Less of Paige

I'm MOVING!!

2006-10-19T16:39:00.000-07:00

Come see me over at:

http://lessofpaige.wordpress.com

I want to thank my first Blogging home, Blogger, but I have found a site that actually keeps up with me as I type. How refreshing!

Step Away From the Pumpkin-Chocolate Chip Cookies

2006-10-16T16:32:00.000-07:00

Khalil went through the recipe for me, telling me what we needed from the pantry. (I am far too lazy busy to do work like that myself.)
While I was in the middle of cooking, he asked me "Why are you making these again?" And I told him, "Because I felt like it."
I had the honest-to-goodness true intention of eating only ONE pumpkin-chocolate-chip cookie.
I have eaten... probably close to 15, if not.. well, let's just leave it there. I didn't KNOW that they would be so good. I didn't know that the moist pumpkin would meld so well with the slightly crunchy chocolate chips. I didn't know that mixing two of my favorite flavors would rend me helpless. Honest to God, I thought I was going to eat one cookie.
On the way home tonight, I thought to myself, "I want some of those cookies". And I knew I'd eat some. Then I thought, "What if I went home and planned not to eat any cookies? What about that?" Because that has actually worked for me- if I make up my mind about something, I usually stick with it. But when I said that this time, I laughed at myself. Ha ha, that's so funny. You are just as helpless against the pumpkin-chocolate chip cookie as you are against the cookie-dough Pop-tart (I had four one day. Four.).
Needless to say, unless they all leave my house, I will not be making pumpkin-chocolate-chip cookies again "because I feel like it".
Also, as a side note? I'm watching a TiVo-ed episode of "Mi Vida Eres Tu". It's a requirement for my Spanish class. I wish I knew what they were saying.

Fall is Here

2006-10-14T18:32:00.000-07:00

I love fall.

I like spring, too, and summer. I like spring- the coming out of winter, emerging feel of spring. I like summer, I like the sizzling hot, I like beaches, I like the heat of summer. I like winter too- but mostly just the beginning. The first snow, Christmas, and wearing sweaters.

But I love fall. I love the crisp air. I love the smell of the leaves on the ground. I love apple picking and pumpkin carving. Hay rides. I love going to fairs and fall festivals. I love the weather- it's not so warm I'm always hot, but not so cold I have to wear a jacket. I like that it's chilly in the morning and at night, but warm in the afternoon.

Also? I LOVE food for each season. Summer brings ice cream and iced coffee. Winter is time for hot chocolate.

But fall? The food that fall brings. Hot apple cider and a plethora of apple desserts. Pumpkin and apple pie. Pumpkin lattes. Cider donuts. Pumpkin bread. Thanksgiving food. Fair food! Fried dough, funnel cake, cotton candy, apple fritters, caramel apples.

Which of course leads to the dilemma. No, dilemma just isn't the right word. Temptation is I guess. I love this food. Alot of it doesn't come around all the time. And if it does... well, it's just not the same. I want to eat it. I want to let my discipline go. I want to not worry about it. A couple of times, I've already done so. But I know that I can figure out ways to do every season without always having an excuse. Once I started losing weight, I went all. summer. long. without Dairy Queen. Listen, maybe to you it's not a big deal. But for me? Huge. HuGE. Every summer, I went at least a few times a week. This summer, instead of going to DQ every week, I lost weight. I felt better. I look better.

I have to keep that. Maintain the focus and discipline. This weekend already I've felt myself not wanting to be careful. Just wanting to eat whatever when I go out. Not worry about the consequences.

But there are consequences. Thirty pounds of them.

Fall is here. I'm trying not to fall.

Love Thursday

2006-10-12T05:32:00.000-07:00

Love Is...

My sister.

I have learned so much from my sister.

About how to be a good mother, who your children feel secure with.

About overcoming some of life's biggest challenges.

About facing your worst possible nightmare, surviving it, and moving through it with grace.

About being a sister and what that means.

About being best friends with your sister, how much that means to me, and what a gift it is.

There's so much more I could say. So much more I want to say. My sister is amazing and my best friend. I'm blessed to have her in my life.

*Brought to you by Love Thursday.*

Compliments

2006-10-11T16:36:00.000-07:00

I got some new pants this weekend. (thanks Shannon!) They fit me and are not too big on me. I received several nice compliments today and was asked how many sizeds I had dropped.

Three.

