Tag: grey hair

I Don’t Wrap and The 35th Anniversary Gift Saga.

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

After thirty-five years together, it is the thought that counts and I tend to spoil. Always. But wrapping is not my thing. I learned long ago, when stores were grand, they wrapped for you. I never looked back. Now, I bag with the best of them, just don’t wrap. Don’t ask. Amazon has wrap service which delights my senses but only sometimes. This maddens me especially when the gifts are for our 35th anniversary. Now, for a non-wrapper my love language is over the top wrapping, because I know you can find good stores, that still wrap. Major hint. I asked my hubs what he wanted because I do survive on a teachers salary, unless I “lift” a credit card and deal with the repercussions. I did that once. I bought a Porsche. Yes, yes I did. We kept it, still have it. Those were the days. As we age my budget became well cut-off.

So, we are building a house. It’s all he wants. Can’t wrap that. Phew. The decor is my gig, modern nautical with island whimsy. What does that mean? I don’t know but it sounds fancy AF. I have been plotting items for two years and I definitely want a bit of old with the new. So I searched for our first two antique pieces to give it the old/new/island vibe. Obviously, pleased with myself, as they sit boxed on our kitchen table, waiting for May 28th, number thrity-five. Not as grand as a sportscar but hopefully the true thought, search, and future memories that will come from the gifts, will be perfect for a major years celebration. One that is filled with much love, patience, and moments of change as we head into our next seasons together forever.

Sixty…The Art of Aging

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

It’s a big number that I am struggling with and dearly holding onto my 50’s like some prized possession. My writing has come to a standstill while pondering life in a new decade. Oh, I am grateful and bring on the years, but this number has stopped me in my tracks. It just sounds old. And it is, truth be told. There is no sugar coating this number, it is not the new anything. Nope. Not. I have tried to spin it and it just sounds like pure denial, and it is. So, I will not sell you on sixty. Can’t. But I have a few thoughts and high priced wisdom to share. Life has taught us to be crazy. If we just step back we realize life is meant to be simple and aging is the high art of simplicity. Being on this planet for ALMOST six decades, at the time of this blog still living my best fifty-nine year old life. Here we go, 1. Don’t give a single thought about anyone’s else’s comments about anything. For example, if you love Bravo, watch it. Just saying, and yes, it feels great to step out of my Bravo guilty pleasure. 2. Everyone should eat well, not diet. Golden wisdom right here. For free. Amazing. 3. Puppies are cute but so was thirty. Beware, drink extra coffee, and buy robotic cleaning everything so you bend far less and enjoy the puppies more. If you do make this leap, and we did, it will change you for the better. 4. Accept yourself or head to a shrink. Or both. 5. Stop trying to cook if you hate it, buy the meal kit, eat out, or throw salads together. Stop pretending that one day you will magically make food that is editable. 6. Keep fitness simple and do what you like. You are not thirty. You are not moving that way again. Just move. 7. Plan retirement but never retire just plan to continue what you love. 8. While the Chanel bag might never be yours, if you do you need one, get it! If not spoil your grandchild. The latter will be beyond any superficial item, so give up the logos. Unless it is a watch. Than go big. Really big. 9. Go to bed early. 10. Get rid of shit. Those CD’s ain’t coming back and remember a life streamlined brings peace and as we age we all need as muc as we can get!

Outschool

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

Picture getting to choose what you want to learn and when you want to learn it. That is the premise of Outschool. I joined a year ago, the same time I joined Varsity Tutors and created Mrs. Livingston’s World, my educational tutoring mini-company. A year later I am finally creating, writing, and hopefully driving students to my eventual successful educational business. Finally. Yesterday, I created my first Outschool class and actively took Varsity Tutors seriously. So, why now? The fear of boredom within my eventual retirement from the classroom. So, in essence building for my future. I have five or six years. 😅

My classes will revolve around writing. For the next three weeks, join me as I take the basic Jane Schaffer model of writing and make it friendly. I want students, that usually have tears when facing the task of paragraph creation, walk away with skills and no more tears. Below is my link to join a class and $20.00 off your first class!

https://outschool.com/classes/no-more-tears-lets-create-the-perfect-paragraph-dAi7MZrZ?sectionUid=c351eee5-ebcb-42a9-9593-03b08fe6d29d&usid=mfwHk9Kz&signup=true&utm_campaign=share_activity_link

