Heard in the Q. Household Tonight

From Khalil:
(he was looking at Rory, our kitten, giving herself a bath on the iron I left out from ironing curtains. Curtains, ha!)

"Look at her. Queen of the house."

He then looks at me:

"Sorry. Princess of the house. You're the Queen."

Damn straight. :)

The One Where the Curtains Won

We bought new curtains for our little apartment. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but he's, um, very busy. And it takes him a little while to get to household projects (cuz he LOVES him some household projects...). So yesterday I decided I will try! I can do this! All I have to do is find the drill, and charge it, and drill some holes, and get the curtains in, and, well, this can't be hard! Can it???

When I'm allowed near power equipment, it can be hard. It can.

I'll tell it in parts:

Part One: Paige versus the blinds brackets
I see that there are old blinds brackets on the inside of the windows, where I want to hang the new curtain holder hooks. So, I inspect them. And, upon inspection, decide that yes, I can unscrew the screws and get them down. Because they're In! The! Way! And I'm mighty Paige with the power drill! (I actually didn't have the power drill yet, cuz I hadn't figured out I'd want it. But that's not the point. I did have it later.) Twenty minutes, two very sore knees, and lots of sweat (yes, I can break a sweat unscrewing screws. Have you READ this blog?? I'm a tad overweight.) later, I've gotten the brackets out! I'm unstoppable! Go me! I'll just take a little break and get lunch ready. I mean, I can probably just screw these little hooks...
... oh...
wait.
Shit.
The hooks? they will not go in the back of the window. There's no wood there. It's all... metal. And, well, glass. Can't put them on the sides, cuz, well, they're hooks and you can't hang a curtain rod from sidways hooks. NO you cannot. So I must put the hooks- wait a minute here- on the OUTSIDE of the window.
If you remember correctly, the brackets that cost me blood, sweat, and tears (well, kinda) were on the INSIDE. They could have STAYED, where they would be covered by the CURTAINS.
total time: 25 minutes. 20 to take the brackets out, 5 to figure out I didn't actually need to take them out. And I'm just beginning.

Part two: Why Paige Doesn't DO Home Improvement
After a short break, I stick some lunch in the microwave and decide to just screw a screw or two into the outside of the window while I'm waiting for my lunch. I get up, kneel on counter.
crunch
shatter
explosion
Those sounds? They are of the -ahem- glass cutting board. The one sitting on my counter. The one I just kneeled on. Those sounds are of the glass cutting board shattering into a hundred trillion tiny glass pieces and exploding All. Over. My. Kitchen.
*doorknob shakes*
*knock knock*
I go and let my husband in the house.
Total time: thirty-five minutes. Nine to get lunch ready, one to have a cutting board explode.

Part Three: Someone Must Witness This Debacle, Mustn't They?

K: "Are you ok??" (how did he KNOW??!?!?!)
Me:"I'm fine, I shattered the cutting board."
K: "No, I mean I just saw two cops flying out of here" (Did I scare them off with the flying glass?).
Me: "I don't know what's going on out there. I"m trying to do this." (We live in a Very Small apartment complex. Even in the midst of shattering glass and furious swearing, I should have known there were cops here. Really.)
As I talk I'm trying to get down from counter and get the cat away from the glass she is trying to EAT. As if bleeding paws aren't enough, she wants her tongue to bleed.
K: grabs kitten and puts her in bathroom.
In the meantime, I make it down and look around in shock.
K: Grabs broom and tells me to put shoes on.
K: "Do you want to just leave this and come to the soccer game?" (after making it vaguely clear he doesn't particularly want me there).
Me: "No."(as I stand around looking at the glass. He's still sweeping.)
K: "What's wrong?" (he's still sweeping.)
Me: I'm. Having. A. Bad. Day. (I take the broom. Am fighting back tears. Must do something.)
K: "ok. I just don't know what's wrong with you. Are you mad at me about the game?"(His turn to stand and look.)
Me: "I'm. Having. A. Bad. Day." (More sweeping. And fighting back tears.)
K: "Are you alright? You gonna be ok?"
Me: "Yes. I'm. Having. A. Bad. Day."
Him: Ok. Well, I'm gonna go. I love you.
Me: love you too. Bye.
I don't want you to think he abandoned me. He had stopped home on the way to a soccer game to pick something up. He was rushing out. And I clearly wasn't helping much in the way of him figuring out what was wrong with me. Him leaving was good, cuz I needed to be alone.
To conquer the curtains. Or so I thought.
Total time: one hour, twenty minutes. 25 minutes of crying back tears and convincing my husband I am fine. Twenty minutes of cleaning up glass, sweeping and mopping floor.

Part Four: My New Nemesis, the Electric Drill.