I have dropped:
20
18
16

I now fit into 14s. I can hardly believe it. I can remember when I was at my highest weight looking at the 14s, and trying some on, and just wanting to cry because they would barely come around my stomach. Much less zip up or be comfortable.

I have done some very hard work. It's funny, and I think some piece of this is because I exercise, but the weight loss has slowed down. I'm approaching 30 pounds, and it's going more slowly. Which is fine. Because my body feels different, and I fit continually into smaller clothes! My body is changing. I measured myself on Monday, and have lost 5 inches in the last couple of weeks- almost an inch in most of the spots I measure myself. What a nice feeling.

It's this stuff, these good feelings, that I need to hang on to when I feel done. Burnt. Tired.

Two Weeks

2006-10-09T16:56:00.000-07:00

When you start dieting, you're all gung-ho. You come up with all these ways to do it right. You print out sheets upon sheets of a food journal. You sign up to sparkpeople. You enter your food at least every night, if not as you're eating it. You obsess about both exchanges and calories. You exercise religiously. You swear off of all white carbs. You don't go out to eat because you don't know how and you don't know how many ounces of chicken are in that salad you got. You weigh and/ or measure your food. All. Of. It.

Oh? You don't. Well, I did.

And I started to see results. And they were good. And encouraging. And then I went to the MD, and he told me even better news. And that was encouraging too.

Then it got to be alot. It got old talking about it all the time. It got tiring to write about it. It got exhausting living that way. No matter how many times I convinced myself this was just a diet and at some point in my life, I could stop and it would be fine, I knew that wasn't true. Because the thing is? That I can't stop. If and when I stop, I gain weight. I've done that no less than two times now, and more than anything I don't want to do it again. All those 16, 18, and 20 sized clothes that I packed away? I want them to stay away. So I can't keep going how I'm going, all orthodox and rigid-like, but I cna't stop either.

So I decided. I would let the journaling and calorie counting go. I have a very good idea in my head of how many exchanges I can eat and how to get them in throughout my day. I gave myself two weeks to just do the exchanges in my head. At the end of two weeks I would see how I did. I also took something of a break from blogging on both this blog and my community blog. I just needed a break.

Today was the last day. I was down close to two pounds, which for this point in my journey, ain't so bad. I'm picking back up the pieces I miss- blogging- and for now letting go of the journaling and sparkpeople. I am going to keep a very close watch. If I find either my habits slipping or my weight going in the wrong direction, back to journaling it is.

In the meantime, I have to find ways to live with this. For, well, a long time. For me, this is the first steop. Seeing if I can do it without the journaling and calorie counting. Doing real-life eating sensibly, in my exchanges. We'll see from there.

On another but possibly related note, this blog has been mostly all weight loss all the time. I've had a few non-weight loss (or gain, as the case may be) related posts, but will probably do some more of that. So I can share a little more of my life. Not just the fact that I'm losing weight.

And successfully, at that.

Burnt

2006-10-07T08:31:00.003-07:00

I kind of got burnt on it all. I was writing all of my food in a food journal, plus putting it online so I could keep track of my calories. Keeping track of water drank, food, exchanges, calories, blogging.... it all got to be too much.
So I stopped. Blogging, journaling, etc. I am still eating the way I'm supposed to, for the very most part. There is less accountability, but also less stress. If I didn't stop something, I was going to be done altogether, and that is the last thing I want. Either the journaling went or everything went.
I gave myself two weeks. Two weeks "off" of journaling to see how goes it. Monday is my official check-in, and I'll reassess from there. If I've gained weight, I'm definately going back to journaling. If I've lost, probably not, for now at least. If I'm the same, I have to think about it.

But I have missed blogging. So here I am.

Love Thursday

2006-10-05T16:43:00.000-07:00

Myself. I am trying to learn to love myself.

Love Thursday

Children are not puppies

2006-09-18T18:27:00.000-07:00

I'm taking a break from my regular programming to talk about something near and dear to my heart.

My job has been tough lately. Not just for me, either, but for everyone in my program. We've had alot of disruptions lately- kids who were or were not settled in their foster homes have, for various reasons, had to move.

Our kids, they come with a host of... baggage. Unless you know the kids I've been working with my entire career, it's hard to understand their baggage. Hard to comprehend the effects that abuse and neglect actually have on children. Hard to have a full grasp on the lives these children actually lead.

