Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Back and Better than Ever

I should probably write some long intro about how I've been MIA lately on this blog, but who even reads blogs anyway. blah blah blah.

I've done stuff, gone places, and now, I give you my FIRST hair tutorial!


Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Work from home

"We can work from home, oh oh, oh oh!"

Who else is still obsessed with that song? Talk about catchy, it's been out for months and still it comes to mind anytime anyone brings up anything about work! 

Currently Emi is asleep and I'm watching the wind blow through the trees outside my bedroom window. The dryer is going in the other room and I just remembered I need to empty and load the dishwasher before I leave this afternoon to have an early dinner with Matt. Life is inexplicably perfect. 

I never planned on this being my life. I was going to be a fashion designer. Then I was going to be an actress. Then, I thought for sure I would be a journalist in a big city wearing tight skirts and tall heels. I was never ever, cross my heart hope to die, going to be a stay at home mom. 

I don't know when or where that spite for not having a career started or stemmed from. Yes, my mom worked but it was a few times a month. She was around. She did carpool and PTA and made us sack lunches. Somewhere, somehow I decided that I was going to be independent and single and successful. Oh young Cami, how selfish and silly you were! Still though, even as I became a Registered Nurse my plan was to work full-time for a few years and then maybe we would talk about kids.  Never in my life plan did I have "Become stay at home mom" written. I didn't even have "Become a mom at 22!" Then real life happened.

I should be honest. I love-ish being a nurse. I get to help people right? Well, kind of. Mostly I just feel nervous that I'm going to accidentally kill someone. It's a high stress job and I don't do stress well. When I was working in Las Vegas I would have panic attacks on Sunday nights. Every single Sunday night for 8 months I would be hit with that chest tightening, mind reeling, heart pounding feeling. No kidding. I''m sure Matt thought I was losing my mind, because I think I kind of was. Those feelings dissipated the longer I worked and more confident that I became, but I still never felt satisfied. I still never came home from work and said, "I love my job and I want to do this for the rest of my life." Usually I would come home and binge-watch Keeping up with the Kardashians or Criminal Minds before heading to bed to start the cycle again. 

Now here I am. I work a few times a month at a job I actually love and the rest of the time I get to hang out with my best little friend. That alone is incredible. But, can I tell you something that's even more, for lack of a better word, amazing? 

Working from home. 
30-60 minutes a day.
Getting paid to improve my health and maybe motivate my friends and family.

Guys, life is perfect. 

Tuesday, July 19, 2016


Being a Beachbody Coach is something that is SO scary to me. I've almost quit 4 times (that I can think of) and I've been on the verge of tears more times than I can count. That's a pretty big deal for me. I'm really not much of a crier when it comes to my personal life--- sad movies, babies, Denzel Washington--- yeah, I cry about that, but not about my own stuff! Anyway, the reason I bring this up is because I want to share with you why I decided to do something that literally scares the crap out of me! Okay, not literally, that's disgusting! But, seriously, why would I do something that pushes me so far out of my comfort zone of Netflix and naps?

For as long as I can remember all that I've wanted to do is make people happy. I know, that sounds so cliche doesn't it? But it's so much more than that! I genuinely, 100 percent want to make people feel happy! I wish I could hand out balloons and suckers to everyone so that no one would feel sad anymore, but that's not real life.

Real life is waking up everyday and not feeling happy with the way you look or the way you feel.
Real life is bingeing on brownies or cupcakes or nachos or whatever because you had a bad day, or a good day, or just a regular, ordinary day!
Real life is just not feeling happy because you don't feel in control of what's going on around you and inside of you!

That was my life for a long time! For so many years I've felt like a victim of my circumstance. My life was dictated by my schooling, my homework, my job. I was a prisoner of my own insecurities! As a high school student it led to a lot of problems that plagued me for more years than I like to admit. That's when I found exercising and eating right. Even in those moments where I felt there was nothing I could do, I knew if I would just go for a run, or do some stretches, or eat some carrots instead of some cookies it would help.

