Starting From Scratch

Well, I'm starting OVER.

Not like Starting Over, the TV show.

But like, I've not done anything weight loss related (well, except exercise) in about two months. And so I am starting OVER.

Today I wrote down everything I ate. So far, I have eaten according to my 'xchange plan. I have a headache and am hungry, but more or less I'm doing pretty good so far.

Raise a glass (of water) to a day 2/3 of the way done, and good decisions made.

Getting Ready

Oreos? Check
Doritos? Check
Dairy Queen Blizzard? Check
Yummy dinner of some kind, not measured in any way? Check
Chocolate Chip Pancakes? Check

Yes. Tomorrow I begin again. I have done what I always do. I am organized. I have a computerized food journal printed out. I play to write my food down every day. I plan to put it all online so that I can keep track of my calories. I plan to stay within the mealplan of the old 'xchange. I am going to exercise.

I am going to lose weight. I'm ready. I'm done with the eating being out of control, and I am ready to drink water, pee all day, and be hungry. But feel good about myself. And not be out of breath all the time.

Last time I did the 'xchange, I did it my way. I kept track of what I ate as far as protein, starch, fat, fruit, milk, and veggies. But I didn't primarily choose whole grain and brown foods. I ate lots of processed foods and white flours and refined sugars. This time I'm trying it differently. Whole wheat pasta, brown rice instead of prepared rice, etc etc. We shall see how it goes.

I am ready. I hope tomorrow goes well and I hope I can make good choices every day. I am primarily nervous about eating out. I'm looking forward to lots of salads.

See you on the other side. Again. Ahem.

Goodbye Old Friend

Today my sister and I were talking about the weekend. I told her that tomorrow we're hanging with the weed smokers. She laughed, and then said, "Is this the kind of weekend that you miss J?"

I didn't know what to say. I kind of stuttered. "Yeah, a little." The truth was, yes, so much that it's painful to talk about it. So let's not.

J and I became friends when we were juniors in high school. She was new to the school that I had been attending since I was in first grade. I never really fit in with many people there, then J came. I thought she was so cool. We hit it off one day on the way home from something. I went to a very small, very Christian private school. J and I were the misfits, so we misfit together. We got in trouble when we made a mean book and someone found it. We stuck together so much so that people spread rumors that we were gay. In the school we went to, that was an insult. We laughed it off. We became exclusive to each other, to the point where I shut out friends I had had forever in preference of J.

We had one fight in that time, and it lasted months. I wish I could say that I don't know what it was over, but I do. It was a boy. I thought she was trying to steal a boy from me. J was always prettier and littler than me, and I was at the time very insecure. We stopped talking. When I went away to college, we started talking again. We knew that we'd always be friends. That was a blip.

I have so many memories of us together. She was there the night I got my first kiss. She used to make out with my cousin in the backseat of my car. She called me when she got a hickey on her neck and didn't know what to do. We spent most weekend every weekend at each other's houses. We were insecure, so we made fun of everyone else. I was the maid of honor in her wedding. I was out of state when she had her first daughter, but she still called me Auntie Paige. I stayed with her first daughter when she went to the hospital to have her second daughter. I was an aunt to her girls. I was one of the few people she told me I could trust with them.

There was always alot of drama around J. I always supported her. Told her she was right, even if I didn't agree. We shopped together. We'd walk around malls together. We'd vent together. She and her family became my family. We all spent holidays together. She helped me plan my wedding. She was with me the night I found my centerpieces. I was her family when hers wasn't there for her. She was my best friend.

Ten years of my life are intertwined with her. I can't look through pictures of any given year without many of them being of her, and then her and her family. I used to love talking to her, because even though I have other friends, no one understood my history like she did, and vice versa. We knew each other's families. I was there when her stepfather did horrible things. She was there when my parents got divorced, then when my mom got remarried. I knew what things were like and why with her sister, and she knew what things were like and why with my brother. As a friend, she is irreplacable. I might be able to make other friends. I might connect with other people. But you can't replace ten years. You can't replace being friends with someone for that long. You get to know someone.