We tell our foster parents time and again what to expect and what not to expect. Over and over and over- they will act out. This is no reflection on you or these kids feelings for you. We tell them that these kids? Are not going to be grateful. They're mostly not at a point in thier lives where they can be grateful for the circumstances that have led them to live in your home. May they be grateful at some point? Yes, possibly. However, please don't expect them to be grateful. Then you won't be disappointed. Please expect them to destroy your property, disrespect you, be angry, be depressed, etc etc.

It is one thing to hear these things in a training and quite another to live them. I'm well aware of that. I don't live the life of a foster parent, yet. But do I know my kids? I do.

It always breaks my heart when our foster parents let our kids down yet again, and then turn it around onto the kids. When they tell a 12 year old boy they'll stick with him until he's independent, and then 9 months later decide he's just too much. Because their parenting skills just were not strong enough. When they tell an 8 year old boy that they can't keep him anymore. Because they're just tired of his neediness. When a nine year old boy has to leave because, well, he's aggressive, and his parents are scary.

Do I understand the foster parents decisions? Most of the times, yes. Does it still break my heart? All of the time, yes. I also understand that the parents hearts are often broken as well. That they often feel like they have failed. My heart hurts for them as well. I don't want people to look at this as an indictment on foster parents. I adore foster parents, they do a very difficult and very necessary job. They are some of the best people on earth. I greatly value them. I'm just expressing my frustrations. Because I'm one of the people who helps try to pick up the pieces after another disappointment.

But the children? They are not puppies. They are not a breed that didn't work well. They are not new clothing, that you want to return because you're tired of it, or because it doesn't fit anymore. Love is not enough for them. They require a commitment and alot of hard work, emotionally and otherwise. Be ready for them. Please. The love they require is unconditional, a love that most of them have never known.

Love Thursday

2006-09-14T18:56:00.000-07:00

I was in a wedding this past weekend. The bride is one of my best friends. This is them, in the limo, on the way to the reception.

New Love.

Brought to you by Love Thursday

Clothes

2006-09-04T16:08:00.000-07:00

I have the weirdest wardrobe. I have a TON of clothes, in sizes 10-20. I have very few things (1 or 2) in 10, a TON in 12-16, and some in 18-20.

I cleaned out my closet today. I had a ton of clothes at my mother in law's, and I brought them home. I took out all the stuff that is too big- it was nice trying on clothes that were all falling off of me. They all went into a bin in the bottom of my closet. I know you're supposed to give them away, but I'm not going to yet. I have my reasons. All the stuff that is too small- and there wasn't a TON- also went in the bin. The stuff that fits, or will fit soon, stayed in my closet.

It's a good, good feeling. I don't have to buy clothes because I'm outgrowing my clothes anymore. If I stayed on the path I was on a few months ago, I would have to be buying winter clothes that are bigger. It's nice knowing I don't have to. A very, very good feeling.

Also? It's kind of like having all new clothes. Some of these clothes have tags on them, because I bought them and then outgrew them. Some of them I only wore a few times. All of them I haven't seen in a long time.

I like it.

The Irony of it All

2006-09-01T18:40:00.000-07:00

Since I lost 22 pounds, met my first goal, and won the Biggest Loser competition at work, I decided I deserved a meal "off".

I had other rewards. I am planning a new exercise outfit, and bought some new Firm videos. I'll be getting a new outfit from my sister (I also won that challenge). So there's lots of positive reinforcement, icing on the cake of lowered insulin.

But I wanted a chance to, er, cut loose. Eat one of the foods I have stayed away from studiously for three months. I was telling a friend at work about this, and she said, "You haven't cheated once?!!?" I have. One night we had fast food, then I had some wings at my friends, and when I was visiting my mom I was horrible. Oh, and I didn't do great on our anniversary weekend and I did go to Olive Garden and splurge. But in all reality, that's not bad for three months.

I thought and thought about what I wanted my meal to be. Did I want to go to Pizzeria Uno and get one of my favorites: app of shrimp and crab fondue, split a pizza, and the peanut butter dessert? Did I want to go to Olive Garden? How about a good steakhouse? Maybe I want to go to our favorite seafood place and get Lazy Man's lobster. Maybe just a yummy fast food meal? The choices! They seemed endless!

Then I thought of the perfect reward meal. My two favorite foods: pizza and brownies. We'd order in a pizza and I'd make brownies. I was very excited about this and told my husband. I went and bought the brownie batter. I was ready.

Made the brownies. When the batter was ready, I had a spoonful. Then another. Then I felt sick. Never mind, I'll just bake the brownies THEN I'll eat the whole pan. That will be good. The brownies smelled so good while they were baking. I however did not want to eat anymore.I was feeling kind of full from the batter.

