Workout Motivation Throw Pillows

I was recently inspired to create a collection of typography pillows with motivational quotes targeted  towards the health and fitness crowd. The series was created for athletes and people who make health and wellness and going to the gym a priority.

Truth be told, I designed these inspirational pillows for myself. I needed a good, old-fashioned talking to and organizing and creating these pillows did the trick. For some reason, I had fallen off the workout wagon. My motivation lagged and I couldn't seem to get back in gear but doing this project lit a fire under my, well, it got me jacked up to hit it hard.

Today is a New Beginning

Whether you are a runner, swimmer, cyclist, triathlete, weightlifter, cross trainer or a Zumba enthusiast, my hope is that these typography motivational pillows will inspire you every time you see them. Also, these would also make a great gift for anyone who is looking to put more focus on their health and more effort into their workouts.      

You can easily change the background color to match a specific decor. If you’d like the typography to be another color or a different font, feel free to contact me either here or via the “ask the designer” link on the product page. Now, stop reading this and hit the gym. :-)

Better Sore than Sorry

No Excuses

Every Damn Day

I Will Not Be Stopped

Click the pillow for buying information and pricing. Click here to see the entire collection of motivational typography pillows. 

Thanks for taking a look.

 

I Am a Child of Wonderful Parents

I am from what the media calls a traditional family. My brother, sister and I grew up in a loving and humble household with both of our biological parents. Our wonderful biological parents. 

According to the Washington Times, families consisting of a married couple with children under age 18--traditional families--have not been in the majority since 1967, but we never knew that.

Mom & Dad, back in the day

Giant bonus points for the fact that my parents are open-minded and all-inclusive. We mixed it up with every type of person, every type of family unit. We hosted foreign exchange students from various countries. When kids weren't getting along with their own parents, they’d crash with us until the storm blew over. Our house was the holiday go-to place for people who didn’t have anywhere else to go. Our doors were open to anyone at any time.  My parents always had food, jokes, an empathetic ear, a warm make-shift bed or a funny story to share with whomever needed it. We never gave any thought to differences, to privilege, to haves and have-nots. We were blissfully unaware.

I don't mean to give the impression that it was all Ozzy and Harriet at our house, it wasn't. My siblings and I gave my parents plenty of trouble growing up. We're all strong-minded, opinionated and curious. It couldn't have been easy for them. Still, they doled out the right amount of discipline mixed with respect and love. We always knew they were in charge.     

Mom & Dad now

It’s only when I went away to college that I realized how different my parents were, that we were in the minority. We still are; my mom and dad recently celebrated their 62st anniversary. 

My brother and sister are both happily married with families of their own, doing their part to keep the traditional family going. 

Even though we've scattered, we take every opportunity to congregate as a family unit. We do it out of love and also out of fun. We genuinely have fun together. Loud, raucous, unrestrained fun. Those of you who know us *in real life* could probably tell some tales! 

Yep, I am a child of wonderful parents.

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This post is in participation with the Group Blogging Experience, and this week’s prompt is children and/or parent(s).  If you want to blog with us, go to the GBE2 Facebook page and request to join the group. Everyone is welcome.

Happy Birthday to Me

I had a birthday. It was a good one.

Last year on my birthday, I helped my best friend bury her husband--who was also a dear friend of mine. It was a tragic, heartbreaking day.

This year my husband made sure the day was special. During breakfast, he announced he was taking the day off so we could do anything I wanted to. It was my day.

We went to all my favorite places and did all my favorite things. We had a blast. All through the day, he had small gifts planted in unusual places. 

My guy is not Lance Romance, mind you. He's not the guy that plans extravagant galas to celebrate my birth (or our anniversary or anything else for that matter). But it's the little things that make my heart go pitter-pat; our desire to spend unplanned time together, to spontaneously see where the day takes us, to simply enjoy each other's company.

It's the joy I see in his face when he knows he's making me happy. And he knows how to make me happy.

Wine + chocolate + nuts + candles + a Stephen King book  = a great birthday. Thanks, baby.

The Bittersweet Vacation

Today is the last day of our annual beach vacation. It’s a once-per-year tradition that I cherish. My extended family is a riot and we don’t spend enough time together.

The reason it’s been a bittersweet vacation is because my mom’s sister—my sweet Aunt Dot—passed away during the week. Mom would not leave Aunt Dot’s side so she didn’t start the vacation with us, which seemed odd. Our annual family congregation is the high-water mark of Mom’s year; she says she’s never happier than when all her chickens are under one roof.

It was weird, being at the beach trying to have fun while Aunt Dot was suffering and Mom was with her. Yet Mom insisted we continue with the annual pilgrimage. She insisted we come to the beach and make merry. She didn’t want to let anyone down, especially her grand-kids, so we came without her.

After 2 days, Aunt Dot died. My brother, my sister and I made the car ride from the beach to her funeral. Anticipating this possibility, we had tucked funeral clothes into our bags, right next to our bathing suits and beach towels.

The drive to the funeral is the only time I can remember being alone with my siblings, just the 3 of us, as adults. It was a special time, which added to the complexity of contradicting emotions.