As I slowly took control of what I could and learned to let go of what I couldn't, I found joy. It stuck with me through times of loneliness, a sick husband and a sweet baby that refused to eat or sleep for the 9 months of her life! I was able to find some happiness in the madness. And, I thought maybe I could help someone else find happiness through exercise and eating right, nutrition, and learning what it means to take care of your body. You know, it isn't about losing a certain amount of weight, or being able to fit into a particular size of jeans. It's about being happy with who you are, happy with the way you look and the way you feel and learning to love those bits that maybe aren't "perfect"!

I want to make people feel happy!
I want to give them 'balloons and suckers' through advice and education. I want to help them along this journey to find their own joy and peace and love!

That's what I want. That's what I hope for. That's what I'm excited about. And that's why I'm a coach.

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

21 Day Fix

I've always found it awkward to share my fitness journey publicly. I don't know what it is, but I just feel like it comes off weird. 

I first fell in love with exercising when I was in high school. That is a story, in and of itself, and I won't go into the details now. Back then it was Denise Austin workout videos that my mom had recorded off the TV years before, and yes, it was a total "mom" workout. There was high intensity walking, jazzy music and outfits you could wear for Halloween. So, obviously I LOVED it. When that got boring, though, I took it to the streets. Hardcore, am I right? Actually I started out running around my neighborhood and that slowly progressed to 3 miles then 4 then 5. Running outside turned into running on the treadmill which then transformed into Zumba classes and occasional weight training ( which, let's be real, was mostly me pretending how to use the machines while I talked to my friends). 

When I got to college I tried to keep up with my routine but inclement weather and an overcrowded gym made that hard--- not to mention homework and my futile attempts at a social life. I ended up taking classes through the university and doing YouTube videos. College is weird. Who wants to work out when you can eat pizza with your girlfriends or watch movies with boys. You can probably guess what I chose! 

Through all of this my weight fluctuated. I remember one summer between semesters I would go to the gym for 2 hours a day and I still couldn't drop those 10 pounds I'd found at college. When I got married I had managed to get down to my high school weight but between birth control, our battle with Crohn's disease and jars of the yummiest peanut butter, I gained 10 pounds in a few months. Months, guys! That's a lot of freaking peanut butter! I felt bad. No matter how many kind things Matt said, I knew that if I was going to take control of my life it was up to me and me alone! I remember seeing a friend on Facebook rave about her results with Team Beachbody, but I had more excuses than I could handle and so instead I threw away the peanut butter and started taking care of myself again. 

Fast forward to this year. Somehow after I had Emiline I lost all of my pregnancy weight and then some. I don't know if it was from breastfeeding or magic or what, but despite wearing jeans I never thought I'd fit into, I didn't love the way I looked or the way I felt. Clothes didn't fit me the way I wished they would. My skin was loose and even though I carried around a baby all day I didn't feel strong or empowered; I felt overwhelmed. I discovered Beachbody on Demand and would workout from home as often as I had the energy. Then someone reached out to me and invited me to do a 21 Day Fix Challenge group. I almost said no! I was afraid I would be too weak, too unmotivated, but I was mostly afraid I would fail.  

That's when I came across this quote: 

And so I said yes. 

Now I've finished the 21 days and honestly, I didn't lose any weight and the only inches I lost was 1/2 inch around my waist. But that wasn't what it was about for me. I wanted to feel strong. I wanted to push myself in ways I had never done before. I wanted to reach for the potential that I believed I had inside. My body is sore. I missed brownies and Sodalicious runs and eating whatever the heck I wanted when I wanted. But, Matt tells me I look stronger (and sexier *blush*) and I feel good! I feel happy and accomplished and motivated to do it all over again. 

And that's why I signed up to be a Team Beachbody coach!  

Stay tuned for what's sure to be an adventure. 

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Those Magic Moments

Have you ever been so overwhelmed with words and emotion and happiness that it's practically impossible to say everything you want to say? No? Hmm.. must me a "me " thing!

If you haven't already noticed, I don't usually have a lack of things to say--- something I'm sure I can relate back to all of those long research papers I had to do in high school and college. See! My mind is already running faster than I can catch it. Let me just say this:

Last night we danced around the bedroom like nothing in the world mattered.

Last night we laughed and sang and celebrated.

Last night everything was perfect. 

I don't ever want to forget that. 

(Also, Emi crawled for her first time AND pulled herself up into sitting position!)

