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My pedometer made me a better mother.

My pedometer made me a better mother.

my feet. circa 2006.

my feet. circa 2006.

To know me is to know Im an *early* adopter (we had a DVR when most still used VHS tapes) or the l-a-s-t to the soiree (I jumped on the Crocs bandwagon LONG after said wagon had been abandoned).

To know me is to also be aware Im opinionated.  To the point of resembling a Tornado petulant child.

Once I get into my head I dislike something (hello mayonnaise!) I never really give it a chance.

Back in the 90s when everyone was tracking/counting—I decided I hated pedometers.

This disdain had nothing to do with the fact I exercise intuitively (I didnt then) & everything to do making a snap decision.

I encouraged others to wear pedometers, rock heart rate monitors and embrace gadgets—but they weren’t for me.

Until they were.

Recently my back started hurting.

I blamed it on my piriformis/the fact I needed to foam roll more–yet I knew, intuitively it was because I sat too much.

Id become the most sedentary healthy living writer I knew.

It was time for a change, I was desperate for a change, I decided a pedometer might be that change.

It took me one day to learn I walked as much as a bed ridden person.

I exercise consistently—but after 30 minutes it’s workwritingworkwritingSITTING for much of my day.

ahh the life of an UpAtCrack working misfit.

the life of an UpAtCrack working misfit.

I PLAYout with the Tornado —- but those activities (monkey bars, SKIP IT) do not equate to steps (who knew?).

I'd get stuck here for hours&hours

I’d get stuck here for hours & hours

We’ve gots a canine–but right now he’s hell on a leash not super walk friendly.

he's not helping...yet!

not helping…yet!

I realized if left to my own work-housework-grocery-work-childtime-work-bed devices Id plateau at 3 thousand steps EARLY in the day & not add much from there.

I was far behind the average American.

I committed to stepping it up (pun intended) and, to my surprise, more steps made me a better mother in the process.

  • My pedometer increased my patience. To mother (canine or otherwise) is to spend lots of time cleaning, straightening, retrieving, and organizing.  Even with my foray into the Orange Rhino I wasnt exceedingly patient when the Tornado would say, as we were leaving the house, OH MAMA I FORGOT XXX. WILL YOU GO GET IT FOR ME? until the pedometer. I no longer heard demands of a disorganized child—I heard her saying HERE’S AN OPPORTUNITY TO SQUEEZE IN STEPS!! 


(imagine image here of me happily skipping inside domicile to retrieve fleece jacket)


  • My pedometer was an opportunity to PRACTICE NOT PREACH.  My approach to parenting life is to practice what I preach & say not a word.  Before my pedometer it hadnt occurred to me a step-count display would be a sign to the Tornado we *both* needed to move!  On days she’d see my count was low she’d take the initiative to suggest we go play.  You dont need to be a mom to know ANYTHING which promotes healthy living *and* spares us nagging is win-win.


when did her fingers get so BIG?!

when did her fingers get so BIG?!


  • My pedometer was a FLASHING reminder of self-care.   I take care of myself firstI get up *early* to do so—but Ive learned if I dont place my oxygen mask on first I cannot ‘do unto’ others for the rest of my day.  It quickly became apparent on days I ONLY did unto others my step count was miniscule.  This is inevitable some days—this is NOT fine as consistent practice.


it cant always be this--but sometimes!

SELF-CARE= a relaxing amble around the lake


So there’s my confession: a gadget Id hated without meeting is now a helpful tool in my belt with regards to being a kinder, gentler, misfit-Mama.

And you?


  • Are you an AVOWED pedometer junkie?
  • What lessons have you learned from increasing your steps?



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