Really, this is much funnier if you could have seen it. I promise. But I don't care. I've got to vent about it somewhere. And here, I have a captive audience. (ha ha ha...)

So. I take a break to eat lunch. The drill is now charged, ready to screw some screws in! And I'm ready to do the screwing (not THAT kind, getchur mind out of the gutter already.)

Alright. I decide where on the OUTSIDE of the window I want my screws to go for the rod. The CURTAIN rod, people. And I make two little holes. And I look for a hammerhead (you know, the kind with four lines instead of one? Like a little x? That's hammerhead, right? For some reason that name sounds wrong.) drill bit. Can't find one. I find a bit with the one line, decide that should work in the hammerhead (that name IS wrong, I know it! What are they called?) screws. So. I insert my screw onto my drill bit. It stays pretty good. I decide I'm good to go. Put the screw to my first little hole, hit the GO! Button on the drill. The screw goes flying. So I get off the counter, find the screw (IN the stovetop), climb back up, and try! again!

Attempts 2-10. Rinse above performance. Repeat. On try four, place hand to steady drill. Hit GO! Button. WHIP hand away as I realize that I have place my hand on the part of the drill that TURNS, burning a nice drillburn into my left hand. Greaaaaaaaaaaaat.

Finally I decide that I need to try something different. So I try a different hole. The lower one.

Attempts 11-20: Rinse above performance, in different hole. Repeat.

Alright. It's not working here. Closely inspect my first two holes- at some point the drill would hold steady, the screw would go in, I would sing praises to God, and then the screw would Stop! And Fly! So I'm inspecting my holes, and decide that there's some kind of metal behind them. (Christine, who was getting the play-by-play via e-mail on my breaks, asked "What metal is it? Is it a pipe, or a sheet? Cuz if it's just a sheet of metal, the drill should be able to get through that! Anyways, so, maybe if I just... er... move this here screw over to the right. That should be good

how the fucking hell am I supposed to know what the metal is from??? Do I look like someone who knows what she's doing???

Attempts 21-30. Rinse. Repeat.

You get the idea. I take a break to e-mail my Christine.

My husband comes home.

Total time: 2 hours. Approximately forty minutes of Paige trying the same thing that is clearly not working over, and over, and over again.

Part Five: Where Paige Decides She Will Never Attempt Home Improvements Again.

Khalil comes home. He listens to my tale of trauma, and says, let me give it a try. I couldn't bear to watch, because when he gets frustrated, man, there's yelling, and swearing, and it's ugly. So I stay in the other room. Hiding. Cuz I'm SURE he's going to get frustrated.

Ten minutes later he says, "Do you want to come put the curtains up?" Yeah..... he was done. It was wonderful.

Numbers

Begin: 214 (yes, I am putting my weight on the internet for all to see.)
Two weeks later: 212
One month later: 218
Two weeks later: 215.5

Since I started- Really, really started my Diabetic Exchange, in one week I lost 2.5 pounds!!! I'm so excited. I was so scared about getting on the scale- I had decided to go to Starbucks and get a chocolate croissant- my weekly indulgence- no matter what. It would either be a reward or consolation. It was a reward!! I'm excited. Something worked. I'm just crossing my fingers it continues to work. I'm going to continue to do it.

This week begins my return to exercise. Look for more gym-fun related posts.

Every Day, Something New

I learned lots of new things lately:

Weight: I CAN lose it. I knew this, but forgot it. I can also be disciplined. And God Almighty, what an awesome feeling THAT is. Sounds crazy, but it's true. To feel... in control again. I've been doing so good with the diabetic exchanges, and I'm *wait* -sit down- enjoying it. I feel healthier and better.

Exercise: See: Weight. The opposite of that. All of it.

My husband: I'm going to learn new things about him. All the time. Funny thing is, that sometimes you forget that. Sometimes you feel like you know someone... just so well. And I do, but I like finding things out about him that I didn't know. LIke, for instance, he's a huge baby about the cold. Huge. Baby. He hates it. It makes him crabby and complainy. Now, I don't love the cold. And if I'm cold, you'll hear me groaning about it as much as the next person. But, see, I'm ALWAYS cold. So we know this about me (thanks mom). Khalil, he's not so always cold. In fact, I'm the one blasting the heat in the car, in the apartment (well, not yet but that's not the point), etc. He's the one turning it down, yelling at me, telling me it's not cold.
Turns out he was just dressed warmer and has a high tolerance for cold. But once he's cold, watch out. You'll get a space heater in your room. And, secretly, you'll love it.

