just trust me on this one. Your thighs will thank you.

Signing off,
Your 34 year old self

I have no idea who this guy is. Nothing says college like taking pictures with random people at parties.

Follow Leigh Ann on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest.

On The Move

Posted on February 24, 2012 Written by Tonya

This August we will have known each other for 21 years.

That’s a long time to be friends with someone.

But even the best of friendships wane and things go left unsaid and feelings are hurt, opinions are expressed and lines all crossed. We suffer and vent in silence and before we know it, it’s been six years since you spoke to one another.

Today I am over Courtney’s Feature Friday writing about the loss of a dear friend. Please come visit me there….

Blah, Blah, Blah

Posted on January 17, 2012 Written by Tonya

Everyone knows Liz, she is the wonderful voice behind a belle, a bean & a chicago dog and co-founder of Eli | Rose Social Media, LLC, the most helpful social media Web site around!

I am very proud to have Liz as my guest today with a letter that I hope she will STRONGLY consider hand delivering the next time she encounters this out-of-touch, insecure, boastful mom.

Dear Mom at Gymnastics,

Sitting up in the viewing area, I hear moms make what I’d consider to be unnecessary comments about their kids from time to time. You can tell when some moms worry that others are seeing their child perform not at their best during gymnastics class. Not that I condone that behavior, but it’s something I can tolerate.

You and your over-the-top bragging, on the other hand, are completely intolerable. I feel sorry for the woman you vaguely recognized and then lassoed into a 15 minute show-off session about how amazing and out-of-this world spectacular your 7th grader is. I also feel sorry for your younger daughter who was trying out that gymnastics class; you made it very, very clear that she is your “difficult” child because her grades and lesser number of extracurricular activities aren’t as impressive as your 7th grader’s.

It’s such a shame when one of our children doesn’t make us feel like an incredible mom when we talk about them, isn’t it?

Now for your 7th grader? I don’t care that she’s (supposedly) never made even 1 B in her whole entire life. I don’t care that you want to send her to the most – in your eyes – prestigious private high school because “each student has their own counselor and by the time they graduate, they have a whole portfolio to show off to prospective colleges.” Oh, and thanks for mentioning that “everyone who goes to St. Agnes goes onto college because you wouldn’t go to a school like that if you weren’t.”

Competitive cheerleading? — Blah.

A role in a play? — So what?

You having her sit for the SAT even though she’s only in 7th grade “because colleges will start to track her now”? — You.make.me.sick.

You and your stuck-up 7th grader can gloat all you want because I’m putting my money on your “difficult” child being the happiest, most secure and most normal one in the bunch.

Chew on that for a bit, won’t you?

Signed,

The Average Mom who Feels Sorry for your Extreme Insecurity

Plastic

Posted on November 9, 2011 Written by Tonya

I applied for and received my first credit card in 1994. I was 22 and a Junior in college. I was given a $400 credit limit to shop to my heart’s content at Victoria’s Secret [insert eye roll here] and I thought I was hot shit!

I didn’t know a thing about credit.

All I knew was I loved the idea of buying now and somehow paying later. I had a part-time job at Pier One Imports. I figured I would figure it out.

Of course, one credit card led to another and then another…

Once you were “in” with the Express/Limited family, all sorts of retailers welcomed you with credit lines. Department store credit cards soon followed and at one point, I had them all; Macy’s, Bloomingdale’s, Nordstrom’s, Neiman Marcus, etc. Many stores I didn’t even shop at.

Soon I had a wallet full of shiny plastic cards.

I am ashamed to admit that after opening one of the statements (also known as a BILL, I came to find out), my curious father paid off my plastic addiction. Well, first he had a fit and screamed and yelled and then he paid my off all of credit cards.

All the cards were promptly cut up in a ceremony sitting around our kitchen table. There was more yelling, many tears and relief.

None of the balances ever amounted to much, $80 here, $115 there, but my little part-time job wasn’t cutting it and it was time for me to face reality. In total, my parents paid off almost $1500. I was ashamed and vowed I would never let that happen again.

After that, I got smart (or so I thought) and used only one very special Visa card, which I proceeded to rack up a balance WAY more than $1500. I was not going to let my parents bail me out this time.

Although, they did but I don’t think they ever knew it.

When I graduated from college, my parents gave me enough money to live on for one year as a graduation gift. This included rent, utilities and car maintenance (gas and insurance). The check was written to me and I promptly turned around and paid Visa off in full! I was out of debt and also jobless.

Needless to say, I took the first $23,000/year position offered to me and never looked back.

I’ve always struggled with credit cards but I’ve never let myself get into debt again like those early years. I worked hard to stick to a budget and live with in my means but that always meant paycheck to paycheck for me.

Long story short, I’ve never been good with money, I suck at math and while I’m not a big shopper, I’m also not a big saver.

