Fridays

In my life, when I'm dieting (I've stopped pretending that it's not dieting. Hopefully it will be dieting which evolves into lifestyle changes, but for now, really, it's still dieting) Fridays are my day "off". Not off completely, no. But I go to Starbucks- I weigh myself on Fridays, and so it's either my reward or my consolation. Yes, I make TONS of sense. Then, cuz I figure I've started off not on, I continue with my day. Usually go out to lunch, and then pizza for dinner. (we've been having Friday night pizza for about three years now. I'm a huge fan of tradition).

While Fridays may seem like a cop-out to you, to me they are dieting sanity. While my goal continues to be to NOT go crazy, even on Fridays, it still is a break. It means I don't have to think about how many milks I've had or how many starches I can't eat. I am going to try and NOT snack- just eat my Starbucks, my healthy lunch, and pizza, and leave it at that. I'm going to use them well.

Cuz if I don't, I'm going to take Fridays away from myself, and that would suck. But you have to earn your rewards. Last week, I didn't take Friday because I had only been back on the 'xchange for two days. However, we did go out to eat and I did my best.

Tomorrow is Friday. I love Fridays.

ALSO tomorrow, Caleb and Ellie, my niece and nephew, come for the weekend. These little guys are my favorite little people ever. My sister told me tonight that Ellie, who is three almost four (GASP!) asked her tonight, "Mommy, what are we going to make at Aunt Paigey's?" Shannon told her she didn't know and Ellie wouldn't let it go.

Because one time they came and we made brownies.

And Flag Cake.

Another time they came and we made Apple Crisp. They loved making it cuz they got to get their hands dirty with the mashing of the butter and ingredients with the apples. They didn't love the finished product, but that's alright. It's really more about the making and the cute pictures than it is about the eating.

This weekend we'll make some fun stuff. I can't wait to see them. Whenever they come and they're not sleeping over, they ask if they're sleeping over. I love that this time they are. Caleb has cried before on days when he's not slept over, and I show him on the calendar how long it will be until he comes back. When I moved home from California, a big piece of it was for the then-boyfriend-now-husband. Another key piece was because I did NOT want to be that aunt you know from far away but you're not really comfortable with. I wanted to be the aunt that knew her niece and nephew backwards and forwards, cuz she was there with them and close enough to do that. I'm still not as close as I'd like to be, we still live two or so hours away. But I get to see them alot, and I treasure that time.

So tomorrow? Will be an extra special Friday. I can't wait.

How's it Going?

So today is a week, just me and the ole DE, better know as the 'xchange in this here girls' life. I've been surviving on veggies and whole wheat pasta for one whole week. I've been trying to make healthy decisions, for one whole week.
I'm not starving. Not full, but not starving. I miss being full, sometimes, but only the comforting full, not the i'm-so-stuffed-I-could-puke full. I felt that full far too often, giving me the clear hint that I really have no concept of how much I actually should be eating. It's just that food tastes so. damn. good.
The 'xchange has lots of structure. Structure that I have no idea how to implement myself, but that seems to work for me. Regardless of weight, I do feel like I'm eating much healthier. Less sugar. Lots more fruits and veggies. More milk. A note on the milk, kind of. I've been eating yogurt (fruit flavored, low fat) with fresh fruit just about every day. I'll cut up some strawberries, wash some grapes, and mix with yogurt. Voila! Yogurt I can gag down! Counts as a milk!
Turns out? Not so much. Only plain yogurt counts as a milk. Flavored? Counts as three starches and 0-1 fat, depending on the sugar and fat content. Good GOD. No more yogurt para mi. The problem is? I don't like milk. If Shannon's still reading, she's gasping, cuz she LOVES milk. When she was pregnant, the doctor told her she had to drink LESS milk. I don't get it. I can drink milk in one of two ways: chocolate milk, and milk in a coffee or latte. Oh, make that three. Milk that has just had a huge bowl of cereal in it works too. Plain milk? Plain yogurt? Not so much. So, I'm going to have to come up with other ways to Get Milk.
Which points to the larger issue: I have to pay attention to detail. I have now come up with my own version of the 'xchange (in which something that actually costs 3 starches and a fat in the real 'xchange, costs 1 milk in my 'xchange). I have to start paying attention to the details.
Why, if you're losing weight, you ask?
Cuz remember. Not only am I losing weight, I'm decreasing my risk for diabetes.
So I can have babies one day. That's all it's really about, really. The babies.

