Pre-Deployment Family Photos

Sorry about that last post.

Depressed much?

I try to keep this blog as honest and true to myself as possible, but I still have yet to find that perfect balance between what is too much and what is not enough

... as far as content, that is.

But the fact of the matter is that this is my life now -- pregnancy and deployment. And as much as I can  post another movie review or another fabulous DIY tutorial, my blog wouldn't be my blog if I didn't share myself with it. My struggles in finding my place in this world. My true feelings about "going for broke" in life. So yeah, you'll keep seeing those kinds of posts now and again.

But this post is not one of them.

This post has pictures!

One thing I wanted to make sure we did as a family before Jobi left was to take family photos. No way was I going to let him go off on his grand adventure without leaving photos of himself behind for the kids. Sure, we have Skype and what not, but we don't really have photos of him with the kids, and in case anything happens, I want them to see that their father loves them, that they love their father, and that we truly are a family.

I'm beyond grateful for Marianna Ah Quin who took our photos. Because the kids are still small, there aren't any pics where all of them are looking at the camera at once. But these pretty much portray my little family accurately: from my Jobi's military haircut, to the clothes that Blondie picked out herself. Here are only a few:

I love this one!

And Chip's crying never ends.....

Daddy's little girl -- Almonds' best friend

My favorite

And our happy family... never mind that we all look a little funny.

 I know my kids are gonna love these. And I hope that Jobi will too -- especially while he'll be so far away, and since we'll be adding one more before he returns.

As He Prepares to Leave

Everyone has their battles. Everyone has things that are difficult to do, even if they are easy for other people. Before it all began, I didn't think I would have a problem. I had even looked forward to the idea, thinking of all the possibilities that would be open to me once these situations arise.

I'm talking about deployment.

In the 6 years that my Jobi has been in the military, he has not seen deployment once. Yes, he's been to BCT/AIT, LDAC, and BOLC, but not an actual deployment. Where it's a minimum of 6 months and a maximum of I-can't-tell-you. Where he won't be able to call me until whenever-the-heck-he-can. Where his mission is to something-I-don't-know, and he's going to who-knows-where. This is his first time, and so this is my first time.

And I'm not ready.

I'm not ready to send our bossy little Almonds off to kindergarten this year without him by my side. I'm not ready to make the day-long grocery and household shopping trips across island with Chip screaming in the back, by myself. I'm not ready to give birth to #4 while he watches via Skype. I'm not ready to pay the bills, register the car, fix the fridge, and kill the giant cockroaches. I'm not ready to spend more sleepless nights with anywhere from one to four kids needing to be held, rocked, bathed, fed, sang to, read to, or anything-else-to-get-them-to-sleep. And I'm certainly not ready to spend the hundredth night in a row sleeping alone.

Almonds and Blondie cried the other night. And when I say cried, I mean wailed. I sang them songs; I read them stories; I spoke kind and loving words for what seemed like days. Then I just sat next to them and cried too. Because I knew why they were inconsolable. And it hurt. Their dad isn't deployed yet, but he hasn't come home since post-mobilization began, and they know something's up. This time, "Army work" is different. And they don't like it. Not any more than I do. Not at all. 

So yeah, of all the things I anticipated about being a military wife, I did not expect to hate deployment so much. I did not expect I would cry every night for a month, even while he's home. I especially didn't expect I would dread doing the mundane, laborious things that my husband usually takes care of. Before marriage, I never had a problem with paperwork, money issues, car stuff, household repairs, or shopping with the kids. (I always hated killing giant bugs though -- let's not get ahead of ourselves.) But now, I am a massive stress case. These things have been swirling around me and I can barely keep my balance. But it's too late -- he's already "gone," and so I'm the man of my house now. If I had a choice, I'd fall asleep and wake up when he comes home. But I have no choice. I take it back -- I made my choice. I chose to marry this man. And now I must make another choice: to be strong, or not to be strong. (Wow, that wasn't cliche at all.)

I know I have help. My siblings are the best, and my children adore their family. My friends are just a phone call away (which I suck at, just to let y'all know). This town has lots of great things me and the kids can be involved in, and I'm kinda excited about that. And I know that if we just keep moving, the time will indeed pass. It's my mantra for the rest of this year: Just Keep Moving. And when me and the girls wanna cry for our "Daddy," we will stop and cry. And then we will get up and keep moving. I can't stop too long or I will stay there, and that's no good for anybody. Especially not my children, who need their mother so badly.

So as he prepares to leave, I prepare to stay. To be present. To be lonely, but never alone. To move, and to keep moving. This is my battle, and I'm scared to death.

But I'm gonna win.

9 Things I Hate About Pregnancy

1.   My body changes. A lot.

For those of you who've never experienced pregnancy before, let me elaborate... your belly gets big (obviously). Your butt gets big. Your feet get big. Your boobs get big. Your face gets big (even your nose sometimes). Your skin looks flawless, but then three months later it looks hideous. Your contact lenses don't fit anymore. Your hair looks thicker. EVERYWHERE. Your teeth hurt. You have to pee a lot. (You may not even make it to the toilet... *crickets*) And your taste buds -- you either absolutely love food or loathe and detest it. And don't get me started on your sense of smell...