I Fear Retirement

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

Spring Break brings me a sense of peace, quiet, and the organization and rotation of clothes (love a good closet), and silence. This brings me joy, a needed recharge, and since I am nearing the end of my career, it causes me great concern as to what’s in my future retirement plans. Long ago, in my fantasy phase, We would hop on a cruise and do the world. Yes, with the hubs. “We” would go from port to port in utter class and see the world. I priced that. Not happening. But a yearly big trip can be organized and afforded. Yes, it can. One trip a year. Just one. A cruise maybe two, Denmark, Ireland, Fiji, Australia, Philippines, Japan, Germany. Italy, and a revisit to France and England. I love to go see, go explore, and go experience other cultures. So does the hubs, he just does not like the planning or spending. But we deserve a yearly exploration. Well, that is two weeks out of the year including packing. Now what. Truly, I draw a blank. Golf? Bad back. But I do like the fact that it takes all day. Again, bad back. Not an option. Besides, had a tantrum on a course with the hubs and picked up the ball, clubs, and chucked them. They did not go far. But it felt good. We went home, clubs in tow. My hubs won’t golf with me anymore.

Volunteering. Possible but when I cross the finish line of teaching, my giving myself for free, is over. But it’s not out of my possible options. Not sure who wants a retired teacher but someone might, or in reality, I might need them more. The fear of boredom is quite real and with golf out, traveling limited, grocery shopping with my husband out, way out. Have you seen those cute couples who banter about what cut of beef they want and actually enjoy the grocery experience? We are not them.

We are building a dream home up north and have another down south. Very south. Will we spend time there? Yes. But both places are in gorgeous areas with an abundance of quiet. I like a balance. Less and less as the years go on, but purpose and a little noise in life is needed. Teach online? Get my restorative yoga certification, open a Montessori school or a yoga studio in Neebish Island? Just continue my essays and complete the book? Or just waking up everyday to a new adventure and let the day unfold…Nah. structure is needed. Heck, I even ask to go to the bathroom and always will, so while retirement scares me the options are amazing.

Intermittent Fasting Continues

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

It’s been approximately a month. I have had my good girl and bad girl moments. During this time I knew I needed more guidance. I have found the holy grail for menopause mama’s and rid myself of all the other weight loss noises in my life. Good-bye Weight Watchers, good-bye Noom, again and the Carb manager app I was using as I tried to rid myself of all things good, while fasting. All at once. I went deep and fast. That never works. It didn’t.

But I am back. A new sensation on this tenth day that will not leave me is hunger. Not just in the morning but throughout the day. All my deep dives give the same song and dance, allow me to paraphrase the countless holes of information that gave me a ray of hope and more hunger. Don’t quit, you will get used to it, only two to four weeks and it is just another daily skill, and the worst, some have no hunger after two days. Who are you? We must meet so you can share your recipes. But not quitting. Not this time. What’s three more weeks of feeling hungry, grumpy, and tired if on the otherside is my menopause mama holy grail to weight loss and health.

The changes I have made are drastic, although I sneak a carb now and then. I am sugar and almost carb free, my calories are low and my overall carb intake in in range of Keto. My vitamin intake is huge and have added juice shots for added benefits. I am all in and I feel accomplished. My steps have risen and I am closing in on 300 rides. My mind is clear. A big step and I have a bit more energy. A bit. But I am hungry. But my clothes feel better. But I am hungry. So, wjile no drastic scale changes, I feel but better. That’s enough. For now, it is alot.

My new lifestyle guru, the creator of the Galvaston diet, and some great products.

https://galvestondiet.com/

https://www.kevita.com/products/sparkling-probiotic-drink/

https://www.walmart.com/browse/health/immunity-boosters-shots/976760_1544540_8925996