So I had a small piece when they came out. Then I hung out and watched a movie. A few hours later, I decided I was ready for pizza. Should I order cheezy garlic bread? Of course! I did. The pizza arrived, and I was ready to Dig. In. I had two small slices of bread. Then I had one slice of pizza. It was delicious. Greasy, and cheesy, and just right. Then I had another, choosing a smaller slice. After that I started feeling a little nauseous. What was wrong with me?? What's going on? I can eat at least four pieces of pizza, and since this is the only time I'll get to eat it for another three months I need to Dig In! Eat half the pizza! I reached for the smallest slice left. And ate it. And realized there was no way I was eating any more.

I told my husband I would stay up a little while longer so I could eat the rest of the brownies and make the brownie sundae I was planning.

My stomach is tellinhg me otherwise. The thought of another brownie makes me nauseous. I just can't do it.

On the one hand? I'm thrilled. Seriously- it's like built in self-control. Even when I'm pushing myself to eat more, I just can't. I have no desire for it. I am thinking, "Grilled chicken with some rice and veggies would have been awesome tonight." what is wrong with me???

what's wrong with me is I have given my body the privledge of healthy eating for three months. It likes it. My body likes the way it works and feels when I eat healthy. I like it too.

The irony? When I want to eat crap, I can't. If you don't get it, this blog is not for you.

My Family

2006-08-31T04:45:00.000-07:00

Today is Love Thursday again.

This is a picture of my immediate family- my husband, and my cat. I took this when she was a bitty kitten, and so fuzzy and cute. She's still a kitten to me, but isn't quite as fuzzy anymore. My husband's not quite as fuzzy right now either. ;)

Moving On

2006-08-28T16:40:00.000-07:00

Three months ago, on or about May 29 or something, I weighed myself. I was 211.8. Today I weighed myself. 189.4. That is twenty-TWO point four pounds gone. When I do my Firm videos, and I have the two ten pound weights on my shoulders, and think of how heavy they are, I used to carry that weight around with me all. day. long. All day. No wonder I was so tired all the time.

So now that I have met goal #1, I'm moving on to goal #2. Which is another 20 pounds by 11/29, the date of my next Sugar Doc appointment. I have a feeling these 20 will be harder, but I am ready and up for the challenge. Here we go again!

I did it.

2006-08-27T06:29:00.000-07:00

I set my first goal to be 20 pounds by the next time I see my Sugar Doc.

I saw him on Friday.

On my scale at home, I weighted 190.8. That was 20.8 pounds LOST. Gone. Finite. Adios. Buh-bye. I was so excited that I jumped up and down and quietly shouted (someone was still sleeping). Then I got ready to go do the Sugar Doc.

I arrived and they took me back to take my blood and the moment of trust arrived. Last time I got on their scale the tech said "210". Friday? Friday was grand. Friday, the tech said "188". Music to my ears. lalalalalaaaaaaaaa. Even better than I thought. I was very excited. But more moments of trust were waiting. I had to see if the 22 pound weight loss (20 pounds, depending on which scale you're using) had lowered my insuling. Last time I was there it was 59.

So. I go into the waiting room and wiat for my doctor. He comes in, writes for a while. He says, "So you lost 12 pounds". I think I said, "Look again buddy". He had read the 210 as 200. I corrected him, and he told me I did a good job. He handed me my labs, and next to insulin it said 14. I said, "Is this MY insulin? 14?" He smiled and told me yes. I almost got up and did a little jig.

It felt so good. So, so, so good. It made not having Dairy Queen or Dunkin Donuts all summer long worth it. It made all the salads worth it. It made weighing every. single. meal. worth it. All the sleep I lost because I got up to exercise? Worth it.

It was icing, really. Because the feeling better, having more energy, having clothes fit, not feeling like crap all the time, getting compliments, wearing smaller sizes... those have all been fantastic. But I guess- well, those are the icing. The real benefit is that my health is better.

I was so nervous. What if my insuling wasn't lower? What if I hadn't lost the 20 pounds? What if it was 19? What if he told me it wasn't enough? What if, what if, what if I failed?

But I didn't. And my sugar doc said the one thing that I have been thinking- "this tells me you can do it". It DOES. This tells me I can have the discipline to make the right choices, bottom line. I'm stronger than my emotions and my impulses. I can make the right choices.

This feels good. And it's time to move onto my next goal.