What makes a friend?

In high school, I had this idea of friendship. If you were friends with me, you kind of had to endure this kind of tough love friend. I skirted the line of judgementalism- I imagine growing up very right wing Christian didn't help that.*

Since then, I've loosened up. I think. I tend to temper my own opinions with a dose of- well, I was trying for sensitivity. I bite my tongue alot more. I think more about what I want to say and what I don't. I consider the pros and cons of things I want to say. I have very select friends with whom I am 100% honest, and most of all just my husband. Because most people don't actually want to hear what I really have to say. Which is fine, I don't think I'd always want to hear everyone's totally honest opinions either.

I guess the question for me remains: Where, in friendship, is the appropriate line of honesty and, um, tact and sensitivity. One would argue that you can be honest with tact, and I 100% agree. However, there are times that no matter how much tact you use, some people and in some situations do not want to hear the truth (myself included, at some times, if truth be told. no pun intended). I am still working on when to be honest and when to keep my big fat mouth shut. I tend to be opinionated (those who know me are laughing their asses off right now) and I need to work on keeping my opinions to myself a bit more.

So, I have this friend. And she told me that some comments I have made recently were insensitive and unsupportive. One of them probably was. I don't remember the rest and I wans't made privy to that information. Apparently I don't get details on what I've done to offend, I can just guess and hope that in the future I don't make the same mistakes again. There are some things I can guess at. My problem is? That I've done ALOT of biting my tongue with some of these things, and for someone like me, you can only bite your tongue for so. damn. long. Sometimes things just slip out. I swear, I didn't mean to hurt. If was allowed to talk to her right now (she's asked for some space), that's what I'd shout. I'd never have wanted to hurt. I love the people I choose at my friends and it hurts me when I've hurt them. I just want to make it better, and it's hard for me that I'm not being allowed to try. I wrote an apology e-mail and was more or less asked to leave it alone, and I will. While I don't understand it- my style is to have a problem, talk about it, and move on- I will respect it.

My question is this, and really, if you're reading, I'd love an answer. Even just your own opinion would be great: when is honesty too much? If you say it with tact (and I'm not proposing I always manage that) and love, when is honest being a friend and when is it offensive?

I'm on day FIVE of being back on the diabetic exchange, heretofor referred to as: the 'xchange. I loved it the first time, and I love it again. It does a good job of keeping me structured, and while I'm not ever full or stuffed, if I stay on top of it, I'm never starving either.
We went out on Friday night, we went to Cosi's and then to a hockey game. Then out for ice cream. While the full fat ice cream isn't on my 'xchange, I think I did good. I felt really good because I just made better choices. Instead of pizza, I got a really yummy sandwich. Instead of a medium ice cream with two mix-ins, my usualy, I got a small with one.
Because while I plan to do and stick with the 'xchange, I have to live my life as well. This will never work if it doesn't match with my life. And SO, when I go out, my goal is to make better choices.
I weighed 221.5 on day one.
I weighed 216.5 on day four.
I think there's something wrong with my scale. I've been weighing around 218, so the 221 was a surprise. I'm hoping the 216 is the closer number to me. :)

I think I've avoided blogging the last few days because I've had things to say but haven't been sure how to say them. Hopefully they'll come. Alot of it involves being scared, and hut, and I'm not always good at putting that into words.

In the meantime, I'm feeling really excited about being back on the 'xchange. I like it and know I can do it. I will stick with it and by the end of the year, well, look out!

She's Leavin' On a Jet Plane...

Well, not actually leaving. And, um, it's more like in a red truck, not so much a jet plane. And as to the next line, I do know when she'll be back again...

But still, fitting to my mood.

