Fight!
(Alyssa’s Song)

Fight, Baby, Fight!
From that 1st night in the Emergency room
Faithless doctor spewing doom and gloom,
Fear loomed for a fraction of a second,
Before faith beaconed.

There was a legit medical reason for him to say,
“The 2nd baby won’t survive,
It won’t be alive long with no fluid in its sac.”
I wanted to smack his smug cheek.
Surely he saw your heart beat,
Even though he said it didn’t matter?
I just smiled inside
I was along for the ride,
And I already knew one day I’d meet you.

We started our dialogue on the ride home
Just me in the car, but never alone.
There were 3 of us already,
I felt you there
Always a part of me,
3 beating hearts in one body
and that’s how it was supposed to be.

Fight, Baby, Fight!
I told the smaller of the two
You’ve just got to fight and be strong
Hold on and before long
this part will be through.
There’s a wonderful life waiting for you, the best.
You’ve just got to make it here
And the rest is on me to make you happy!

We kept up our conversation,
Creeping elation as the weeks went by.
Time surpassed silly predictions of my predicament.
I was not surprised to see you doing so good,
I always knew you would be fine.

And when you were born blue
I knew you would make it, too.
I held your sissy in my arms
Barely alarmed,
And told her to use her Wonder Twins powers
To telepathically tell you to…
Fight!




By Leah Bomar Thompson

5/6/2009

I wrote this poem for Alyssa and both my other babies. Never give up because I will fight forever for you.

More Than a Mother
5/6/09

So little and strong,
I knew all along
You were destined for survival.

Revival of faith,
when fear rivals the fact,
That I believe everything’s gonna be alright.

There maybe no end in sight
But baby we will fight,
for our life and each other.

No other thing in the world
Compares to my girls
When we are all together.

Never alone again,
In me you have a life long friend,
So much more than a mother.



Enjoy a pictorial presentation of me & my girls from the moment I saw their faces until now...

July 2010

Alyssa & Carly 16 months old

4th of July 2010

Alyssa & Carly

May 2010

Alyssa & Carly, KK's Prom Night

April 4th, 2010

Carly & Alyssa Easter Sunday

March 1st, 2010

Alyssa & Carly 11 months old

January 2010

Alyssa & Carly 10 months old

December 25th, 2009

Carly & Alyssa 9 months old

November 7th, 2009

Alyssa & Carly at Bryce's 2nd Birthday Party!

Ocotber 2009

Alyssa & Carly 7 months old

June 2009

Carly & Alyssa 2 months old

April 2009

Carly & Alyssa 2 weeks old

March 27th 2009

Our 1st face-to-face-to-face

Carly & Alyssa, a few minutes old

Survived the 1st round of weddings this summer. Every thing's different when you have kids, why do I keep forgetting that? Like I am ever going to have real fun again, until they're what, like 18 YEARS old? Never?

People who have older kids forget how hard the newborn/baby years are. Everything is about where can I change this diaper, what can they eat off this buffet table, hope that drunk lady with her shoes off doesn't trample my kid! Mommy doesn't get to socialize, eat, or drink. I thought my days of being sober at wedding receptions were over after I wasn't pregnant anymore. I swear it was like everyone I knew decided to get married while I was pregnant and have open bars. It sucked.

Now the only thing better is I have a few more cute ass accessories to tote around on my hip. I mean really with these two by my side, how can I not be happy anywhere I go no matter how stressful it is?








We are a handsome family.









In a few years they will all be more manageable and can run wild on their own a little more while I sit back from a distance and discuss details of my family member's life I want to know about but never have the chance to ask these days. I'm too busy sweating my make-up away and switching out 1 year olds.

Then I am reminded why I even attempt adventures outside my home. The anxiety of taking my three ring circus on the road subsides for a seconds when Black Eyed Peas 'Good Night' comes on and my girls twirl in circles on the dance floor as Bryce modestly busts few of his break dancing moves under the disco lights. For that fleeting moment, all is right in the world.

I will use this memory to replace the military TAPS melody still echoing in my head from the tribute to fallen soldiers played as I watched my 21 year old cousin hang his head in the silhouette of his Bride and morbidly wondered what everyone else in the room was thinking right then.

I don't consider myself a 'crier' and yet I break down at the oddest times. My buddies at Bootcamp must think I'm nutty. I've had a few public crying sessions there and more than a few private ones. I busted out crying at my first weigh in after Phase I Bootcamp when I lost 22.2 lbs, and it wasn't like a celebratory cry it was a sad sob.

What's weird is I don't cry at normal times, like when I couldn't cry at my uncle's funeral last summer when my entire family around me bawled like babies on one of the saddest days in our history. I never cry when asked about my Rest in Peace tattoo and I tell them the tragic story behind it. I answer monotone, like I'm not effected at all by something that moved me to permanently memorialize my body in honor of someone I lost at 15.

