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The Sarahs tell it like it is, sharing the salty + sweet, big city + small town, ups + downs, the pretty + not so much of modern motherhood. 


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50 Shades of Gray (Hair)

Now that I’m in my 30s and (gasp!) graying, I’m starting to have empathy for the vanity-obsessed Queen of Snow White. Clearly, I wouldn’t go to crazy lengths and kill someone just to be considered the fairest of them all. There’s no point. All I have to do is drive up the street to the nearest Beverly Hills plastic surgeon or cosmetic dermatologist for a shot of the Fountain of Youth. I kid, I kid.  But—and I think you’d agree, or at least pretend you do for my sake—what a cruel trick the aging gods play when they bless curse me with the monthly acne of an adolescent along with the wiry white wisps more fitting for a villainous witch.

It’s funny. I’m really not a witch. I’m really not that vain (emphasis added because I occasionally put effort into getting dressed up). And I’m really low maintenance. Even my husband, who takes longer to get ready than I do, would back this up as fact, not fiction. However, there’s something about gray hair that makes my nose immediately crinkle.

The hair texture is gnarly. It grows wild. And it admittedly makes me worry. Men look distinguished. That’s why George Clooney is almost every woman’s fantasy. And women look, well, aged tired less youthful. There, I said it. I don’t want to look old…yet.

Here’s why:

Gray hair suggests that I should have the this parenting gig figured out. I certainly don’t and would hate if people thought me wise.

Gray hair suggests that I live with 100s of cats. And I hate cats.

Gray hair suggests that I could be a punk or hipster. I’m neither ‘cause I’m not nearly cool enough to rock those looks. 

Gray hair suggests that I’m stressed. Well, this might actually be true. Sleep might help here.

Gray hair suggests that I'm 100% secure in my looks. I’m not. Perhaps someday, but I still have some maturing and perspective-gaining to do. Until then…

I pluck one. Then another. And, @$*%!, a few more. Since when do gray hairs multiply like rabbits?! I already have enough on my plate with battling the persistent (permanent?) dark circles of motherhood under my eyes. 

~ The Other Sarah


{Featured Friday Review & Giveaway} Open Sky Fitness Lunch Crunch Workout

Two years after having a baby and I'm still not 100% satisfied with the state (or shape) of my body. In fact, I've actually put on weight since my nursing days when I was (hooray!) back in my college-sized pants. But, damn, that was short-lived because my active days at the park were exchanged for sedentary hours in front of the computer when my son started preschool and I resumed work. And although I'm not eating poorly, the sit-and-sit-some-more lifestyle is killing my middle and energy. I feel squishy and sluggish.

So, to my own surprise, I took Rob Dionne up on his offer to attend his "Lunch Crunch" boot camp class at Opensky Fitness. I am not sure what compelled me to do so because I hate running when it's not part of a sports game, I hate people yelling at me as a form of motivation, and I generally dislike working outside when it's going to be hot (I'm a yogi, not a marathoner). But, and it must've been a big BUT, my body told me it needed to try something different. Thus, I found myself at the La Brea Tar Pits prepared to die from being out. of. shape. 

Well, I survived (thankfully) and lived to tell about it. First, my preconceived notions about Rob's boot camp classes were all VERY WRONG. The Lunch Crunch course was anything but intimidating. Sure it was very challenging and worked me to my core (and there were bits of that dreaded running), but never did I feel silly or out of place due to my fitness level and rustiness. Rob immediately put me at ease when he told me that it's his goal to help people build up or return to their optimal health by having them do what's comfortable while still getting a good work out. A lot like yoga, he encouraged me to listen to body and not overdo it. Phew! 

In addition to Rob's positive motivation, everyone in the class—which included men and women of all ages and abilities—proved really cool and supportive. People truly cheered me on and offered pointers when needed. There was no shaming, only teamwork.

At the end of the day, Rob's Lunch Crunch workout makes you sweat a lot and gets your blood pumping. But it's done in a lovely atmosphere and community. You enjoy shady park scenery, get to absorb the benefits of being outdoors with a fun group of people for an hour, and never have a moment to get bored or caught up in stressful snowball thinking due to a variety of exercises and reps that keep your mind focused.

This workout is at 1030 AM on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and is the perfect time for stay-at-home or work-at-home parents to sneak in some time for themselves and conquer that remaining baby fat (if you're like me!) or muster up the energy to power through the your busy days (again, if you're like me!!).

Open Sky Fitness Giveaway

Open Sky Fitness would like to offer Salt & Nectar readers a free week of Lunch Crunch classes. If you're interested, please contact Rob at 323-2300-SKY (just share our name) and visit his Web site and Facebook for additional information and news on upcoming workouts and events.

Check it out. If I can do it, you certainly can!

~ The Other Sarah

Neither Sarah, nor Salt & Nectar were paid to write this review or offer this giveaway. Sarah recieved a complimentary class to try the Lunch Crunch Workout and she chose to write an experiential review on it.


The Everyday


Sarah's Favorite Things

That's my baby being awesome. 

"Or could it be that motherhood is far more forgiving than we ever could imagine?" A breath of fresh air after the Time debacle.  

I (try to) speak for little voices.

I feel like I should read this piece every morning. 

Laughing definitely seems like the most sane approach.

~ Sarah Stewart Holland


Early Summer Babies Are The Best


My life is crazy right now. Griffin's birthday was yesterday, which means his party is on Saturday. A play-doh factory blow-out I've been planning for weeks would be enough to fill every second, except I've got Amos's first birthday two weeks later...Nicholas's birthday a week later, followed in short order by my mother's birthday, our anniversary, my birthday, and my dad's birthday.

Then, it's Christmas.

Not really, but that's about how it feels. Summers are crazy and I love it. I can't imagine having babies any other time of the year. I chose May primarily because my mother would be out of school. As most of you know, I have my babies at home, but not MY home. I have given birth to both Amos and Griffin at my mother's house and then we usually live with my mother and stepfather for a couple weeks as we settle in to life with an infant.

It is an IDEAL arrangement and I am incrediably blessed to have it. 

There are a couple of other reasons I can't imagine giving birth at any other time. I am less blessed to have about six weeks of mind-numbing nausea. It usually kicks in right around the time the weather turns cooler, which is good because if I had to be sick in the heat I think it would be more than I could handle. The nausea usually clears up just in time for the holidays, which is nice as well.

Also, I am HUGE by my ninth month. HUGE. People started asking me if I was due any day with Griffin at SIX MONTHS. I've seen dear friends suffer through the heat of the summer at seven/eight/nine months pregnant. I can't even imagine dragging around my nine month pregnant belly in 90 degree heat.

So, despite the fact that our summers are turning into one long (sometimes stressful) celebration, I can't imagine having a baby at any other time.

But wait!

"Sarah," you say, "why are we spending so much time on when to have another baby? I thought your husband was opposed."

OH! Did I forgot to mention? Guess who rolled out with a "Let's have another baby" recently?

That's right! Holland #3 is officially on our To Do list for 2013. I'm nothing if not a planner. 

What did you love or hate about the time of year you were pregnant? 

~ Sarah Stewart Holland