That's why I know, to some extent, what has gone wrong. But this isn't about what went wrong. It's to say goodbye. To say I loved you, you were my friend. I will never forget you. There will never be a friend like you in my life. I'll never forget you. How could I? Ten years of memories and pictures won't let me. I will miss you. I will miss your daughters desperately. I hope everyone understands when I don't really want to talk about you, because it is painful for me. I'd rather pretend like I don't care. Maybe people will think that I'm sentimental or weird for caring so much for a friend, but for me friends are hard to come by and much, much harder to lose. But the time really has come for us to say goodbye.

Goodbye old friend. I'll think of you.

So.
I kind of took a break. It was an unplanned break, but yes a break nonetheless. I guess that while I'm not doing anything about my weight, there isn't much to say in my weight loss blog. Ha. There are a few non-weight related posts I want to write, but I'm still gearing up for them.

In the meantime. Let's talk about weight and babies.

I've wanted babies ever since, well, probably since I was a baby. Practically. When I played pretend, usually I was the mom of alot of babies. My barbies all had babies. When I wasn't playing Little House on the Prairie, I was a mom. I wanted ten (*gasp*) kids. I thought I'd be a great mom to ten kids, when I was ten.

Then I started babysitting. Yes. People let me care for their small children starting when I was about eleven. The thought now? Gives me heebie jeebies. I can't imagine anyone less than... I don't know? College age? Caring for my children. I started as a Mother's Helper, watching children while their moms did things around the house. Then I got older and the moms would leave while the babies were napping. Then I got older and the moms and dads would leave at night. By the time I was thirteen or so, I was watching several children of various ages for full days. I loved to babysit. I was a popular babysitter, clearly I was very good at what I did. I babysat all through high school. WhenI was younger I had a whole range of families. As I got older and got a social life (sort of) and worked at "real" jobs, I had 2-3 families I consistently babysat for. I knew these kids all growing up.

I still babysit. I still love it, I'm so weird. I watch my niece and nephew, but that's not really babysitting to me. I watch my friend's son. It only feels like I'm babysitting when he goes to bed and I watch TV.

But I'm ready for my own kids. When Khalil and I started dating, I informed him I wanted four children. He informed me he wanted one. Huh. We have since compromised, but let's get through the first one and see where we are.

What, do you ask, does having children have to do with your weight? Apparently, just about everything. For several years now, every time I have been to the doctor I have been told to lose weight. I have been lectured about the health risks of my weight. I was told I am obese, and I must lose weight or I will die. (just kidding, kind of.) The more people TELL me to lose weight, the worse I am at actually losing weight.

Which puts me in a funky situation. After my last annual appointment with my ob-gyn, we met to meet about the various issues and questions I had about pregnancy in the next... six months or so? I had lots of questions: I am heterozygous for MTHFR (take folic acid), there are two children with Down Syndrome in my family (a niece and you all have seen my adorable nephew) (solution? my nephew doesn't have the genetic kind of DS- shan you want to help me here?, so we should be ok, apparently that's just a weird coincidence), and a baby with a NTD. You all have read about that, solution folic acid. The last of my questions, and the biggest of my ob-gyn's concerns, was that I have an elevated insulin.

She asked me to see a Diabetes Doctor. She told me that if I want to start trying, she wants my insulin "under control" first. Basically, what she said to me was, if you want to have babies take care of your problem. I'll the Diabetes Doctor my Sugar Doc. He is an older man who only sees new clients at 1pm on Wednesdays and Fridays. Bizarre if you ask me. He wore a tweed coat. He told me that there could be several reasons for my elevated insulin. Maybe it's insulin resistance. Maybe I have diabetes. Maybe it's PCO (polycystic ovarian disease, well known on the internet as PCOS, he called it PCO). The nail in my coffin? Maybe it's obesity.

We talked about my weight history.
Have you always been heavy? Yes.
What did you weigh in high school? Maybe 150? I gained alot after that.
How much? Well, I weigh about 210 now, 221 at my highest. He writes furiously.
Oh, you've tried Weight Watchers? Yes. I lost about 35 pounds on Weight Watchers, got down to 175 or so.
So, since you've done WW, and it worked, what's the... ? The problem, you ask? Motivation, I guess. I don't know. (If I knew what exactly the problem was, don't you think I'd fix it??? )Then: Do you want to see the nutritionist? Is she going to put me on the Diabestes Exchange Diet?
Yes. Then no thank you.