It still felt good to be at the Bonus Bootcamp class on our off week, soaked in sweat under the evening light versus comfort of darkness for my 5:30 am sessions. Always reminds me of last year when I first began my journey. I feel like a different person now, not just physically but there are more experience under my belt and I am more knowing in the ways of the world. At least more expertised in the ways of my world and how to make it run smoother. Those newborn days were rough! I never slept!

Now I just suffer my allergies and go on. I cry because I can't breathe, my sinuses are all jacked up, my blood pressure is racing and we're just in warm ups! I want to perform. I want to find that Happy Place where my blood is pumping oxygen too all the tiny crevices of my body that crave it and air reaches the depths of my diaphragm and the mucus in my lungs is not impeding my air flow. I've been getting dizzy lately, all the time, not just when I'm exercising. I am annoyed at my show of weakness, which makes me cry more.

But I know what's really going on. There's a pattern here. I remember crying on the soles of my blood stained shoes last summer when I was in the midst of fighting my son's bone infection. After yet another summer day spent at Kosair Hospital watching botched IV's of contrast for yet another MRI spill my baby's blood all over the table and floor, I found solace in my evening workout even if it meant mixing droplet of tears and rivers of sweat with that blood on my feet. I could cry then, let my shield down for 30-45 minutes as I pushed my body to hurt as much as I did inside. It was a soothing alternative for the pain.

I've found the soothing soreness of an after work out recovery is an effective alternative to suffering from pain of all kinds.

I knew what I was upset about today even more than my physical setbacks at the moment. All I could think about on my ride there was Alyssa's follow up tests at Kosair for her annual check up on her kidney condition schedule earlier that afternoon. Even though she's fine, I know she's fine and I am just so thankful for that, the thought of holding her down again while she's in pain while they perform uncomfortable and painful procedures on her sucks.

I finally make my way through the workout without passing out. My hair is wet as if I got out of the shower. I can control my tears again. I sit a while and listen to the newbies ask questions and I want to be encouraging and tell them go read my blog for inspiration, but all I can do is sit there today.

I made it.

It's amazing. The feeling I get after I make good choices eating all day is SO MUCH better than giving into my craves, no matter how strong they are.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to sit at a table in a restaurant where everyone around you is eating this cheesy, thick crust, delicious looking pizza and order a lettuce wrap? Then to sit there through the whole meal feigning like a crackhead fighting myself every second not to give in to the desire for what I think I want, but don't need.

Eyes on the prize, that's what my trainer Kyle always says to me. Its hard to see that prize when a big peanut butter cookie is starring you in the face.

This weekend I will not be so strict on myself and eat tortilla chips in the Mexican restaurant and start drinking before noon. But in order to wear the slinky pink dress I bought and prance around wearing my bikini at the pool, I knew I had to be strong. Its all about sacrifice.

And then after it was over, and I won, I felt so good. Triumphant. Strong. I am not a slave to myself or really cheesy pizza. Not only are my muscles stronger, my will power is as well. Now if it would only STAY that way!!!

Before & After By Bryce

Before I post my official before and after pics from Bootcamp this year, here's a little preview thanks to my son's random renegade photo sessions. He is infamous at grabbing my camera off whatever perch I have placed it on and starting to take pictures. Sometimes he's actually not bad.

Even though he cut off my head in both pics (it must be difficult to always shoot subjects from such a low vantage point) I feel its a fair pictorial interpretation of my progress over the past three months.

This first picture was taken during the first week of Phase I Bootcamp in February.



And this taken three months of hard work later during the first week of Phase 4 in May.



You know you like my blender and Whey protien powder in the background! lol

COMING SOON:

The before pic from June 2009 and after from one year of hard work at Maximun Fitness coming in June 2010!!!

I lost weight on vacation.

I lost weight....on vacation.

That deserves some bold and italic font for emphasis.

A whole pound difference from my weigh in Friday morning and today, in the right direction. Usually over the course of a regular 'ol weekend I can put on a pound or five from just going out and having fun for a night. So going out of town and not losing control is a big one for me.

Its not easy being the odd man out, the one who has to make decisions and strategize ways to resist temptation before they occur. I know what going out of town usually means, especially with my family. What can I say we like to eat! Its part of the planning, part of the fun.

So an hour into the road trip we are making the first pit stop... at McDonald's. I wanted a cheese burger and iced coffee so bad, but I just kept downing water to prepare my body for the day ahead.

I won the first battle. There was no way I was going to eat McDonald's in the first place, so I knew the real test was yet to come. At the hotel I fueled myself with low sodium turkey, cheese and almonds while feeding the kids snacks from teh stash I brought from home. I had a refriderator and microwave and all the 'wierd food' from my fridge that neede dto get used up. Set up for success.