I mentioned before that my mom might be moving to Kentucky. And she is. Sort of.

My stepfather is an Army Chaplain. Before the war, he was in the reserves. One weekend a month and two weeks in the summer. Cake, right? Well, until we went into war. And he spent a year or so in Iraq. He came home on medical leave. And since then things have been confusing... he can't get a job because he might have to work for the army, then he was looking for a job, then he got a job possibility in the army... Since my mom's been married to him, I've heard several time about how they might be moving here or there. Las Vegas, Colorado, Hawaii, New York, and Kentucky. So I got to the point where I just blew it off. Who cares, she's not actually gonna leave.

My mom and I are close. No, we don't see each other every day. We don't even talk to each other every day. We don't agree on everything. I don't always love what she does. But she is my mommy. When I moved home to Connecticut, I was happy to be closer to her. It's nice to have her righthere. Even if you don't need your mom all the time, it's nice to know she's there if you need her. And even if she's not perfect, she's around. And I love that.

So when it seemed imminent that she may be moving to Kentucky, I got upset. Because you know what? My mommy? Is going to be hours away by car or plane. I couldn't just drop by. She couldn't just come and take me to lunch. When we have kids, I can't just ask her to come over and help. She promises she's just a flight away, but to me, that's too far.

The deal now? Is something like: for four months, she'll be here for two weeks and there for two weeks. I think that's going to get Old. Fast. After four months, he'll await army orders and we'll all see what the next few years will bring.

In the meantime? I still feel like she's leavin' on a jet plane...

Internal Tapes

Seeing as I'm a two-degreed social worker, you could say I've been to social work school. When I did my undergrad degree in social work, in one class (please don't ask which one. I'm not sure.) we had this whole discussion about internal tapes. At the time I really, and truly thought it was a crock of shit. We had to read a book and write a paper about our internal tapes. What it boils down to is this: we believe what we tell ourselves. If we tell ourselves we can do something, we believe it, and we can. If we tell ourselves that we will fail, we believe that and we do fail.

Almost like, what we tell ourselves is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

It goes beyond what we can and cannot do, too. It's about how we think about ourselves, and life. Also, that for most of us, our internal tapes are subconcious. We don't really think about them and it takes some thought and self-searching to figure out what we really say to ourselves.

All this is to say, that lately, I've been, um, buying into the whole idea of internal tapes. When I did the paper in college, I bs-ed my way through it. I made up what I thought I should say.

What would I say now? What are my internal tapes and what do I want them to be?

Right now, when I listen to myself, I'm hearing horrible things. I say things to msyelf that I would cringe to hear said to other people. Things like, "Jeez, you're so ugly." "Don't look in the mirror, that ain't pretty" etc etc. They get worse and worse. Sometimes it's so bad that I relate everything to how I look. How shallow is that? "they must not like me because I'm fat". I know better than that, and if people don't like me for that reason, I don't care what they think anyways. I get to the point that I'm telling myself I hate myself and don't like myself, because I hate the way I look and think I'm ugly.

I have good internal tapes- I know I'm good at some things, and remind myself of them. Other's internal tapes, that people have given me, help too. My husband loves me for who I am, inside and out, and that seeps its way into my tapes. I'm good at social work. I'm a good friend. I'm a great aunt.

I'm sure everyone has both good and bad, and are telling themselves positive and negative. Some of the negative helps keep us humble. The problem is when either set of tapes are out of proportion. When you tell yourself too much good, you get cocky. When you tell yourself too much bad, you get that broad ridiculous psychological term, bad self esteem.

I'm well on my way. Now, my self-esteem has ridden some waves in life. In high school, in the gutter. The first few years of college, dangerous. The last four or so years, you could probably drop the bad. I gained some confidence in life and in myself. I started to lose some weight and overall was feeling good. The last year or so... dropping...

I have to change the tapes. When you believe in tapes, you have to believe that you have the power to change them. That gives me some power. If I can realize my tapes are negative, I can change them to positive. With a combination of changing my behavior (my eating and exercising habits, or lack thereof) and changing what I tell myself.