Love Thursday

2006-08-24T19:59:00.000-07:00

Love Thursday has been declared. I'm in. Click on the link, read the comments, click on those links... this is grand. If you blog, play along.

Today

Love Is:

My niece and nephew. Brother and Sister.

Consequences

2006-08-22T17:15:00.000-07:00

So. Turns out that what I eat, and whether or not I exercise, actually has consequences.

Yes, I know. If I haven't figured that out by now, what is the point? Really, though?

These consequences, they can be positive or negative. Like, when I follow my 'xchange, and exercise, I lose weight. And when I don't, I either don't lose or I gain weight.

One time, I wrote this long post about how I hate when people say, "Just eat right and exercise". I still hate it when they say that. I think it's ridiculously insensitive. Like 99% of people who are overweight haven't already thought of that, and tried, more than once. More than 10 times. I stand by the fact that losing weight is much more of a mental game than a behavioral one.

See, I do know that what I choose to do has consequences. But that doesn't always mean I make the right choices. Why is that?? WHY?

I went away to see my mom this weekend. From departure to arrival and back again, I ate crap. I didn't exercise. I could have walked, or actually done a video, or SOMETHING. I chose not to. I gained three pounds. THREE pounds. I was almost at my goal. Then, before I left, I was at my goal (but it doesn't count because it wasn't a monday. Please don't ask.) Then, I came back, and I weighed myself. And I was up three pounds and two pounds away from my goal. dammit.

Not only did I gain weight, but I felt like CRAP. I'm not kidding. I had no energy. My stomach hurt. I was moodier. I got lazier and lazier. It really, really sucked.

Am I beating myself up? For once, no. I'm moving on. I have done great the past two days. I'm bound and determined not to let one weekend kill me. It's not the occasional weekend that put on the extre 80 pounds that I carry around, it's the belief that one weekend turns into months and years. This time? I'm not letting it. I'm looking for those positive consequences, instead.

Also? You guys, I see the old Sugar Doc on Friday. I had my blood drawn last Thursday (before my mom's) and I'm nervous. Not only do I want him to tell me my insulin has gone down significantly, I need him to tell me that. I'm scared of how I will react if it hasn't. I hope, and will work towards being ready for either news, and towards having either news motivate me to keep going. But still. That's easier said than done.

The Tunnel

2006-08-09T18:15:00.000-07:00

Two of my favorite bloggers wrote recently about weight. Yvonne talks about being at the end of her rope. Amanda talks about her gastric bypass, which she's very happy about.

They are two vastly different posts both about weight.

They both made me think of the tunnel. If you read Yvonne's post, and the comments, I commented about a tunnel.

Weight loss can seem like a tunnel. You know that phrase, "the light at the end of the tunnel"? It's one of hope. The light is supposed to create hope- there is an end to this experience. I think that in weight loss, when you start you start for a reason. Because you're at the beginning of the tunnel, where it's very very black. You start to lose because something has motivated you to finally change your habits and make changes about how you are living and how you look. I think for a lot of people, this beginning of the tunnel (or bottom of the barrel, or rock bottom, or lowest place) can be either a monumental event or a small one. I have had two. The first time was when I could no longer fit into my "fat pants". They were so tight on me that I had to change beteween work and an evening activity- I had to go to Old Navy and buy sweats so I could be comfortable. That was was started my first go-round with Weight Watchers and somewhat successful weight loss. The second moment was less of a specific moment in time and more of an accumulation of doctors visits during which no less than four doctors told me I had to lose weight or I was at very high risk for several medical conditions. After the fourth doctor, I decided it might be time to take it seriously.

The first time I lost weight, I had a big goal. 80 pounds. I got to thirty five before I just quit. I just got so tired. I was tired of counting points. I was tired of thinking all the time of what went into my mouth. I was tired of struggling to exercise. I was tired of dealing with plateaus. I was tired of talking about my weight all the time. Tired of going to weight watchers meetings. Tired of being held accountable by everyone about what I ate.

I got to the point of the tunnel where the darkness had begun to recede and so it didn't seem so bad, but the light at the end of the tunnel was very, very dim. It wasn't bright enough for me to believe I could reach it.

That was the worst part. And that time, I just gave up. I stopped counting. I stopped being accountable. I stopped trying. And I gained back around 5o pounds. Right now, that I'm back somewhere in the tunnel (not the halfway point, closer to the darkness than the light) I'm so pissed that I gave up last time. I know why I did it and I forgive myself for it. But I'm sad I did. I'm sad that all that hard work was essentially wasted. I'm sad that I gave up on myself.