I passed on a 5-star dinner buffet and ate grilled chicken. No breakfast buffet int he mornign either. I contained my desire for mini-quish and cake at my cousin's wedding shower. At the hotel, I avoided the room where my family brought their own goodies from home, triple layer carrot cake and homemade dumplins. It was like Thankdgiving up in that bitch. I would have loved some carrot cake.

Panic set in during the debate for dinner when it became obviosu ever other member of out party was going to the buffet again and i was pushed into a corner. So I ate some snacks in the room to take the edge off, shut off my sensory smell and sat between my babies and fed them fruit, baked beans, peas, and pudding while everyone around me pigged out. I didn't want to pay $19.99 for a salad, when I knew if I took a plate up to that temptation, I would come back with more than I was willing to risk.

I was fine and the feeling of accomplishment felt better than the food coma I would have been in for the rest fo the night for gorging out on 20 different things. It paid off.

I lost weight on vacation. After that, I know anything is possible!



Feeding the girls at the buffet I did not eat!

I heart Maximum Fitness

I do not love working out.

I do not love the alarm clock going off at 4:20am three days a week. I do not love sweating, I do not love being in pain. I do not love not being able to physically do something. I do not love being off balance. I do not love not being able to breathe, or my chest hurting, or my muscles screaming when I'm holding a squat or just trying to sit down on a toilet.

I do not 'love' exercising.

What keeps me doing it, sacrificing my sleep, time, pasta and potatoes is not the pounds disappearing from my body, though that is a definite plus. What I love is how it makes me feel.

Not while I'm doing it, because of course that part sucks. It doesn't feel good at the time to push yourself when you want to quit. When thoughts intrude like, 'I can't do this' that does not feel good. When you are trying to do something that sounds easy in theory like a side plank but you can barely get your ass off the ground, that does not feel good.

What does make you smile on the way home is when its over and you did it. Another day passes where you got out of bed before the sun came up and busted your ass like a marathon trainer or mom on mission. And even if you do horrible on your diet the rest of the day, or can't get up off the couch cause you hurt so bad, none of that matters because you didn't give up and tomorrow is another day closer to Wednesday where you're gonna get up and have the chance to do it all over again.

Except this time you will be better.

It will not get easier, it gets harder Kyle says, but you get stronger and you feel even better about your self and life and before you know it, you're smiling on the way there too.

Don't get it twisted. I do not love working out. I just love how it makes me feel.

Life does not get easier, but I get stronger.

Now I know what happens to the celebrities when they faint on stage or have a breakdown on live TV and sound like a coo coo head. When they take a break from work for a while or enter the hospital due to 'exaugstion'.

I think I'm about there.

In my head, the answer to all my problems would be a week away at a spa or somewhere sunny and quiet where I could lay in bed for a week or more at a time. Sleeping, not even reading or watching TV. Kind of like an induced coma, but I could wake up periodically and enjoy the view from my room. I wouldn't have to talk to people or take care of anyone else. They would feed me fruit, a bread bowl with warm soup, and chocolate in bed for every meal. To prevent atrophy, I would walk around a naturistic trail in the evenings and get massages several times a day to keep my blood pumping. Oh wait, that sounds too much like Heaven and getting there requires a serious step in the worst direction and I'm not willing to give up the good fight here for that yet, so I trudge on.

I realize I've lost my mojo a little bit. I can't find my 'happy place' at Bootcamp. Today I tried moving off by myself away from my freinds to maybe get some of my concentration back to no avail. My mind is not right.

If I go back and read my recent blogs, they are dark and depressing. No motivational speeches here. I like the positive ones better, but what's the point of having a blog if you're not honest, so stay tuned, I will return to my inspirational self soon enough. I hope. I will always have hope! If I lose that, I would be way to close to that spa in the sky.

I know will still reach my goals. I will come back around out of this funk, but it sucks to be stuck here in this darkness for the moment. The difference is now at this enlightened point in my life, I know there is a light on the other side, I just haev to paitently wait until I find my way to it again.

I was never good at being paitent.

Now I'm just in one of those pissed off for any and every reason moods. Mad at the world. I need some Bootcamp in the morning to calm my ass down.

Tonight was like the crescendo. Every time I turned to put out one fire, another bomb erupted behind my back. Alyssa has learned to climb on the couch and its a constant battle to keep her from climbing anything she can hike her leg up on.

So there she is sitting on the end table via the couch. As I fight her stubborn ass because all she wants to do now is sit on the end table, I realize my son is being way too quiet sitting behind the chaise lounge. Alarm bells for any parent. I pop up on him and catch him in the act of putting all his puzzle pieces down the air vent register.