It sounds like psychobabble, I know. But I've got to pull the self-esteem out of the gutter, and I've got to have postive tapes again. I can't keep telling myself how horrid I am. I'm just not being fair to myself. And it's too hard to hear every day.

Family. Here.

I wrote a while back about family- my chosen family and the family I was given. ;) It's important to know that I really, really love the family I was given, even my crazy stressed out mom.

Which brings me to today. Today my sister and her kids, my niece and nephew, came up to hang out. They live about two hours away. We took them to a children's museum, had lunch at this... bizarre diner, and they came back to the house. My husband teased me about reading blogs, and Shannon asked me if I had my own.

I told her about this one. And tonight, I'll e-mail her the link. (Hi, Shan! Ready to read about YOU???) Then I kind of panicked because, well, I whine alot around here. It's kind of my venting place anyways. I've written about my sister before, and actually realized that that post is alot of what I wanted to say here.

That my sister is my best friend. I know she's not thrilled that I didn't tell her about my blog, but, well I'm not sure why I didn't. I guess... I don't know. Not that she would judge me, cuz she wouldn't. She loves me too much and is too supportive of me. Not that she wouldn't understand, cuz she will. I think I wasn't sure what this blog was going to be, and so I didn't really tell anyone I know in real life about it. Well, Khalil knows, but we do share a computer.

Shannon and I are nine years apart. She used to babysit me. When I was little, she used to tell me she dropped me on my head when she babysat for me one time, and that's why I was the way I was (we haven't always been this close). I remember when I was little, that when we'd argue, she'd always come and apologize for her part. She's like that- if she makes a mistake, she's pretty quick to own up to it. The rest of my family likes to pretend like things aren't happening. What? We got in a fight? No, no, we're fine now. Not Shannon. I remember sitting on the toilet in the bathroom her and my brother shared, watching her get ready for dates. Doing her hair, her make-up, I so looked up to her. And she was so patient with me. Ther's a picture, somewhere, of me posing with her and her prom date. He dress was pink and poofy, as they were in the 80s, and I remember thinking how pretty and grown up she looked.

When I was in high school, she was married and we weren't that close. Then I got into college, and moved to California. And she had children, and we got a little bit closer. I'd go stay at her house- at least once over the summer for a few days, and usually for a few days on breaks too. I've always loved her homes. They are warm, cheerful, and most of all welcoming and homey.

Then, a year after I graduated from college, I moved home. I wanted to be with my boyfriend, who was now my husband. Shannon had just had her third child, my niece Ellie, and Caleb was getting older. I wanted to be a big part of their lives. That has worked. It was one of the best decisions I made. Shannon and I got closer still. Soon, the joke of the family was, don't tell one something you don't want the other to know. It still holds true. It's just that we're so close, and we talk to each other about everything. Whenever anything happens, the person I want to tell most, after my husband, is my sister.

I remember one night when I was engaged. I had gotten my wedding dress, and was really excited. It wasn't a typical white dress- it had purple, green, and blue flowers embroidered all over it. It was stunning. I showed my Mother in Law, with the clear warning to NOT SAY ANYTHING around Khalil. Well, one night she slipped and said something. I called Shannon on the way home, biting back tears. She asked what was wrong, and I wailed into the phone, "She ruined my dressssssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!" or something like that. My sister spent alot of time that night on the phone with me, calming my bridal nerves about the ridiculous dress. Turned out my husband hadn't even really caught the comment and didn't have a clue about the dress. But I know that whenever I need her, she's there for me. And I hope that she knows that it's true the other way. If I can, I will move heaven and earth to be there for her. Whatever she needs. I haven't always been, and will always regret that I wasn't there the one time she needed me most. But she tells me she's forgiven me for that. In the meantime, I'm lucky to have a best friend like my sister.

So hi shan. Hope you enjoy the whining about being fat. There's lots of it here. ;)

Here we are, at my wedding.




























Ouch. Sorry abou the crappy photo quality. Not sure what to do about that...

Snow Day...