https://310nutrition.com/blogs/all/vanilla-almond-protein-shake

https://whisps.com/

The Suit

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

Water is not my thing, even as a child. Ironically, I grew up in a desert with a pool in every home. My fear is directly due to the many drowning reports on the nightly news. The newscasters believe they are doing a service (and they are) but after fifty years of hearing the scary statistics, the only service they did for me was don’t get in the water, no matter how bloody hot you feel, at this moment. I can swim. Yes. The local nightly news taught me I had to learn. So I did. But as the years passed I became a pool lounger at an expert level. Dip a toe. Saunter to the chair. Order a drink, and repeat. The view brings me great peace as does the hotel service and bubbly. Oddly, I love to sail and passed my initial certification, but I don’t plan on captaining a boat. I am a lounger with an occasional standing moment at the helm and a bit of the bubbly. The boating love came after convincing myself that I am not in the water and technically I am correct. Being in requires a bathing suit or the current choices of ether small squares of material or big dresses that my grandmother wore when I grew up, which I can’t accept and thus going in the water or even pool lounging has been a big NO for years. Menopause has changed my overall look without my changing my diet or exercise. I could exist on air and I would still have rolls upon rolls in areas that were once flat.  So a bathing suit, has not been on my body, for a very long time. Through the years of heat, mental fog aka the beginning of this stage that never ends, I coped. I hid. I survived. Just a phase. We traveled in the winter to non-beachy areas. Accidental but freeing. London in November. Gorgeous rain and cold. Thankfully this meant turtlenecks, sensible pants, boots, large coats, and scarves. Turkey, obviously covered. In Paris, I was so busy looking Parisian and seeing everything that I could, no suit was necessary. I could hide my changes and frankly just accepted my new life. The last time I wore a suit in public, was twenty years ago in Spain, and twenty pounds ago. The hormonal overdrive phase of life has hit. I will be sixty in six weeks. Which should explain everything without getting technical. My acceptance of a new life stage has now turned to frustration and a daily dose of exasperation in the dressing moments. My body screams practical pull-ons and tunics and my head says hell no. Not yet or ever. Truth be told I have a few outfits that fit this category. They make me happy, in a comfortable way, but they always remind me of my grandmothers polyester granimals that fit her every physical need and frankly she always looked great, but I am not ready. The sixty year old woman does not really fit anywhere in the mainstream fashion industry. But we are having our moments in chain boutique shopping experiences, and while some great stuff can be found, we all come out looking the same which alerts others to the questioning of our desire for the AARP discount of the day. I digress. Back to the newest stressor. The need for a suit.

I am taking my grandnugget to a water park. Yes, not just a pool, but a park of people all in drippy stages of dress or undress with slides, arcades, and characters roaming the property. The nugget has been taking lessons and this is my treat. Now, this grandparent will do anything, but my hubs won’t. He won’t do the character related themed areas and this park fits that category. However, he has committed to Lego Land. It’s a lego thing for him. So that is a go. Disney. That’s on me, but I have a plan. We just don’t mention it until he is at least five years of age, maybe six. Back to the drippy park. After my commitment to what will be a great day. I went through my suits. I have two. Both seem small and lack the fabric I desire. All I can imagine is my very white body shuffling from one area to the next while toting all our necessities. In the pool bag, gone long ago. Luckily they are fancy neoprene now with stylish colors and options. This I can get into but the suit. Nope.

Thankfully, I love to research, and if beach bags have gone all neoprene like and fancy, perhaps the suit has more options than small triangles or massive printed dresses. Why loud prints? Is the dress not bold enough? A man must have created this horror with the mindset of, it will be easy to spot grandma in this checkered number. Within minutes of googling conservative suits, nicer than menopausal mama, I came upon a new trend, swimming leggings. Yup. They are made out of special material that dries quickly just like a regular suit with the special plus of covering, squeezing, and looking relatively sleek. Obviously, this is not a look for the lounging tanner. This legging idea (came through the swimming community) is practical for the swimming grandma desiring to swim with grandchildren and fighting the midst of unwanted body transformations. Rather than, running away from the day, or feeling less than in front of the skinny set or anyone under fourty. It will allow me to feel confident as I stroll the park without being worried about my size and the suit. That’s priceless.

Lands End seems to have the best choices, but also Target, Amazon, and even Walmart are in the game. Note: this is a non-sponsored post.

https://www.landsend.com/shop/womens-swim-shorts-leggings-swimsuit-cover-ups-swimsuits/S-xfh-xez-y5c-xhf-y9k-xec

Almost A New Zero…

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

My next zero is big. Very. I am the second oldest on my campus. That’s weird. Half of my brain misses my grandson to the point of wanting to retire and move closer now. The hubs can come later. The other side of my brain realizes a proper retirement is important. I fear illness, death, and being without my bestfriend. Note: I am healthy and he is sitting next to me, but you get it. If you do not, you are in the wrong age category. I am not done. My kid still needs my direction. I need to see his completeness. I need to see so much of my nugget and their life together. My drive for health works 2/3 rds of the day, but on a daily basis. Winning. My worst part of the day or week, the weekend. That drink looks great, unhealthy food can be split at restaurants making it ok, right? A few crackers. Ok. Too much sleep after getting the house in shape for the next week. Yikes.

For all those with cleaning help, I truly am jealous, and even if I don’t know you. I hate you. My body, my back, and the arthritis in my hands has earned you. My teachers paycheck. Nope. But my 2/3rds is taking me in the right direction. Losing weight, moving and not re-injuring, and going as carb and sugar-free as life is meant to be. I am proud and still going in the right direction in the best possible way, I think my habits, hard fought for, are necessary and now easy. Sans the weekends as my recovery mode from the week and house stuff makes eating more of a feel good rather than an eat good. The step of recognition is huge and shows that my evening work of building good habits will transfer to the weekends, as the first step was recognition. The second desire, that zero, and the third seeing life in general with a skip in my step.