As I was sticking my hand in to the spider web unknown, Alyssa reached the end table again and spilled my glass of water everywhere. As I ran to her, Carly continued her wail for her Teddy we couldn't find. We've never lost her Teddy before and this is the moment that happens? Right when they are ready for bed and I am ready for a few Ambien to take me away for a few days.

We of course have a back up Teddy, which was int he wash, so I leave them unattended to run downstairs and put it in the dryer. I hear a loud bang, the kind where you wince and freeze and wait to analyze the degree of injury from their cry. Silence. I bolt up the stairs and find both Alyssa and Bryce chilling on the end table, lamp on the floor.

What an end to my never ending Spring Break.

And there's still no end in sight. After tomorrow, I am on solo parent duty the rest of the weekend so my husband can visit his Dad in Georgia to fish. Recreation, what's that? I can't even dream of my non existnat get away at the moment. Even dreaming doesn't help. Even Bootcamp didn't help today. I think I am in trouble. My back is hurt from picking up my 35 pounder the wrong way over a week ago and of course it never gets to rest. I squat press 20, 26, and 35 lbs all day long. I feel like I could be an episode of 16 and Pregnant, except I'm older. If teenagers knew how much work being a good parent was, they would for sure double strap it up.

When I think of all my family on the beach in Florida, I keep singing in my head that margarita song 'Pour me something tall and strange, make it a Hurricane before I go insane.' And sad thing is, I don't even think alcohol will help because nothing I do can change my reality, all that is left is to change my attitude about it.

And right now I'm just fucking mad, so there's no talking rationally to an angry person. Even if its yourself and you realize how lucky you are to have so many blessings in life and that there's no reason to be ungreatful, but god damn can I just get a break!?

Spring Break? What break!?

This has been one of the longest weeks of my life. At least in the beginning when the babies were born and it was so hard, everything was a blur due to sleep deprivation and breast feeding frenzies. My pain from the c-section kept me distracted, the pain pills kept me slightly numb. Nowadays I just go crazy, go to sleep, and do it all again the next day. There is no relief in sight.

All my family (which equals all my babysitters, the trusted, valued, people who relieve my stress) went to Florida. My husband is working double duty to cover my brother's work during his spontaneous vacation. Must be nice.

My 2 year old son is out of his Mother's Day Out program all week long and just the four of us have been cooped up in this house driving each other insane. I think they are tired of me too and each other. Sure its been nice outside, but how can one person handle three out of our comfort, baby proofed zone? I logistualy can't take them to the grocery, they all won't fit in a cart. The park alone is too difficult, I tried.

This is the first time I have truly been alone with them without the help of family and I suppose its good for me to get perspective on how it truly takes a village, but fuck I just want to sit down for a moment.

I fell off the food bandwagon. I feel like I undid one month of hard work in one week!!! I lost 3.6lbs during the March Phase II Bootcamp, a pound a week, and I'm sure I gained at least that much back after my week 'off.' The thing that rests the most during the 'rest week' is my willpower!


Why is it I always seem to take two steps forward, one step back? That's twice the work with only half the results!!!

Get your shit together, Leah!

I feels really good to go shopping for clothes and when you try them on, they actually fit. And you don't immediately want to cry when you look in the mirror. I am down two sizes in the past six months. I will have to buy a whole new wardrobe for summer, but I might as well wait a little longer because at this rate I will be down another size soon!

I have never felt better in my life. Not physically or emotionally. I was worried about what life would be like after I had the twins. I had been off anti-depressants during the pregnancy and didn't want to start back after I had the babies because I was breastfeeding.

Yes, I fed them both at the same time, God gave us multiple boobs for more than symmetry! It was an awesome experience this time around, unlike the previous attempt with my son. No one tells you its not easy, they let you believe in the facade that breastfeeding a baby is the most natural thing in the world and its not. Not only does it HURT, but it requires hard work and commitment a lot of new mothers don't have the energy or desire for.

I knew it would be stressful having three babies under 2 years old. It's harder than you can even imagine, and most people imagine it pretty bad. Plus I am prone to depression, I'm afraid it runs in my blood and I just pray I didn't pass those genes on to them. How was I going to survive???

When people say to me, 'I just don't know how you do it.' I always respond, 'I just do it.' Give me a freaking Nike endorsement.

When the babies were three months old and I started going to Bootcamp, I couldn't do even half the exercises. Literally. I couldn't do Jumping Jacks because anything requiring me to jump made my aching boobs hurt even worse. I already had to worry about them leaking all over my shirt, how embarrassing is that? I couldn't run or even do a crunch. But I kept moving, I pushing myself closer towards the image of myself I had in my head, not the hot mess I saw in the mirror.