Today, in CT, it snowed. Like, alot. Like, I'm not sure it's not still snowing. (we have the drapes shut. Cuz, well, heat's expensive these days.) Khalil had school off, and I? I had work off! I work at a large mental health non-profit, and alot of us are home visitors. Which is one of the reasons why I think that our agency closes.

So? What did I do with my day off, you ask? I exercised, and made a new menu, and a healthy grocery list! I cut fruit for fruit salad and veggies for regular salad! I packed lunches away so that I'd have healthy lunches for the rest of the week! Did I tell you I exercised?

hahahahahahahaaaaaa.

I got up at 11am. I ate Moose Munch for breakfast, cheese and crackers for lunch, and Hamburger Helper for dinner. I sat around. The most active and productive thing I did today? Was have the USPS guy tell me that, actually, technically you shouldn't write "Please See ID" on the back of your debit card. What is productive about that? I refrained from telling him to fuck off and asking him whether he worked for the Post Office or for the Bank???? Now, that, my friends, is productive.

So, since I didn't do much today, there's not much to say... That's the strange thing about trying to Blog every day. That some days, there's just not much to say.

They're Baack...

So the Weight Watchers commercial is back. They must have gotten alot of business from it last round, and we all know New Years is prime time for weight loss. When I first did WW, I remember the first Friday night after New Years. We went from a... 10 person group of regulars, to about a 40 person group of non-regulars who had made New Years Resolutions. At the time, I was incredibly annoyed. I had been going at this for two months, was sort of making connections (hey, I knew their faces and how they were doing in their weight loss journey) and all these people came, who- I don't know, they were interrupting my space. If you know me well, you know that I am a teeny tiny bit protective of my space. So they all annoyed me.

But I'm starting to understand, I think. I mean- the New Year. It brings something naively hopeful- the promise of new beginnings, a chance to start over, the thought that this time, this year, you can change things. Do it differently. Do it better.

On day two of the new year, I have made just about zero progress on my resolut--- er, goals. I'm blogging, two days in a row, so that's, um, progress. As for the eating and exercising- well, let's just laugh... all together now. I haven't gotten anywhere on the hours for my LCSW thing, cuz well, I haven't been to work (to be fair, today's a legal holiday). And the baby thing, well, that's a distant goal. And to get to it, the eating, exercising and losing weight goals must make some progress.

1 out of 6. Har de har har.

More of Paige, hopefully

It's 2006. Really and truly.
In this past year, I have:
lost about 6 pounds and gained about... 30? Ugh.
Graduated with my Masters Degree in Social Work.
Gotten not one, but two new jobs. One that sucked, one that rocks.
Started a blog.
Made two new friends.
Gained a kitten.
Moved into a new apartment.
Met the milestone of one year of marriage.
Watched my hsuband finally get a job, and then get a better one also.
Joined and quit a gym.
Joined and quit Weight Watchers.
Watched two friends have babies and watched several other friends continue to raise babies.
Gotten a raise.
Went from working 7 days a week to working 5.
Learned that I am at very high risk for diabetes and gestational diabetes should I become pregnant, if I don't lose weight soon.

There's more, I'm sure. It's been a good, good year, overall. I have to say.

I have big plans for this year, 2006. To be clear, these are NOT resolutions. They're goals. Here goes:
Exercise. I'd say learn to like it, but, really- well, one huge thing at a time.
Eat well.
Lose weight. This category includes: stop hating the way I look, eat healthier, get myself out of the diabetes risk range, and get this demon under control.
Get my hours completed for my LCSW- for those of you that aren't sure, that's the license I need for social work. It will give me more pay and alot more flexibility. Which will allow me to:
Start trying for babies.
Blog more often. Right now my goal is every day, but I'm not sure that can happen. The bigger piece of this goal is for me to find my own voice. What do I want to say here, and how do I want to say it?

That's all. Small, measly goals, yes??? We shall see.

It was a good year, and it ended on a great note. Quietly, at home, with my husband.
It will be a good year, and it started on a great note. At home, surrounded by my family. I can only hope for more.