Gotta couple months left. I am ok with comfy shoes, a few Chico outfits as they cover certain areas well, just not all my outfits. Thank you. Ok, with getting stronger everyday and being able to take a minute just to rest to gain strength for my week in the trenches. Valentine’s Day, with 7th grade, is on its way and that is truly like all holidays rolled into one! But still not ok with saying the new number. It’s big. Gonna start now perhaps it will be a bit easier as the clock sticks the witching hour on my day.

Alternate Image

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

We have mental images of ourselves. I am skinnier. This of course is odd. Most have the inner picture of our bodies as larger. Some all over. Some in certain places. But larger. I think smaller in an overall general body image, until I found a mirror on a bad day in workout gear. That is a picture no one needs to see, especially the owner of this body. Nope. I kept looking unable to see me, just a foreign old lady that was anyone but me on any given day. I wanted to run and hid but instead I realized the true power of the before picture.

Now, my fantasy ideal of the skinny me has been replaced by reality, which I am now painting a tad worse in my minds eye. But it is the picture in my weary old head that now keeps me motivated to stay on points, fast, drink lemon water, and detox with hibiscus tea and get on my bike. I notice about three ounces gone…but I continue as fat was not built in a day, and overall health is the goal. Not a size. But surely not the old hag in the mirror. Somewhere in between, with my continued motivation I will succeed not only in health but coming to grips with 60 and the obvious changes it brings, even to those of great beauty. We all suffer a bit. It shows physically but we really are dealing with the mental struggle of age compounded with a bit of extra skin.

With each new day. on this journey, I say positive affirmations, pray, and look at myself in a new way. I see the changes. Others will as well, but at three or four ounces of loss, I understand their difficulties. Now, my change is just for me and my pride. Others may just see my acceptance and glow of growing health, and that might be the best gift. Along with twenty pounds.

The Many Faces of 58…

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

This year I struggled with a number. It is my beginning to a new decade. I took less pictures. I thought way too much about my looks. And probably smiled less. However, my smile quota is higher than the average persons smile quota. But less is less. I am a happy person but the number 58 brought me down. So, with a new year and an honest discussion on aging, with a friend. I realized how stupid I sound about this wrinkly stuff. So, eff 58, 59, 60, and beyond. I finally am ok with my age. Took me long enough. As you read this don’t do what I did. Embrace your age. Now. Don’t hide or shoot botulism into your face. Or do the biggie. You know. The lift. To be honest, I would do my neck. But turtlenecks and scarves work. A bit. Frankly, I am just scared. So natural it is. Back to you…Just accept, age naturally, and move on. Even in a world where everyone looks fake, filtered, and frankly perfect on social media. Keep it real. Now, during this process of accepting your number, social media will screw with your reality and the acceptance of your aging process. Hang in there. It is akin to growing out your grey hair. The mess passes into silver wonder. Trust me.

Really, trust me on the grey stuff!

She’s That Kind of Crazy…

Posted on by Tracy Livingston M.Ed.

Being a grandmother is a gift. It is one that some open with trepidation and the acceptance of one’s age. Some spend months deciding on what to be called. Like that matters, but it does allow the transitioning into our new role. The day, our nugget was born, I was in a parade. I was in the midst of royal waves for miles with a bit of Vaseline on the teeth, to hold my fading smile. But this additional news brought a feeling that I had lost. Pure joy. I had not felt this for years. It brought me back to all the good times as a parent multiplied by a bazillion. No Vaseline needed.

Initially, I tried to be the low-key grandma. That did not last. I craved that smile and inner light this person brought to my life. It was akin to reliving my own sons great days without any of the traditional raising stressors. I could just sit on the floor and play, stare, laugh. No need to cook, clean, work, etc. All attention on one human. Pure delight. At least for me. Not all grandma’s are alike…some even allow themselves to live out of the state of their nuggets. How, I do not know. I would sell my soul to live near mine, much to my sons chagrin.

I am over the top. I am one of those. Not low-key. Whatsoever. The family is getting used to my craziness. As a result when I suggest the the nugget and I dress as elves for a school event. No one bats an eye. At least in front of me. When I suggest we go take the nugget on a European cruise for my 60th (ouch) in 🇫🇷 so we can do everything together. They took it well as I threw in Euro Disney for entertainment and if they were tired, I offered to do the entire park without them. They rallied. Eyes stopped rolling. Craziness back in check. When Christmas rolls around and well, you know…they put up with it and I just glow. My inner kid is fulfilled.

We live 90 minutes away. Too far. I am ready to move. Have dinner weekly and go to every game/concert/play etc that he participates in during his school years. I will be that one in the crowd just glowing with pride not only for the nugget but for the kid I raised, who gave me the initial gift of motherhood, and my pure happiness and fulfillment of life.