I had no idea half a year later I would still be here. I am not afraid of the mirror anymore, or the scale. My boobs don't hurt anymore and the only think soaking my shirt is sweat. I can hang with the crowd and people draw inspiration from me. Me!

One of the awesome trainers at MaxFit gave me a card at the end of Phase 1 Bootcamp congratulating me on my hard work. I was honored she noticed and took the time out to do that because I often modeled myself after her, copying her form, keeping her pace.

The card hangs on my refrigerator and everyday when I open that door and I am faced with a choice that is going to bring me closer or further away from my goals, I am reminded, "You are an example of what it takes to succeed.' And the choice gets easier and easier everyday.

Finally another 3lbs off! My body has not been as generous on the scale during Phase 2 Bootcamp. I know I should be happy with the 22 lbs I lost the first month, but I had it in my head I was going to do it again!

If I lost another 20 lbs, that would mean ALL my baby weight would be off and I would weigh what I did when I got married and I remember being pretty happy with myself then. It wasn't my all time lowest weight, but I was healthy and happy and I would take it.
-------------->
2007
Me on my honeymoon in Miami!
(Pre-kids all time happiest)



<---------------
2005
Me at my UL
Graduation Party

(All time lowest weight)

So it was kind of disappointing the first week going by without losing a single pound. I was working just as hard, eating well, sticking to the diet. I wasn’t complaining because I know how my body is, I drop a lot of weight real fast, and then I plateau. If I keep working I drop more fast again, then back to the plateau. Plus I was on my period and that messes with the numbers.

It's OK though cause I'm not giving up or regressing. I am still seeing the results in my clothes, feeling my body get tighter, less bounce to the ounce! But come on scale, cooperate!

I have a pretty close online relationship to my trainer Kyle Harrod and he encouraged even more contact. Told me to start reporting what I ate on a daily basis. Oh crap, now I really had to shape up. It makes a difference when someone pushes you to be accountable to yourself. I told him I would be honest even if it revealed how much of a crack head I am when it comes to food. And he told me he would be judging me on what I ate, so hopefully that will be another tool to fight off temptation when a donut is starring me in the face.

No more tiny snacks in between, a bite here, a taste there. No more cleaning the leftovers off my son or husband's plate like I was a human garbage disposal or a dog eating sraps. Obviously that shit was adding up and affecting my numbers, not to mention the back to back weekend drinking I did this month. There was no drinking going on during Phase 1, I was that motivated. Sorry whiskey.

So this week no more alcohol, even less carbs, lots of water… and BAM! There it was, another drop in the scales. And I can’t wait for Friday because this week it is on. I am getting closer to that bikini bod again! haha

I doubt I'll ever bust out the red sequined dress again though!

If you want to see more skinny pictures of me, visit my 'Old School' photo album on Myspace. I was pretty freaking skinny then, but also pretty sick. I learned the hard way skinny does not equal healthy! That's another story for another time. Maybe one day I'll get brave enough to tell it and even post my 'before' pictures! They motivate me, the before and after because it reminds me of what I am capable of on both ends of the spectrum.

I know which direction I am heading in and I like how I'm getting there.


http://viewmorepics.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewPicture&friendID=57257551&albumId=1793589


Another skinny Leah pic, Thanksgiving 2004

I've seen the future....

And I like what I see. I've seen the future, because the future is now. Amazing what a little time can do for a situation, any situation really. For a person who thrives on instant gratification, time is otten the enemy.

But here I sit, 8:36pm on a Tuesday night. I have read two magazines. Two, while the magic of Elmo lulled my son into his pre-sleep state. The girls had a walk after dinner, bath, then bed at 7:00. I cannot believe this routine crap works. Maybe its just a cruel trick the few nights of uninterrupted sleep in a row has done to my mind, but I really think its working.

My husband deserves the credit and I proudly tell the world about our success, though I realize they do not, can not, grasp the magnitude of this milestone. Our kids are sleeping though the night. There I said it, against the fear if I spoke the truth aloud or admitted it to myself even in thought... poof! One of them would awake.

Sure I'll be up several times throughout the night for a wet diaper or four. There is no real such thing as completely sleeping through the night (is there? yet?) but I will take a few diaper changes then right back to bed over our previous up and down all damn night battle ANY night.

A few weeks ago Kenny put the ban on babies in the bed. He said he wanted his wife back, but really I think he just wanted the covers and some room. The queen size bed wasn't cutting it with 3-4 of us at a time! I didn't really mind them there. We kept a baby on constant rotation all night long. You never knew if the one you fell esleep with was goingto be the one you woke up with depending on who cried out next. As soon as one woke up, the other cuddled up one in my arms went back to their bed and a fresh body molded to mine.