2.   My emotions change. A LOT. 

Once I made dinner and went to my room before putting away the leftovers. When I came back out, my sister already put them away. I cried. Yep. 

There are other indicators of emotional changes in pregnancy, like when someone puts down the cafeteria food at your old stomping grounds and your usually passive self tells them to shut it. Even if you didn't really eat at said cafeteria; you just suddenly presume they are spoiled, rich brats and you now hate them. 

Or when you cry tears of joy for Russell Crowe's performance at the Oscars with the Les Mis cast... (I will write a review on that. I'm just trying to not make it into an analytic essay.)

3.   My 'okole hurts. 

And my lower back, and my legs. One word: S-C-I-A-T-I-C-A. Look it up. And if you have it but don't get it in check, it'll get worse every pregnancy (trust me -- I KNOW)!

4.   My wardrobe sucks.

Don't ever tell me "but they have super cute maternity clothes all over the place," because then I will pop your face. I hate hate HATE clothes shopping, and I hate even.more. when I can only wear clothes for a limited time. Maternity clothes fit that category. So does a wedding dress.

So yes, instead of trying to keep myself sexy and cute while my belly gets too big for me to walk straight, I dress more like .... well, like I can't walk straight. And save my money for food that helps me do that.

5.   My diet sucks. 

Speaking of food... remember how I said that pregnant women either love food or hate food? It's true. These instances are called food cravings and food aversions. For the first 20 weeks, I am always the latter: nothing tastes good to me. Not my favorite brownies or guava cakes or rocky road ice cream. Not Chinese or cheese or soups. Nothing too sweet, too salty, too sour, or too spicy. Which leaves -- that's right -- fruits and vegetables. What kinda pregnant woman eats only fruits and vegetables?!?

I also have had a diet problem in pregnancy called Gestational Diabetes. I've mentioned it before. That occurs in the latter half of pregnancy, and that is when my taste buds level out and I'm ready to eat my Snickers and M&Ms and milkshakes again. But now I can't. Yep... suck, suck, suck. 

"But it's for a good cause... it's for your baby!" Yeah, don't say that to me, either.

6.   My sleep sucks.

First trimester you just want to sleep it off. Second trimester you can't sleep at all. Third trimester you're thrown in a stupid mix of the first two. I'm too tired to say anymore on this.

7.   I get anxious about being a mother.

Not the yipeeIcan'twaitforthisbabytocome anxious -- the holycrapwhatamIgonnadowiththisbaby anxious. For example: 

Will the baby be healthy? Will she like me? Will she get along with her siblings? Will she be a good, righteous, faithful, upstanding person in the world? Will she be smart, and go to college, and get a good career, and own her own home? Will she wanna get tattoos and pierce her nose and dye her hair the same color as her feelings? Will I be able to teach her how to read, and write, and work, and obey, and share, and take turns, and respect, and love? Should I homeschool her, or put her in every sport and instrument under the sun? Should I make her custom chalk, or shoes, or wall decal? Will I give her everything, or will that be too much? How am I going to handle raising this child? What will people think? 

Like I said, emotions. These questions have come to my mind (not always this dramatic, of course) each pregnancy, so by deductive reasoning (which will also be in short supply now), I blame them on the pregnancy.

8.   I miss being not pregnant.

I miss being on stage. I miss having a sound mind. I miss wearing the cute clothes I have (and can wear over again). I miss working towards getting skinnyier. And I really could go without items 1-7 on this list.

9.   The end is the worst.

If you have ever had a normal pregnancy, the last trimester was probably spent waiting and waiting and waaaaaaaaiting for your little "bundle of joy" to arrive. This is how mine have gone:

Week before delivery: "GETTHISBABYOUTTAMENOWORSOHELPME!!!"

Once in labor: "OWWWITHURTSHOLY***INEVERASKEDFORTHIS!!!"

It's pathetic. But I can't help it. 

I was trying to come up with 10 things, but my brain stopped working.

Of course, there are some things I do like about being pregnant, 

so in all fairness, here is another list for you.

9 Things I Love About Being Pregnant

1. People treat me extra special. ("Oh, take a break." "Let me get that." "You just sit here." "Relax, we got it." I could get used to it.)
2. I have an excuse. ("I can't carry her." "I can't remember." "I can't eat that." "Don't blame me." You could pretty much get away with murder. I'm thinking, though, that the more kids you have, the less effective this could be...)
3. I can eat whatever I want. (Never mind.)
4. Uhhhhhhhhhhh.........

Forget it. That's it.

Hiding Out

"'Alu 'Auha" has been silent since New Year.

This is why:

...not even kidding...

Yep, Number 4!