My husband and I sit down several times a year and review our spending, where we’re at financially and what our goals are. I am BEYOND grateful, completely relieved and much happier that he handles all of the bills and budget and anything and everything else pertaining to money in our home.

It’s just better this way.

This post was written for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop, Prompt 2.) One good reason why you are not in charge of your family’s finances.

Dear Sherri

Posted on October 25, 2011 Written by Tonya

It’s no secret that I adore Sherri and her blog, Old Tweener.

Sherri is the mother I hope to be someday and she writes the way I hope to write someday. Her words are moving and eloquent, pull at my heart strings and make me appreciate every moment I have right now with Lucas. She reminds me that childhood is fleeting and children grow up way too fast.

I am thankful that I can call Sherri a friend and I am so pleased to have her here today with a beautiful letter to herself on the day she became a mother.

May 28, 1994

Dear Sherri,

Today was an amazing day in your life: the day you became a mother for the first time. We haven’t met yet, but we have a lot to talk about.

You see, I am the mother you will be after almost 18 years of parenting.

That baby boy in your arms right now seems so fragile, so helpless, and incredibly needy. Don’t worry; you’ll figure him out pretty quickly. In time, you will get to know him so well that you can almost read his mind.

Until he’s a teenager, anyway.

Once he starts talking, he will rarely stop. In fact, many of your days with him will seem like one very long question. But please listen to him, answer his questions as best you can, and really try to soak up these moments when he’s so chatty and inquisitive.

Even when you want to stock up on earplugs and convince him that the dog is smart enough to answer his science questions.

Because when he moves on to college one day his words will be few. A funny text every few days, maybe a phone call on Sundays; his voice deep and full of joy.

And you will be glad you listened when you did.

Kiss him and hug him; tickle his little feet and hold his chubby little hands. Blow some raspberries on his round little tummy and nibble on his soft baby neck.

Once he’s too old for this you will wish you’d done it more.

When he’s older, hugs will be replaced by high-fives and pats on the back, at least in public.

Those eighteen years will pass in a heartbeat or two.

Today in the hospital, as you hold that sweet little bundle in your arms I realize it’s hard to understand this part. But your job as his mother is to make yourself obsolete. Nurture him, teach him, and love him relentlessly.

But prepare to let him go.

And then do it.

Because when you do send him off to college one day he will be fine on his own. He will be able to solve his own problems; right his wrongs, make decisions, and find his own way.

And he’ll be so ready for it.

You will be fine, too…trust me, I know this for a fact now.

So get back to learning how to be a mother, how to read his cries, and what he needs from you. Be patient because it’s going to take some time.

But it’s going to seem like it took no time at all.

Love,

Sherri

Back To 1991

Posted on September 12, 2011 Written by Tonya

I was assigned my first e-mail address as a Freshman at the University of Arizona. It was 1991.

Professors were suppose to connect with their students regarding classes and assignments via electronic mail, but no one had a computer in those days. Students and faculty alike were meant to use the computer lab in a building several blocks from my dorm.

I can count on one hand how many times in my four years I attended college that I visited the computer lab.

All of my college papers were written on a Brother ML-500 Electronic Word Processing Typewriter. I thought I was so state of the art with my dozens of floppy disks.

My first encounter with the Internet was also in college, circa 1995. My boyfriend at the time had a desk top computer (talk about state of the art), a giant piece of machinery that took up the entire surface of his kitchen table. He even had a printer. He used an online communications system called Prodigy.

He boasted how he could “look up” anything and information would be provided right there on the screen in front of us. Sure enough, as soon as I blurted out “Madonna”, he printed out a one page biography of the controversy-making pop queen. I was astounded.

Fast forward to 2011 and you will find “248,000,000 results on ‘Madonna’ in 0.16 seconds.” on Google.

To say that times have changed is a gross understatement.

By 1996, I was on a computer every day at work, but had yet to experience the world wide web. I did have an AOL account and would go home on my lunch break to IM friends. It was amazing, just like having a phone conversation, but better and way more fun.

Five years later, my parents bought me my first lap top on which I spent hours on e-mail and on-line shopping. My favorite shopping cart at the time was at Amazon.com. Since 2001, I have made over 100 purchases on Amazon.com (of course they keep track).

Sharing this new technology with my father was for lack of a better word, sweet and amusing. He never quite accepted the concept that what you found on the Internet would remain there for you to recall another time and so he would print out everything. Having hard copies made him comfortable not to mention killed a lot of trees.

What I have found in my 15 years of Internet experience is that as long as you own a computer (or an iPhone) and have Internet access, virtually (pun intended) anything is possible.

The Internet is the best and arguably the evilest invention ever. Everything is available right at our finger tips.