Sure, my arm was asleep all the time and my hand was numb half the night, but damn they are good cuddlers. And smell way better than my husband. I was throwing my shoulder out of whack from always being in the baby cradling position. But I loved them and thought it was sweet.... until I realized I would get more sleep if they just slept instead of crying until mommy came to the rescue like they knew I would.

So we tried it his way. A few nights of torture (for me) otherwise known as the Cry It Out method and viola. All of a sudden they are sleeping without even getting up for a bottle.

My babies are growing up. They eat a lot of real food and are down to two bottles a day! Two! They used to eat every two hours. Wow. They have one nap a day, at the same time, no more tag teaming us with that one up, one down bullshit. I can actually plan stuff around naptime now because I know they will be ready to go to sleep for an hour or two from 10:00-12:00 everyday. They roam the house pretty freely, busting out of the baracaded living room that was maybe more of our comfort zone of safety than their preferred play area.

Time has passed, distorted by the trials of the past year we've faced. Sometimes it seems like if flew by, but most of the time it feels like I've lived a whole lifetime in these past 12 months. I was still hobbling around with them inside me fighting for space against my ribs and internal organs less than a year ago and here they are now fighting each other at their first birthday photo shoot!

I was smiling at 4:52am.

For real, couldn't make myself stop smiling. Two of my favorite songs came back to back on the radio and I just laughed at how happy I was to be going to Phase 2Bootcamp before dawn on a Monday morning. The sun was even starting to lighten the sky by the time I was on my way home! There wasn't a trace of snow anywhere on the gorud. I wasn't even wearing a jacket!

A week off had allowed my body to rest, minus the 5K race I completed Saturday. I was proud of myself for doing it, but also disappointed that I found it so hard. I think I set myself up. All the visualizing I did in my head didn't match the reality of the situation. I am not a runner anymore. I still have more weight on my body than needed. For so long when I was on bedrest, or trying to inspire myself with a postive mental image to keep from thinking about a bad one, I would imagine myself running a mini marathon. I was wearing a bright colored shirt and joyfully bouncing across the finish line.


When I executed this dream over the weekend, I had the bright colored shirt, but the only joyful bouncing going on was my ass. By the way, I saw some funny looking asses during my run that did make me feel better about my own! My husband pointed out all the nice butts were probably far ahead of us! I was kind of diapointed after the race at my performance.

But by Monday my knee and ankle felt better again. I remebered other things I noticed during my downtime, the progress that isn't noted on my weighloss/measurment chart. It is easier to do a squat with 25+ pounds baby im my arms. Effortless, actually. I do it without cringing or pain in knee or hips. I bet if I were dancing in the club I could drop it like its hot and come right back up without geting stuck and do it again!

I can reach things I couldn't get to before. I am more flexible, agile even. I can climb in and out the back of a tiny sports car without hoisting or moaning and graoning. Clothes that were tight when I bought them 6 months ago are falling off my body. I can actually get a pair of jeans over my hips and thighs without unbuttoning them. Hell, I need a belt! That never happens.

Sometimes when I look in the mirror all I can see is how far I still have to go. But some of the most important victories I've had this week were not physical. I sat at Clifton's, the yummiest, cheesiest, crust filled pizza place in town, and didn't eat. I just enjoyed the company and avoided the temptations. I went to another pizza party at my family's house to watch the last UL game in Freedom Hall and I brought my own food in a bag. They looked at me like I was crazy, but I didn't crack.

To me, that is more of a success than any number in the record book. And the record books have my name all over them these days, I lost 22.2 lbs the first round of Bootcamp. In one month. And now I'm ready to do it again! I can never express how greatful I am to Kyle Harrod and the people I have come in contact with at Maximun Fitness for the inspiration and opportunity to grow and become stronger at such an awesome place.

Today I was an Olympic Athlete.....

I was on top of the mountain and it wasn't cold because the sun was shining and I was sweating, so the fresh air felt good on my face. The sky was blue, the snow was sparkling, and my body was a well functioning machine. I was a hot gold metal winner on a podium, Sports Illustrated freaking hot in a slutty sports pose on the cover!

I found my 'happy place' today, my moment of zen where all of a sudden it doesn't hurt while working out, my breathing regulates, and my blood flows and it seems easy to do push ups or jump squats for 50 second intervals with only 10 seconds of rest for 30 minutes. I get in the zone. unfortunatly it doesn't happen every time I work out. I often get distracted by other people, my own thoughts, the count down of how much time is left before I am finished torturing myself.

But the mornings I am killing it in Bootcamp, my mind is a million miles away. I flash images in my head until one clicks and I go with it. A method of meditation I remembered from some old self help tape I listened to unsuccessfully as an adolescent actually works now.