("I Am Number 4" lol)

Not that I couldn't say anything until it was official,

but I've felt like keeerraaaaaaaaaap since the end of January.

Am I feeling better? A little.

Am I excited to have another child? I think so.

Am I excited to be pregnant again? Hecks to the NO!!

But I'll save that for the next post...

... which I'm gonna write real soon.

P.S. Due date is September 17. :-)

Workin' On My Fitness: Hot Hula Instructor's Training

First off, I apologize for my last post. I re-read it and cringed at how poorly written it was. While I know my posts are never 100% perfection, a post about resolutions should have been more fluid and coherent than that high school level diary entry. I doubt I will blog more often than I have been lately, but I will at least make a more concerted effort to give quality posts each time, making your reading my blog more worth your time and mine.

my manual

As I mentioned in my last post, I registered for a Hot Hula fitness instructor's training workshop, and it was this past Saturday! The workshop really opened my eyes to a new understanding of fitness and culture, and I met other trainers from around the island who are absolutely inspiring. I wanted to share some thoughts on this format, in case anyone was interested in learning more about Hot Hula.

PREMISE

I grew up dancing Polynesian dances. I also grew up trying to dance anything I could get my hands on. This led me to dip my toes in all kinds of dance genres, from ballet to hip hop, to ballroom, to folk, and everything in between. I have also choreographed dances and musical numbers throughout my life. Not anything spectacular -- but if you're looking for not spectacular, I'm your girl! :-) I love to dance, and to perform in general, but I'm too old to even start to pursue it professionally. ("Don't ever say you're too old!" Pro dancing is an exception to this statement.) When I first heard about this back in 2010, not only did I think it was brilliant (and about time, I was tired of Zumba already!), but it was something that I could do. Something that kept me doing what I love, sharing (in a small way) the cultures that I love, and staying fit for the rest of my life.

THE FITNESS MIND

As a dancer, training to be an HHF instructor was illuminating. The first thing our master trainers told us was that the primary reason HHF was created is fitness. That means you're not supposed to come to a HHF class to learn how to hula, or to learn how to fa'arapu, or to learn our cultures. You come to get a workout. This should be obvious, but when you live in the land of hula, your paradigm for this format needs to shift. Thankfully I do live in Hawaii, and I can tell people "if you wanna learn real hula, join the halau down the street," or "if you wanna see real Tahitian, go to Tahiti Fete." But if you are looking for a fun dancing workout that takes a break from Zumba and Hip Hop Abs, come check us out!

So as  dancer-turned-instructor, I have 3 things I need to keep in mind as I prepare for this job:

"The moves are modified to give you a workout."

Almost every move that we know in the dancing world is modified for the Hot Hula format, and the statement above explains why. It makes sense when you consider that the creator, Anna-Rita Sloss, created this program from a fitness background, NOT a dancing one. In our manuals, the moves are written out for us and described in columns. The last column shows the different body parts that are being worked with this move. I need to study this section so I can have a better understanding of the exact workout class members will be getting, and let go of my pre-conditioned "proper form."

"You teach the siva exactly as it is and nothing else."

The siva is the bread and butter of the workout, and Anna-Rita has already created 9 of them for us. This was the most disillusioning part of my training. I love to choreograph. I love to fuse different kinds of dance styles together. I love to create a dance from a song of my own choice, and I thought fitness instructors could do that. So of course, I was bummed. But here is how the reason was explained to me: it keeps the fitness format consistent no matter where you go and who teaches, and it keeps from liabilities that come with instructors doing their own thing. For example, one master instructor went to someone else's HHF class, and that lady did fa'arapu all the way down and duck walks. In Tahitian, that's awesome; in HHF, that's bad for your knees. And if someone's knees get messed up because they did duck walk, they could sue Anna-Rita for this one instructor's deviation.

"Start on a high; end on a high."

This one isn't a dealbreaker or anything, but it's something I personally have a big problem with. What I mean is that when I am in front of people, I don't smile. Like ever. (Except for when I dance and do Broadway-type shows -- because I have to.) Even when I was a dance instructor, I never smiled or exuded enthusiasm and energy. I'm guessing it's a mental thing -- my purpose teaching dancing was just to teach them the dance. In Hot Hula, my purpose as their instructor is to give them the Hot Hula workout experience. The master trainers told us, "You give them 50%; they'll give you 15%. So if you want them to give you 100%, you have to give them 130% and more!" This concept is definitely out of my comfort zone, but I know I'm going to have to work on it if I want people to have a good experience at my class and come back again.

So yeah, this is definitely a new adventure for me. But 2013 is all about being better than 2012, and I know that Hot Hula fitness will give me that edge. I am excited and nervous and I hope that people who come to my class will benefit from it just as much as I will. So if you're ever in the North Shore area, come February I will start my classes. I don't know where or when yet, but I'll keep you posted.

P.S. Our master trainers told us that Facebook is the most solid method out there to keep in touch with other HHF sisters and events. So....... to my chagrin....... I'm back on FB. (yay.....)