Monday, January 25, 2016

Dreaming Dreams

As a vivacious, yet awkward (shocking, I know) 6th grader I had a dream. I was going to be a fashion designer. I could could see it perfectly- me, dressed in layers of the finest fabrics and frosted with glittering jewelry, my hair long and pulled into a tight updo, presenting my renowned designs on the runway to a celebrity-filled room. Then, when I realized I knew nothing of fashion and was still rocking 90s bangs in one perfectly curled roll that dream changed.
I was going to be an actress! Oh man, it was going to be AMAZING! I say that in all caps because that's how convinced I was that A. This dream was going to come true, B. I was going to be marry Orlando Bloom and C. I was going to win an Oscar. 
I kept that dream tucked away for a long time; longer than I like to admit. Even after I recognizing my paralyzing  fear of rejection and total lack of confidence on stage, I quietly hoped that someday I would walk the red carpet. 
Those were the days when nothing was out of reach. No dream was too outrageous, too unrealistic, too far fetched. I could do anything! I could be anyone. Now, here I am, lounging on my couch in my cat pajamas (I'm not lying) and it hits me.
I need a new dream.
12 year old Cami would be devastated if she could see me now. It's not that having day old makeup and baby food on my shirt isn't glamorous, because, I mean come on! I am KILLING this look! I have everything I didn't know I wanted. I have the silliest, sweetest baby doll little girl to pull my hair and kiss my face and a handsome, hardworking student of a husband that makes me laugh everyday (and even laughs at me sometimes)! Life is good. But what's next? What's my dream, my passion, my goal? 

Hello 2016, let's go on and adventure. 

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Finding God in Motherhood

Matt left early to study for finals and Emi's asleep. After yet another night of being up every hour with a screaming baby I find myself too awake to sleep and too tired to be productive. The TV is scrolling through a slideshow of stock photos because I'm too lazy to turn it off and I actually appreciate the calm the nature pictures bring. It makes the room seem alive, even if I feel dead.

I read through some of my old posts a few weeks ago, contemplating whether or not I should start writing on this thing again. One of my favorites, one written out of raw and honest emotion, was about the realities of being a mom.

Emi hadn't slept the night before. Her reflux was bad again and the medicine didn't seem to help. Add one stressed out mom and her first nasty cold and I really wasn't feeling well. I had missed church that morning. Matt took Emi and left me to wallow in bed. Of course, I didn't know I was wallowing at that point. I just felt tired. The kind of tired that you don't just feel but that you are. The tiredness filled my bones and overflowed into my mind. I knew I needed to get up; I needed to go to church. I needed that boost that only comes from sitting in a congregation of friends and strangers and listening to words about Christ. I remember sneaking into the back of the building and sitting on the hard chairs. The goal was to blend in. I kept my eyes down because I knew that anything could trigger a waterfall that I wasn't sure I could stop. I was dangerously emotional. A woman actually came up to me after the meeting and asked if I was new and I lost it! It wasn't just a cry. It was an all out "horse cry". You know, where you start with the staccato breathing, unable to catch your breath so you start making the awful 'ee ee ee hoo" sound and end up with the hiccups. If you don't know what I mean ask me to show you sometime. It's almost as attractive as you're imagining. 

That summer had been difficult.  Unexpected health problems, two back to back surgeries, a thousand miles of travel, and a new baby were making adjusting to our temporary circumstances harder than it should have been. Matt was working long hours at an internship that proved not to pay as much as we were hoping. We were living with my gracious in laws, and despite how wonderful they are it's hard not having your own home.

Those memories are jumbled now. New challenges replace old ones. Happy memories join those that are good. There are still lots of days, though, where motherhood is hard. I was praying the other night and found myself tempted to cry out, "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE!" A ridiculous thought, isn't it? In my shallow self pity and forgot that God has seen it all. He has wept for his Children. He has sorrowed in their misdeeds and I'm sure He too has fallen to his knees in near exhaustion. He gets it. As the realization hit me, my heart softened and I whispered, "Help me."

Being a mom is still hard. It's always going to be hard. "Anything easy isn't worth it." But, I'm not doing it alone. I have to give credit to an incredible husband that loves our little stinkbug more than I thought was possible and helps me get through the long nights and longer days. But, I have someone that is with me always- the perfect parent. He watches, guides, and comforts. Always. And that's pretty great.