My most popular vision is of Hawaii, probably because its the most beautiful place I've actually ever been and experienced, so I can recall the details easier needed to take me there again mentally. I'm running on a beach, its hot, the mountains are in the background, the ocean off to my left. I look great in my bikini, all tan and toned. White beaches, palm trees, salty air, frosty Pina Colada waiting for me back at my beach towel. The works. It works. Before I know it my set is over and I just mentally went on vacation.

When I got bored with that scenario, I began to travel to places I've never really been. Made up places that don't exist anywhere else but in my mind. This method is beneficial and neverending because all the details can be made up by me.

Another favorite is a perfect long country road, green trees everywhere, budding flowers pollinating the air, fields that stretch like the ocean full of an allergy sufferer's nightmare. But I am running and I can breathe. I take in the fresh air and it smells so fucking good. Like the color green or summer or how sunshine would smell if the whole world weren't polluted by our toxic waste. I don't sneeze or wheeze or cough, I can run forever and drink the air in like it was the purest water in the world. Time! Another set is over.

I've been clubbing in Tokyo like I was in a Brittany video and I wasn't scared of the size of the crowd packed into the loft penthouse pulsing to techno music and sweating in unison. Sometimes I'm on stage, like Beyonce in some costume and outrageous heels, and I'm giving it my all because the sold out crowd is demanding their money's worth. Sometimes I'm in a video. Or swimming laps in a very cold Lake Michigan with the Chicago skyline behind me. Some days when I just need to get through that last 10 seconds, I pretend I'm dancing(or doing it! ha!) with the finest, best looking man in the entire world and I refuse to let myself stop.

Today, I was an atelete.

Fuck a 5:30am February Bootcamp!

It's not the Bootcamp part I am mad at, or even the 5:30am wake up call. It's the February, let's-have-a-snow-storm-every-week part that is pissing me off! Seriously, I have driven through TWO snow storms risking my life and almost as important my husband's 4-wheel drive work truck (which equals our livelihood at this point) to go exercise at 5:30 in the freaking morning!

Several times I told myself I'm crazy. Who in their right mind gets up at 3:30am and drives to Mount Washington in a snowstorm to go workout? Me, and about 15 other dedicated people! Intellectually it seems to make no sense. How stupid to venture out into the dark, alone, on snow/ice filled roads to exercise. Crazy.

But you know what? The more I told myself I am crazy, the more I realized I didn't FEEL crazy. I feel good. I feel energized and happy and proud of myself for not letting even a snowstorm or two hold me back. And I am doing freaking awesome, I've lost 16lbs so far and can tell a major difference in my clothes already. It just makes me feel so good.

Plus, I'm sick. A sore throat from hell didn't even stop me from not missing a class. I'm stressed to the max over sick babies with never-ending ear infections and colds. Carly and Bryce are both having surgery Friday on their ears and I'm scared and worn out from the whole routine of doctor's offices, pharmacies, and insurance referrals. Its overwhelming and draining to spend my days just waiting for my babies to get better.

But Bootcamp, for me, has always provided an escape from everything else. 1 hour of no fear, 1 hour of not caring or paying attention to anyone else, 1 hour out of 24 in a day to work on ME. That's not too much to ask, and if I have to get up at 3:30am and start drinking coffee to feed babies and get them settled back in before I leave, clean snow and ice off my car, dredge out into less than ideal weather conditions to make that happen, then that's what I will do.

'Yo!' As my trainer would say, I was 'killing it' this morning in Bootcamp. Rocking it. Cranking it! For the first time when he called out an exercise towards the end of a 45 minute workout, full sit ups, I couldn't wait to begin.

I had this and I knew it. I practiced full sit ups at home all last fall until I could do them after still struggling with ab work during my Noon Bootcamp class. I got tired of always half ass doing exercises because of my weak abdominal muscles or because of my knee injury (which was legit and still hurts during certain exercises or if I push myself too hard). All around me people had been doing full sit ups and there I lay, half way raising up off the mat.

I was discoureged. I was tired of finishing last. I could see some progress from when I started. Even though when it was time to jog around the building I was always the last to round the corner, at least I wasn't getting lapped by people anymore. I used to only be able to walk the laps, now I could semi-jog. But it wasn't enough. I'm not the kind of girl who finishes last and it was wearing on me always being behind, adapting expercises to cater to my injury and weaknesses, feeling not as good as the others.

One night at home, I was laying on the floor playing with the babies and when it was time to sit up, I all of a sudden pulled up in a sit up position.... with no pain! I lay right back down and did it again. And did it again. And again until my daughter crawl-tackled me, amused at my little game. Holy shit I could do a sit up!

This was major for me because 4 months earlier when I started Bootcamp in the summer, I could barely even do a crunch. I was 12 weeks off my second c-section in less than as many years and my insides were still healing. Any ab work hurt.