He smiled. He was nice. And compassionate. I know he made a few insensitive comments. But I'm also overly sensitive about this stuff. He knew his stuff. I liked his plan. I agreed with it. I liked that he made the plan, and while he asked for my input, he didn't ask me to make the plan for him. He checked in with me to make sure I knew. He went over the plan with me about five times, because I kept asking him.

The plan has five points.

The most glaring and important though? If I want to lower my insulin, I better lose weight.

The pressure is on. If I want to have babies, I need to lose weight. The more pressure I have to lose weight, the worse I am at losing. I guess there's no time like the present to change that dynamic, right?

Foodaholics Anonymous

I'm kind of comparing my weight loss journey to an alcoholic's journey. Right now I'm somewhere between anger and rebellion. It's just that I HATE having to deal with this. I want to not have to worry about what I eat. I just want to put whatever I want to in my mouth, when I want to.

But, this is not my reality. The reality for me is that when I put crap in my mouth, it affects my body. I gain weight, I feel like crap both emotionally and physically. Some small weight is lifted off of me because for a time I don't have to stress about what I'm eating. I can just be mindless about it. I can not worry, not think about it. I can just not worry about what I'm eating.

I know it sounds drastic to say that my struggles with weight compare to an alcoholic's struggle. But I think they validly do. I am addicted to food. I use it for comfort. I go to it when I'm bored. When I'm sad, mad, angry, or happy, the first thing I think of is food. I have physical cravings for food. I will go days wanting one specific thing. Sometimes the craving doesn't even go away the first time I give in. Most recent? Pancakes and Reeses PB cup Blizzards. Oy.

There will be more on this later, but it's come to the point where my need to lose weight, or at the very least to change myeating habits, has become larger than just me (no pun intended). The pressure is on. If I want to have healthy babies, and want to be healthy, I have to make different choices.

So I'm adopting the alcoholic's favorite mantra: One Day At A Time. I'm going to eat well today. For this lunch. For this minute. Yes. I will make mistakes. I will mess up. I will have good days and bad days. But at the next meal, I will make different choices. And if I mess up, I move on. Clearly, all or nothing is very, very dangerous for me. So I'm not doing it that way anymore, for now.

One day at a time.

The Good Stuff

I've been gone. I know.

I have lots to say. But today, I'm going to show off my niece and nephew. I spent a weekend with them and my sister, and have lots of great pictures. So here goes a picture post.

Caleb and Ellie

I have always loved being an aunt. I remember when my sister told us she was pregnant with Caleb. At that moment I felt like I already loved the baby she was carrying. I remember one time when I came home form college, when Caleb was a baby. It was a hard year for me, and I just scooped him up and hugged him. I can still remember the visceral feeling of holding him, as a baby, to me. I felt at that moment like everything was ok. Or it would be. When Shannon told us she was pregnant with both Hannah and Ellie, I felt the same way. Of courese, with Hannah we lost her and that was heartbreaking. But I still love her. When Ellie came I was living in California. Of course there were many things that influenced my decision, but I was home form California to about a month after Ellie was born. It was just... I needed to be near them. To know them and have them know me. I didn't want to be the aunt that we kind of know who lives far away.

And I'm not. I'm the aunt they know and love. That they're comfortable with. They come and stay with us for weekends. When I'm coming to stay with them, they're excited. When they come here, if they're not sleeping over, sometimes they get upset. We pull the calendar out and talk about when we'll see each other again and when they'll be sleeping over again.

There's something special, magical about a aunt/uncle/niece/nephew relationship. If it's done right, you're as comfortable with your aunts and uncles as you are with your parents (or close) but without all the complications of being parent/child. I love that life has worked out so that I can have a close relationship with Caleb and Ellie. They mean the world to me. The world.

Since I held them as babies, Caleb and Ellie have grown so much. They're independent little people with distint personalities and preferences. Caleb loves all things boy, including cars and football, and Ellie loves all things girl, including dresses, Dora, and dance. They play together, they are each other's best friends. They also get on each other's nerves faster than anyone else can. Caleb can read, Ellie pretends to read. Ellie bosses Caleb around, and Caleb pushes Ellie around. Caleb loves to hug, cuddle, and be affectionate. Ellie is growing into a very independent little girl, but if you get her in the right mood you can easily get a good cuddle. Caleb loves to rough and tumble, Ellie loves art. They are their own people.

They still run to hug and kiss me every time they see me.

I can't imagine, if you love someone this much who's not your own child, what it would feel like to love your own child.