Anouchka Talks

Well, there's no denying it: I've been slacking.  But, to quote myself, " This blog is basically a diary that you are allowed to read; I make entries whenever I feel like it".  So I'm not apologizing. That being said, I'll simply address the giant elephant in the room and answer your burning question.  Where have you been for the past five months?   Slow down, please.  One at a time.  I'll get to it, young Padawan.  Here, in a kind of particular order, is what I have been doing since August... August Habibi and I celebrated our tenth anniversary (early - we were actually married in October) with a trip to Destin, Florida.  We wanted to travel before school started to avoid having to arrange drop-off/pick-up with the grandparents.  Anyway, it was a baller trip.  All we did was sit on the beach and I made Habibi a sand gator as an anniversary gift because I am awesome.  Jammy started kindergarten and I started loathing the Ameri...

I recently hung out with my Mama Role Model.  This is a woman who embodies everything I want to be as a wife and mother.  I have never seen her lose her temper, even when her kids "misbehave" (mild episodes to most of us mortals).  Her kids are darling, always so well put together, watch very little TV, and they have been brilliant sleepers since birth.  She has an immaculate home that is not only functional, but beautiful.  Plus it smells nice because she bakes delicious things in her modern kitchen.  She is so effing hospitable.  I have never once heard this woman swear, seen her get food stuck in her teeth, pick her nose, scratch her butt, or smell her armpits in public.  (I regularly do most  all of these things.)  On top of it all, she always looks so beautiful.  Her hair is like Pocahontas's.  She is never late for stuff.  She eats fruit for dessert.  I don't think she even sweats. My friend, waking up in t...

DISCLAIMER:  This post is full of TMI and graphic descriptions.  If you are uncomfortable with either of these, please stop reading now, amateur. "How are you feeling?" asked the nurse as she strapped the blood pressure cuff to my arm. "Like shit," I replied, not meaning to startle her with my perhaps too direct response. Perhaps both of you recall my past complaints about my postpartum body ( here  and here ).  Long story short, I was apparently never made to carry babies, nor to deliver them.  Of course of all the women in the world who want to be mamas, I am probably one of the better ones to be blessed/cursed with this issue.  I never felt the need  to carry my own children for nine months; I was fine with "outsourcing" it.  Ever since I learned about adoption as a little kid, I knew it was something I wanted to do, regardless of whether or not I was able to have children myself.  In fact, I hated being pregnant, and still have no ...

Please forgive me for moaning and groaning...yet again. As many of you know, I have recently experienced a few physical health issues over the past couple of years that have really set me back.  Between baffling patellofemoral pain syndrome and severe diastasis recti , I feel that I have had my share of ailments that, two short years ago, I had never even heard of. Last month marked the latest chapter in my PFPS saga:  I finally broke down and went to an orthopedist.  After over a year of bilateral knee pain, I'd had enough: I had been to my family physician (who also happens to specialize in sports medicine), an osteopathic specialist, two physical therapists, and consulted with an athletic trainer (whose services I could not afford out-of-pocket - thousands of dollars, just when I learned that I was knocked up). I religiously performed multiple sets and reps of every exercise they recommended:  inner thigh, outer thigh, quads, hips, glutes...only to be inf...

Hulk is a pretty good sleeper.  She typically goes anywhere from five to eight hours a night before waking up for a midnight snack, a snuggle and going back to bed in her crib.  It wasn't always this way (as any parent of a newborn can recall), but with lots of dedicated effort, patience, and love, we made it to this point. Spending every day for the past three months with my little nugget has brought me two things:  great joy and unending headaches (more metaphorical, although there is the occasional literal  headache).  Just now, I had to let her fuss herself to sleep for a nap (note that she did not cry  it out - those were not sobs, but rather barks of protest) but I will be rewarded with the most beautiful grin when it is time for her to wake up. Perhaps one of the most frustrating lessons I have learned in becoming an Ummi is the crisis of the postpartum body.  I have already whined and moaned about my deformed midsection so I won't continue...

On January 7, 2014, my life changed forever when Habibi and I welcomed our baby Hulk into the world.  After three months of violent "all day" sickness, six additional months of a low-risk-but-high-intensity pregnancy, about 22 hours of labor, four hours of pushing (at least two and a half to three of which involved crowning), a third degree "starburst" tear, and one operation later, I was finally able to hold my wiggly little girl. I worked hard to earn the title of "ummi." As I was going through pregnancy, labor and delivery, and the subsequent postpartum period, I didn't realize that my experience was unusual; I simply thought that everything I went through was standard procedure.  It wasn't until later on when my somewhat befuddled doctor informed me that I ended up having more sutures "down there" than I would have had I opted for a voluntary c-section, or that most women don't push for four hours and tear that bad, or that m...