Why wouldn't it, pregnancy itself is a shock to the body even though its what we as women were designed to do, carry a baby around on our inside. Throw in back to back pregnancies (one with TWINS!) with back to back surgeries involing all the layers of your gut being cut open and sewed back together and no wonder my abs hurt! That shit is jarring and tramatic to your body, someone cutting through all the skin, fat, muscle, tissue, utuerus walls to rip out soemthing that is literally growing and attched to your body. Ah, childbirth via c-section! It ain't pretty, but I can usually find a positive to any situation... at least my goodies survived tight and in tact!

I digress...

By November after my realization I could in fact do a sit up with no pain, I came to the conclusion the only thing holding me back had been the memory of the pain and fear that it might hurt. It didn't actually hurt anymore to do a sit up. I was siking myself out!

After that little break through it was over. When it was time to 'crank it in 5...4...3...2...1' I was off. Back straight, arms straight up over my head, slow coming up and going down, measured breathing, head high, shoulders back. Perfect execution. The best thing about it, all of a sudden I wasn't the weakest one in the class. The women on either side of me were both struggling, unable to do even one, and there I was knocking them out. It felt great.

One of the girls asked, 'Leah, how do you do that with all them babies?'

'Hard work. I practice. 3 months ago I couldn't do one either.'

I tell her a brief version of my story hoping I am an inspiration to not give up and keep trying. I want other mothers especially to know they can do it, just don't give up. We are MOTHERS! We can do anything!

Best of all was the realization that I was no longer the weakest one in the class. There were people in there who couldn't do the things I could. I was no longer finishing behind the pack.

Dare I say I am a leader?

When I get really sleep deprived, not just normal everyday sleep deprived, but I-haven't-had-more-than-an-hour-of-uninterrupted-sleep-in-a-week-or-so sleep deprived, I become weepy. I find myself pleading with 10 month olds in the middle of the night to please just give Mommy a break and SLEEP, as they laugh and play footsie with each other in my arms. They are so damn cute, I alternate smiling at them while I can't stop crying and then I really feel looney toons. And they just look up at me and smile, oblivious that their mother's sanity is slipping away and if they would just SLEEP, I could SLEEP and be such a better mother to them!

Then when the 2:00am-5:00am battle is finally over and they have surrendered to their cribs, I lay in bed and cry some more. Feel sorry for myself like everyone else does, the ones who say, 'I just don't know how you do it' and the ones who flat out say, 'I feel so sorry for you!'

Most of the time I don't feel sorry for myself at all, I just feel blessed. When people say, 'I'm glad its you and not me!' I respond in my head, 'Me too cause I doubt you could do what I do!' But sometimes in that crazy I can't sleep because I'm so freaking tired state, I feel sorry for me too.

Nobody understands. Not my parents, not my family, certainly not my friends who still invite me out for girls night not understanding getting a babysitter is nearly impossible with three babies nobody wants to watch because its too much work and work is not fun! Other twin moms might understand and my husband certainly understands, but he's not much comfort when he's just as sleep deprived as me!

By 6:30am Bryce is crying with his morning wet diaper hello, and I can't even be grateful that he didn't wake up sooner, because sometimes we are all up at 3:00am, me alone struggling on the couch with three sleepy babies who want a spot on me, while my husband works his graveyard shift that won't end until late the following night.

Once one is up, they are all up, so I begin a fresh day with extra strong coffee Kenny made to try and jolt me out of my sleepy, weepy state. I send Bryce off to school and cry some more when I can't make a doctor's appointment for Carly to get tubes in her ears because the person who does the referrals is out sick. Maybe if she wasn't in so much pain, she'd SLEEP and not scream so loud she keeps up all up at night.

I cry on the phone to the office lady who tells me to try back later in the week and say pitifully, 'OK I'll just let her suffer in pain until someone decides to send the fax over!' And I hang up and cry some more.


I know its all just a phase and they will grow and I will long for my sweet baby days (damn it I'm still crying!) but sometimes I just want to SLEEP.

And yes, they are both sleeping peacfully now because they were up half the night, and despite the genious advice to 'sleep when the baby sleeps', (which doesn't work well for parents of multiples because do you know what the odds are that all three will sleep at the same time for any good length of time to allow me to get any meaningful sleep? Slim to none!) I've drank too much damn coffee to lay down.

Besides, really what's the point because the second I slip off into unconsciousness, the baby monitor will flare up like a fucking switch board and I will just have to drudge myself back from the edge of dreamland and be Zombie Mom again for the rest of the day until my relief pitcher shows up in the form of another less sleep deprived Daddy or family member who has mercy on me and takes a kid or two, God Bless them!