My kitten: We got her declawed a week and a half ago. And the torture has been far worse for me than it was for her. I cried the entire week she was gone. Then she came home, and I cried some more. Because we had to keep her from jumping and hurting herself, so we had to keep her in a room, in a crate when we were gone, etc. Horrible. So I'd get up early to have time to take her out and snuggle with her. And I'll stay up late to calm her down. And I'll love her, love her, love her. To the point that the afore-mentioned husband thinks I'm insane. Oh well. :)

Friends: When I get upset (see: My Kitten) I get anti-social. So, everyone, sorry if I haven't called. I hope you'll forgive me.

Next week starts the exercising again. Cross your fingers and say a prayer for me.

Happy Friday

*Inspired by my ladies*

Things to be Happy about Friday:
~My kitten is coming home tomorrow. Safe and sound.
~Even though we're not using it, we have heat. If we weren't cheap (broke) we could use it.
~I have an absolutely incredible husband.
~Even if it's not my favorite, I. Have. A. Job. Not everyone is that lucky.
~I have a great MIL. She may get on my nerves and make mistakes sometimes, but who doesn't? And she is just so so good for us.
~Back in the whatever-century in Greece or some such ancient country, rolls of fat were signs of health and wealth. While they're not signs of health anymore- at least I have enough to eat. Often too much. ;)
~I have good, good friends. That spend all day with a quiet, teary me to keep my mind of my kitten. Good friends.
~Fall is here!! I love fall!! My fingers may be freezing, but the air is crisp, I can see my breath in the morning, the leaves are changing, my favorite smell turns from freshly cut grass to the smell of a fire in the distance and the smell of the crisp leaves on the ground. I love seeing the carved pumpkins, the fall displays, halloween decorations, and the pretty pretty trees. I love apple cider and apple butter. Pumpkin seeds and pumpkin pie. Apple crisp. Cider donuts. (I looooooove me some fall, can you tell?)

** what are you happy about on Friday?**

And I tried so hard....

So today was my second first day on the Diabetic Exchange Diet. And I did really, really good all day long.

I should preface this by telling you that with some shining exceptions, I've had a terrible week. I had to bring my teeny tiny, trusting kitten to the vet, knowing full well they were going to poke her and cut her open and do all sorts of horrible things to her. I have cried every day this week. (Please. I know that it's pathetic, but she is my baby and I am sad. Leave me the hell alone.) So my husband went grocery shopping tonight and decided to make me a yummy, yummy dinner. And, well, who am I to disappoint him? So, I will eat the yummy dinner. But I will eat the cheese and bread crumb and some kind of soup or sauce smothered chicken. I will, you know, choke down one of my favorite dinners. My goal, however, is to eat in moderation. And not go crazy with everything else all night just cuz of dinner. And not go crazy with the ice cream later just cuz I already blew the night with dinner. THAT is my plan. Back me up, people.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow is another day. It is. Granted it is another day that I will want to have cheese-smothered-chicken for leftovers, but we'll see.

Question: what do you do when you are avoiding being upset? I do one of two things: I either melt into the couch, or I clean. Last night, my husband asked me what I was going to do when I ran out of things to clean. Well, the way we live that will never happen but that's besides the point. Tonight, however, is a melting into the couch night. I'm sooo tireeed from all the cleaning and crying and staying up late because I don't want to go to sleep for whatever stupid reason. Sooo tired.

Poor Neglected Blog

Yes. It's been almost a week.

There are reasons, though, folks. Reasons. We had doctors appointments. For a whole day. Then the cutest kids ever, my niece and nephew, were here. For three days. Then I was tired and slept. Then my cat went to the vet for a spay and declaw and I cried for two days. And now it's today. ;)

On the weight loss thing- well I have a few thoughts. One of them is, I don't think I want this all to be about weight loss. Cuz for one thing, that's not all there is to my life. For another thing, I have more interesting stuff to say. (Once in a while anyways). But because this is an outlet for me to deal with my weight loss (or not, at this point), it will still be a primary topic around here.

So on that. I went to the MD and basically she said that a major problem is that I have very high insulin. I do not have insulin resistance, but I do have hyperinsulinemia. Or something like that big word. This has the potential to cause two major problems for me: diabetes (in general) and then if and when I get pregnant, that it could likely cause gestational diabetes.

So if I want to get pregnant, and I do sometime in the next few years, it would be really, really encouraged for me to lose weight so that I can be healthy. That's a bigger deal for me than avoiding diabetes for me personally. I mean, I do want to avoid that, but I really want to have kids and I really, really want to have a healthy pregnancy. I'm already starting in the negative- I'm heterozygous for MTHFR. So... I want to do everything I can to be healthy in other ways.

