Posts Filed Under My Better Half

Way back when, at the beginning of January, my husband had a bright idea for us to complete a 60-day fitness challenge. I drank some of his homemade wine and then agreed.

For 60-days straight, we would work-out every. Single. Day. Then go down to 5 days a week for a while, then 4 days a week for the rest of our lives. Oh, sorry. The. Rest. Of. Our. Lives.

It hasn’t been easy, but we’ve done it. Well, he’s done it and I’ve mostly done it. I missed 2 out of the 4 days when I was in Houston and then I missed another day after I weighed myself, punched the wall and screamed, “What’s the point?”

There have been a couple of times when my work-out consisted of a few sets of lunges and some push-ups and a couple of times when I battled the 14 year old in Just Dance in order to break a sweat, but for the most part…at least 50 of the last 60 days, have been intense; with a lot of strength-training, rowing, boxing, running, swimming, ellipticizing, biking, stepping, and generally wanting to punch my trainer in the face.

Oh, and a boatload of laundry. It’s all “Sweatin’ Because We’re Oldies” up in here.

Have I lost weight? Not much. I try not to weigh myself, because it just makes me angry. I see minor changes, though and I KNOW I’m doing the right thing. And since exercise is a whole lot mental, knowing is at least half the battle.

And, speaking of the correlation between mind and body, I have almost completely weaned myself off my Zoloft during this challenge. That’s a big deal. I’m figuring out how to reduce my anxiety without meds and have only thought I was going to die once. Just once!

I have learned that an easy work-out is not enough to keep the anxiety-demons at bay, it has to be a work-out so hard that I feel like I can’t get through it. It has to be intense and painful for my body in order for my mind to be eased. So, I have that going for me. It’s like I’m Atlas and I have the weight of the world on me and then I do some squats and just toss it; much in the same way that I toss around metaphors.

I can run farther (without stopping!) than I have in about 9 years and when I used to run past the fire station I thought that, for sure, I would see a paramedic come running after me with a defibrillator, but now I just cruise right past and the fire fighters stand outside and cheer for me. That last part may have been a dream, but I’m not sure.

I’ve learned a lot about myself in the last 2 months. I now know that it’s possible to live in a perpetual state of pain, that I should never go to the gym without my inhaler, and that I’m pretty damn driven when I actually put my mind to something.

Mostly, I’ve learned that drinking my husband’s homemade wine might cause me to make ridiculous, spur-of-the-moment decisions that actually end up benefiting me.  So bottoms up, people. Bottoms up.

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Thank You, Ben Affleck

posted by Momo Fali on February 25, 2013

At the Academy Awards on Sunday night, Ben Affleck was accepting the Best Picture Oscar for Argo when he looked over to his wife, Jennifer Garner, and said, “I want to thank my wife…I want to thank you for working on marriage for ten Christmases. It’s good, it is work, but it’s the best kind of work, and there’s no one I’d rather work with.”

Ben got a lot of grief for making this statement. I saw it for myself all over the Internet. It was awkward. It wasn’t the right place or time. Their marriage is in trouble! They are getting a divorce!

I, on the other hand, thought it was awesome and want to be among the first to thank him for his remark.

In my opinion it was the perfect venue for him to say such a thing. Hollywood is one big fairy-tale, complete with beautiful people and princess dresses, and millions of people were watching. I commend Ben for taking the opportunity to say that even with loads of money, good looks and an Oscar in his hand, that marriage is work. If it’s a struggle for them, what about those of us with financial problems, average appearance and no awards of which to speak?

If men and women didn’t enter into marriage with a white-picket fantasy and instead looked at it like it’s a job, maybe family dynamics wouldn’t get thrown out of whack because of the way the dishes are loaded in the dishwasher. Have you ever given a co-worker the silent treatment because they didn’t hang up their coat? No. So why would you act like that with your spouse?

Work can be fulfilling. There are a heck of a lot of people who LOVE their jobs, but they don’t just come in and sit at their desk and expect the work to be fulfilling. They put effort into it. They are passionate about it. They give and they get back.

I love my husband and I’m forever committed to our marriage, but it isn’t always easy. We both know it’s work and when everything falls into place as it can with any good project, it’s the most amazing partnership I’ve ever had. I don’t dread this job; I live for it.

It’s good, it is work, but it’s the best kind of work, and there’s no one I’d rather work with.

Thank you, Ben, for keeping it real.

Question of the Day XVI

posted by Momo Fali on February 11, 2013

So, you know how you go downstairs to do laundry because you’re out of underwear, and realize that the trash can full of dryer lint has been knocked down every time you’ve gone to the basement for the last two weeks, and you know the only logical explanation is that there is a critter causing the trouble, or a ghost, and you’re hoping it’s a ghost, and then your husband goes outside and finds a flat tire, and while he’s changing the spare tire, he spills all of his coffee, so he makes more coffee, then he spills that too, so you don’t get any coffee and neither does he, and then you look in the mirror to see the painful spot on your ear where you thought your glasses were rubbing you is actually a big zit, then you get a phone call from your son’s school telling you that he can’t participate in any of the Mardi Gras celebrations because he’s not being responsible, and you’re all, “I KNOW! I don’t know what to do with him! I even write ‘BE RESPONSIBLE’ on his napkin every day!” and you want to cry because you really don’t know what to do with him, and you secretly wish it was wine o’clock, and then your daughter comes home from school with a migraine?

Yeah, me too.

Dance with My Father

posted by Momo Fali on January 29, 2013

Sometimes, when we are just sitting around, my mom will burst into tears and tell me what a good father my kids have. I nod. “I know, Mom. I know.” And, I do.

I think part of the reason she cries is because she had a good relationship with her father and she misses him. He’s been gone since I was a child, but she still talks about him a lot. I think there is also something to be said for the fact that my mom is 78 years old and has known a lot of people who didn’t have close relationships with their dads. My grandparent’s generation wasn’t exactly known for wearing their emotions on their sleeves.

Actually, some members of my generation aren’t known for it either. There is no denying that my husband is a curmudgeon (seriously, he won’t even deny it), but he loves his kids, does all kinds of activities with them that I probably never would, instills in them a sense of responsibility, shares his faith and his dreams with them, and even though he is one of the biggest sports fans I’ve ever known, he doesn’t blink an eye at the fact that our special needs son will never be a star athlete.

Of course, my husband gets all of his parenting skills naturally because he has a great dad. As do I. Our fathers are both funny, kind, generous and loving.

Way back in 1997 I spent an amazing August afternoon dancing with all of these men. I happened to be wearing a wedding dress and at one point or another was twirled around the dance floor by my brand-new husband, my dad, and my father-in-law.

The other night my daughter’s dance club threw an event for the parents. It was held in the same hall where my husband and I had our wedding reception, and when my groom and our daughter took to the dance floor – the same dance floor where I had danced with my dad – I was the one doing the crying.

I have been so lucky to have these dads in my life and I wish the same thing for my girl.

So far, so good.

Speaking of dads, I’ll be on a panel at the Dad 2.0 Summit in Houston this weekend where some of the best parents in social media will be gathering to declare, “Parenting isn’t just for moms, and neither is blogging!” I just made that quote up, but I’m pretty sure they’ll want to to put it on a bumper sticker.