Once we arrived at Aunt Dot and Uncle Jerry’s house, we were greeted by distant relatives that we only see at weddings and funerals. I know that’s fairly typical of big families but it would be nice to see them more often.

After the funeral, visitation and family gathering, the sibs and I made a late night road trip back to the beach. Mom and Dad joined us the next day, so by Wednesday we were all together.

I’m waxing nostalgic because that’s how I feel. It was a wonderful and sad and hilarious and frenetic and heartwarming and heartbreaking week.

We’re already planning next year.   

Waiting on Death, Celebrating Life

My instincts tell me not to write this. I don't want to be maudlin nor do I want to appear insensitive but we are waiting on death. My Aunt Dot is dying; her transition will be any day now. She has squared off with the monster for the last time, and now she is going to a place where there is no indignity or pain. 

She has buried two of her own children. Now it is her turn. 

In one of our many frank discussions, I asked Aunt Dot if she thought she would see her kids or my grandparents (her parents) when she died. She said she's not sure but she hopes so. We speculated about that possibility, and what the Bible says about dying. We talked about God and Heaven. She told me that if she does get to see and recognize people up there, she'll find a way to let me know. She said she would send me a sign and I would know what it was about.    

The spunk this resilient lady displayed throughout her life is inspirational. Her matter-of-fact way of living, and now dying, is uniquely Aunt Dot.

Joyously, our family got together to celebrate her 80^th birthday recently. 

I will not be able to write about her again, not anytime soon. My heart is heavy. Waiting on death is a terrible thing. Instead, we will celebrate her life--now and always.

Aunt Dot recently became a great-grandmother. The circle of life.

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This post is in participation with the Group Blogging Experience, and this week’s prompt is instinct. This is the best I could do under the circumstances. If you want to blog with us, go to the GBE2 Facebook page and request to join the group. Everyone is welcome.

My Favorite Thing About Summer: Our Family Beach Vacation

Every summer our extended family gets together for a full week at the beach. We’ve been doing this for the past decade and it’s my favorite thing about this time of year.

We’re a tight-knit clan but live in different towns and have big, full lives. So other than a quick, drive-by pre-Christmas gathering (all the kids have to sleep in their own beds on Christmas Eve so Santa Clause knows where to find them) and the occasional wedding or funeral, the annual beach pilgrimage is our only time together as an entire unit.

I love this vacation because there is no agenda, no schedule. We all just hang out for a week. We are a loud and boisterous family so there is plenty of entertainment. We’re an active family too, so there’s always somebody to swim or walk or fish or ride bikes with. And we’re a family that values conversation, so there is always an (over?) abundance of talking.

The kids are becoming little people. My brother and SIL have a 7 and an 11 year old. My sister and BIL have a 2, 7 and 11 year old. Add mom and dad and me and EC to the mix and there are 13 of us in total. That’s a house full of loud people. We love it.

There’s much I could write about this annual beach vacation and still never capture the joy of the togetherness. I don’t have the talent or the time to do it justice.

What I do have is a hope. I hope we continue to rearrange our real-life schedules and make the personal sacrifices required to allow the family beach vacations to continue. I hope we are all willing and able to spend one week together as an extended family for as long as possible.

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This post is in participation with the Group Blogging Experience, and this week’s prompt is summer and/or my favorite thing. I combined the two. If you want to blog with us, go to the GBE2 Facebook page and request to join the group. Everyone is welcome.

Aunt Dot, the Warrior

My sweet Aunt Dot turned 80 years old yesterday. The entire family congregated for her birthday. See, this will probably be Aunt Dot's last birthday. She was recently diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer. It's also in her spine, ribs and even a spot on her liver.

Aunt Dot knew she had cancer; she claims to know what cancer feels like. If anybody would know what cancer feels like, it would be Aunt Dot. In her 80 years, she has successfully battled the dreadful disease 3 other times. This is her 4th time in the ring with this monster.

Every time cancer came knocking, it wore a new disguise. First it came in the form of breast cancer.  A radical double mastectomy is hard on a 20-something gal but she's a fighter and came out on top. Cancer free for over 10 years, the insidious beast came slinking back in the form of throat cancer. Evil but curable,  Aunt Dot won. Many years later, uterine cancer came for a visit. It didn't stay around long. Aunt Dot, the 95 pound warrior, fought back hard.

Cancer free for over 15 years, her life took on a slow and satisfied pace. Things were good. And now, here it is again. It makes me sad that cancer is going to be what gets Aunt Dot. It seems cruelly unfair.

This is what sweet, brave Aunt Dot says about it:

I'm not afraid to die. I've had a long and happy life. How long do you expect me to live, Langley? If it's not cancer, it'll be something else. Something else soon. Everybody is going to die and I'm not afraid. I just don't want to hurt. Now let's have some fun.

So really, cancer is not winning. Aunt Dot is the ultimate winner. Her final days will be filled with love, family and friends.

Her positive outlook and plucky attitude make an indelible impression on everyone she knows. She is an inspiration. Yes, Aunt Dot will live on in our hearts and our memories for as long as we breathe.