The problem is, I cannot for the life of me seem to make changes. I have for a long time believed that in order to get people to change their behavior, you have to give them the appropriate motivation. I have all the necessary motivation- reasons to lose weight. I made a list about it a while ago and now I can add diabetes and gestational diabetes to the list of reasons to lose weight. But when faced with a cider donut, or three cheese penne, I don't make good decisions. When faced with the option of going to the gym or catching up on Dawson's Creek, the Tyra Banks show, or Jeopardy, I'll often pick what my father refers to as the idiot box.

I just do not know how to get myself to get up and go. To, as my weight loss buddy and I refer to it, dust myself off and get going. I have had frequent starts and even more frequent stops. I just don't feel like it.

so there.

this is not a fun way to live, let me tell you that.

Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall

So yesterday I wrote this whole post. It was called Supersize Me and talked all about how I'm fat because my portion sizes are too big-oh wait, it's cuz I Don't Have Portion Sizes. That's right. But then I hit publish post and then it disapeared and I didn't have the energy to rewrite it.

But we're working on that. Yesterday was the first day of my Diabetic Exchange Diet. The worst time of day was after I got home from the gym (more on that in a minute) and before Khalil had started cooking. I was starving. And when I saw how much 1.5 cups of pasta are, I almost cried. But I ate it slowly, and did ok. And then I still had a milk... anyways, before I bore you with the details, by the end of the day I wasn't unhappy with it. I wasn't starving, and I was happy with what I had eaten throughout the day. On to day two today, and we'll see how it goes.

On to the concept of denial. I did a class yesterday- kickboxing, go me!! (for the record, OMG. It kicked my ass, that's for sure...) But I noticed something. In the dark in bed, when I'm getting dressed, in the shower, when I'm at work- I convince myself I'm not that bad. Not that bad. I tell myself that I'm not THAT fat. That I had to buy size 18 and 20 pants- well, they look bigger than they actually are. Then I took that class. And I looked at myself in the mirror, and had the thought "that's not really ME, is it?? That's the fat girl in the class- someone else." No. It was really me. And I realized that I have been in serious denial about how bad I look. How far this has gone. Last time I lost weight, I lost 35 pounds. What prompted me to finally get to Weight Watchers was the fact that my fat pants were painful to wear. So painful that before I went to an evening class, I stopped at Old Navy and bought myself a pair of sweats. That has ceased to motivate me this time around. I have always felt like denial is the strongest of--- something-- emotions, forces, whatever. In some ways it protects people. People sometimes need denial- that's why it's really a defense mechanism- it protects people's psyches from things they just can't manage. But in other times it's still a defense mechanism, but it's more detrimental than helpful. In the definitions in the site linked above, they talk alot about substance abuse and how people's denial that there is a problem keeps them from recovery. That's how I feel about me. My denial of my problem- it's not that bad, I'm not that fat... keeps me from doing what I need to do to make changes.

But I think the denial is on the way out the door. The mirror yesterday was all too stark reality. It is what it is - I'm seriously overweight, it's affecting my health, and my self-esteem, and it needs to be dealt with.

Where has all the motivation gone???

Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh.

I haven't written in a while, because the journey? It has stalled. This is a stall- not a stop, but it has stalled. I work at a Jewish agency, and we have alot of time off this week. That is SO HARD for me because eating right and exercising, for me, and easiest as part of a routine. And right now I have no routine. For all of October, I have these random days off. The gym is Jewish too and they are closed on the holidays (i'm not just talking the holidays that schools are closed for. I'm talking almost two days off every week.) So, I'm all over the place.

I went and saw the nutritionist. She was very nice. Blonde and thin, but not as thin as the intern who sat in with us. She was really skinny. I was happy they weren't fat, though, because then how could I trust their advice?? So I dealt with that. The main one suggested that I go on the diabetic exchange program. Basically I get a certain amount of each type of food each day- like, 2 fats, 4 starches, some milks, meats etc. It should be... interesting. It's alot to get used to. So I'll keep you all updated on the new plan.

In the meantime, I did a few other things. I went shopping, and bought pants in the NEXT size up. Oh my good lord. It's so so so so hard, and at the same time, I need things that fit me. So I had fun shopping, but I am looking forward to the day when I can go shopping cuz I have no clothes SMALL enough to fit me. I have clothes now in sizes 12-18/20. So when I can go shopping cuz I don't have clothes small enough to fit me, OMG that will be the best. The nutritionist says that I'll lose weight at about one pound per week. bleck. Why not 2o??? It feels like I can put it ON 20 per week (not really but that's not the point). But I'm getting ready to do this long term, aware that while I wanted to look cute in this year's Christmas pictures, maybe I'll have to look cute in next year's. I'll get there.

If anyone's reading... I'd love some motivation. Have you done this? Have you lasted the long haul? Have you started and stopped and started and stopped? tell me how this goes for you. Anyone. Thanks.