On November 19, 2012 I sustained a running injury that has benched me for an entire year.  After running my usual route for (at least!) the bazillionth time, my right knee painfully protested even one more step.  My left knee shortly followed suit and, since that time, I have been condemned to the stationary bike. Oh, the shame of pedaling and pedaling and never getting anywhere. As November 19 rolls around this year, I find myself reflecting on the one year anniversary of my running tragedy.  After insisting on working my body to the breaking point for the three months following my injury, I felt that God was nudging me to stop obsessing over working out so that I could focus on some other areas of my life that needed work.  No longer was I to obsess over food (well, I still do, but not to the same radical degree as before) or the number of calories burned on a 13-mile run (over a day's worth - think of the pancakes I could eat with a day's worth of calories!!!...

Today is a sad day at Anouchka Talks .  Exactly six months ago, on November 19, was the last day I was able to run.  While I have seen some improvements since that time, I am still unable to train for any sort of competitive running.  Furthermore, my cardiovascular stamina has greatly suffered -as most aerobic activity has been aggravating on my knees- and I feel like I will have to start from before  the proverbial "square one." It has been a frustrating and downright depressing journey.  After stumping various specialists on the subject, I am at somewhat of a loss myself.  Last spring, I could happily pound the pavement for miles.  Now, sometimes I feel a painful CRUNCH in my knees just squatting down to tie my shoes.  I can't seem to wrap my mind around that... "I am a cipher, a cipher wrapped in an enigma, smothered in secret sauce."* Thank you, Jimmy James. Sorry to be a whiny complainer.  I don't want to be like one of th...

I want to rant and rave about my injury frustrations.  As the merry days of spring and extended sunlight brighten the northern hemisphere with cheer, I find myself wanting to bang my head against the wall until my body will cooperate with my mind. I know.  Effective. If you will recall one of my more recent posts about running, I had a few hypothetical diagnoses.  Turns out, I was right on the mark with Option #1:  Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome (PFPS, a.k.a. "runner's knee").  Basically, this injury involves a knee cap ("patella") that doesn't track properly in the "patellofemoral groove," which is the space between the knobs ("condyles") on your thigh bone ("femur").  What happens as a result is a painful grinding of bone on bone (patella on condyle).  PFPS is a treatable injury but, as with all running-related injuries, it takes time.  And sometimes, that "time" is indefinite. %#*^!#$%!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So, ...

I like running.  I like being active.  In general, I like motion.  Sadly, many things that allow me to be kinetic are currently off limits. If you have kept up with any of my running/fitness posts, you will know that last September -one week before my half marathon- I had a case of peroneal tendinitis.  I felt like Chris Traeger from Parks and Recreation .  It sucked, BUT God is good and allowed me to run the race all the same.  (Not only did I get to run, but I set a new record time for myself AND got to go out for my favorite pancakes afterwards!  It was one of the best days of my life.) After the race, I took a little time away from the pavement and spent a little more time revisiting some of my other favorite fitness activities that had been cast aside during training:  weight lifting (baby weights, mind you), kickboxing, dancing, etc.  I would still go out for a light jog every now and again, but only at leisurely paces and nothing ...

I had pancakes today, but not just any pancakes.  Today, my darlings, I had my most favorite of all time pancakes.  These bad boys aren't for amateurs though, so if you don't like pancakes (hater), then please stop reading. And never speak to me again. No, for real though.  I had the bestest granola pancakes in the whole wide world that come from the most fat-/sugar coma-inducing factory in town:  a little brunchery called Le Peep. Easily, one of these pancakes is over five billion calories but, when you get them as your meal, you get TWO steering-wheel sized flapjacks of joy.  Seriously, these 'cakes will change your life.  I truly believe that they hold the key to world peace. But why all this writing about pancakes lately?  I mean, they're gifts from Heaven, but isn't this a bit much? No. But I digress.  Today I ran my first half marathon.  I have been training for this bad boy since the beginning of July and have (not) loved ...

Well, bad news, my little chickadees. Both of you know that I have been training for about two and a half months for a half marathon.  Although I'm not new  to running, this is my first half.  Naturally, I have been hyped up ever since I officially registered for the pre-race spaghetti dinner.  (I mean really, that's why we do it.  Right?)  Anyhow, during my training time, I have seen myself progress to levels of speed and stamina that I never thought I could attain.  This all culminated in my final (and most recent) distance run last week. On Friday morning, my training guide had me scheduled to run 13 miles. Prior to that, I had run 12, so it wasn't as though I made a sudden leap in effort; I had been building up to this.  As I wrapped up the final mile and climbed the stairs to my apartment, I felt a sense of relief.  The hard part was behind me; only a few taper runs and the race lay ahead.  I looked down at my watch and was ecs...