Today we get our world news, entertainment and weather on line. We Tweet, Pin and Stumble. We order groceries, diapers and the latest fashions, we research, find support, self-diagnose, fall in love, plan a wedding, prepare for a baby, book an exotic vacation and connect with our entire high school graduating class, even if we never said a word to them in person. We play Scrabble with our neighbors and laugh out loud to videos of giggling babies, we download, upload, bookmark, backup and can hide away from the world if we choose.

It’s sad when you stop and think about it. With the Internet, the need for real human interaction is almost unnecessary.

Knowing what I know now, I wonder if I could go back to 1991. Could you?

This post is for Write On Edge’s weekly writing assignment RemembRED. This week’s prompt: recall those early memories of being online.

I Don’t Do Math

Posted on July 29, 2010 Written by Tonya

I know it embarrasses my husband when I pull out my tip calculator, but I suck at math!

In high school I excelled in English, history, art, music, PE and foreign language classes, but I was terrible at math and science.

In all honesty, if it weren’t for the homework and all the extra credit problems and reports I completed, I don’t think I would have even earned a diploma. I am not proud of this, I am just stating facts. I am proud to be very right brained.

Sitting in my seventh grade Algebra class, I would get dizzy staring at all the numbers on the chalkboard and when it came to formulas and word problems… forget it!

Tutors didn’t help. The summer courses I took didn’t help and neither did the knock down drag out fights I would have with my parents. They couldn’t understand why I was getting A’s and B’s in the courses I actually enjoyed and practically failing the ones I didn’t. It seemed pretty logical to me, but they were educators and thought my grades should be more “consistent”. I consistently argued that I’d never need math in my life.

By the time I got to college, I took the minimum required math courses that I needed in order to graduate and that was that. I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t go for a marketing degree because I couldn’t handle all the math prerequisites and instead opted for a Bachelor of Arts in communications with an emphasis in public relations. I can still put together a marketing budget and successfully stick to it.

I like to think that I have a logical mind that is very black and white because I appreciate that in mathematics, there can only be one solution to a problem. I mean 2 + 2 can’t equal 5, right? But numbers have always boggled my mind. I just don’t have a head for them and I never have. I know just enough to get by and for everything else, there’s a calculator.

I understand the value of math and why it is important to learn basic formulas, fractions and percentages, but I’m already starting to worry about helping Lucas with his math homework. Beyond middle school, we are definitely going to have problems (no pun intended). Thank goodness his dad is a very proud left brainer and will assist in this arena.

Numbers or not, the best is yet to be.

My ipod Has Schizophrenia

Posted on October 14, 2009 Written by Tonya

I believe that everything is better with music and I love all different types; from bubble gum pop and jazz to Jay-Z and Radiohead (okay, Radiohead is one of your dad’s favorite bands, not mine, but I do have a two of their songs on my iPod).

Music is an incredibly powerful thing; it has the ability to uplift and motivate like nothing else. Just the right tune can put a smile on my face, a spring in my step, a wish in my heart or tear in my eye. It can make a long boring car ride more bearable and household chores dare I say, more fun to power through. It gives me that little extra something to go another few minutes on the treadmill.

I play music for you everyday. I have 15 days or 5316 songs on my iPod, so there is A LOT to choose from. My Essential playlist (otherwise known as the playlist of music I would have to have were I ever to find myself stranded on a deserted island and could only take one playlist), which you have probably listened to the most, includes 100 of my all time favorite songs. It is as eclectic as the rest of my music library. The first 10 songs are:

1. Ghost In You – The Psychedelic Furs
2. Rump Shaker – Wreckx-N-Effect
3. Melissa – The Allman Brothers Band
4. Anna Begins – Counting Crows
5. Love – Matt White
6. Peek-A-Boo – Sioxsie and the Banshees
7. Theme from “A Summer Place” – The Lettermen
8. Hallelujah – k.d. lang
9. Pig – Dave Matthews Band
10. Crazy – Patsy Cline

Each song is gorgeous, haunting and fun in their own special way. I think you can figure out which is which.

Music to me is like the sense of smell for others. It helps trigger a memory and hearing a certain song can bring me right back to that moment in time. For example, “Drive” by The Cars was my first slow dance, “Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star was the song playing on the radio when I got into my first(!) car accident, “Just Like Heaven” by The Cure will always remind me of dancing the night away in Newport Beach with my college roommate and our boyfriends, “You are the Sunshine of My Life” by Stevie Wonder is the song my sister sang at my wedding and “Addicted to Love” by Robert Palmer will always make me think of my dad. Actually, a lot of songs remind me of my dad, but that one in particular. He couldn’t get enough of the video featuring the scantily clad long legged chicks.

I am not a very good dancer, but I can carry a tune and you sure seem to like it when I start to move and groove and belt out with the chorus. I hope I am instilling in you an appreciation for music, if not a move or two you may bust out later in life.

The best is yet to be.

Exercising My Mind & Body

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