I can't guarantee that won't happen again. I am a food addict, after all, prone to relapse. But i am going to try very hard not to. I am going to try to keep these habits with me and keep moving towards the light. I know what it feels like to get closer to my goal then move far, far away from it. Barring pregnancy, I'd like to not have the scale move up like that again.

My heart breaks for Yvonne. And for Amanda. And for all of us who struggle with this. Because it is so painful, and effects so much of our lives and who we are. And it never feels done. As Amanda said, she didn't have brain surgery- so while her body changed, her brain didn't. And alot of what we struggle with has much more to do with our brain than our actual bodies. It helps to be able to put my feelings somewhere. And say to whoever's reading- this is HARD. It's fun when I have losses, but it can still be hard to have to worry about it everyday. I am LOVING the payoff right now. But I can't even think about or consider this being a "lifestyle change" because that continues to be far too overwhelming. If I pretend it's just a diet, and hope it turns into a lifestyle, great. But the thought of dealing with this for the rest of my life- well, I just can't go there. I have to take the tunnel one day at a time.

coughsorrycough

2006-08-02T17:56:00.000-07:00

The other day, my sister said in a somewhat accusatory tone, "You don't blog anymore".

There's not real reason other than time. I haven't had a ton of it at home lately, and well blogging falls away.

As far as the weight, I'm up to a 15.4 weight loss. This is HUGE. I've waved goodbye to the 200s and have less than five pounds to go before my first goal of 20 pounds by the time I'm back with the Sugar Doc. I cannot wait to tell him I've lost 20 pounds.

Here's what I want to tell you today: I have changed my mind about something. Once, or maybe twice I've talked about hating exercise (listen, I'd link to them but... I just can't figure out how to do it easily right now and am tired). I really, really, really hate(d) exercise. Sweating? For the birds? Getting up early? For suckahs. Um, all that has changed. Since something like March, I've been doing the Firm videos. And I haven't stopped, since I started. If I do say so, this has been the longest EVER that I've stuck with exercise. I look forward to it in the morning. The days I take "off" I don't feel as good, I have less energy, and I kind of wish I had exercised that day.

I think maybe I've been transported to an alternate universe, maybe? I am the girl who will use any excues to not exercise. I mean ANY. Bad hair day? Skip it Too tired? Eh, sleep's more important. Got a zit? Don't want to get sweat on my face! Exerised two weeks ago? Want to let my muscles rest. Now? I Like it. yes. I have now said that outright. I. Like. Exercise. (this kind of exercise. Let's not get crazy. not all kinds. This kind.)

I have MORE energy than I used to. I feel more energized and awake on the days I work out. I feel like I can more around more easily. Went to a major zoo this week, and had zero problem walking around ALL DAY. I wasn't dragging, I wasn't wanting to complain, I was just enjoying being outside in the 9trillion degree heat and walking. AND I had worked out that day! The craziness just doesn't stop.

There we are. Stay tuned to hear about some of the other changes going on over here in less of paige. I'm sorry for the absence.

Improvement

2006-07-16T19:25:00.000-07:00

In the past, if I did good for a while, onece I made a mistake or "backslid" for a meal or a day or a week, I never picked myself back up.

This past week the backslide started on Thursday. Went out to dinner with friends and good have made a healthy but yummy choice about food, but instead made the yummy and unhealthy choice about food. It was good, but... I could have done better and done fine. I know that now after having alot more successful eating out experiences.

Then, on Friday, after we got the new car, my mother-in-law called and asked us if we wanted to go to dinner. Yes. But the place she wanted to go... not the best for me. Nor did I make the best choices. I tried, but...

Saturday came. Dinner came, and no food out of the freezer for dinner. I suggested fast food and literally talked my husband into it. I wanted it. I wanted a cheeseburger, curly fries and a milkshake. I got it, and a 1900+ calorie day. Whoops.

But today? I did good. I exercised, and ate well. I am back on track, and this time, I know I will stay there.

I'm not saying I can never eat a cheeseburger. Once in a while, a break is ok. But also? I have to remember that just eating out is NOT an excuse for eating crappy. I have done SO much better about that, but I have to keep reminding myself.

We'll see how the scale reprimands me tomorrow.

Go me! It's my birthday!

2006-07-10T17:29:00.000-07:00

Weeelll, ok, it's not, really. But it almost feels like it. I got on the scale today... I was down 3.2 pounds for a total of 11.4 in the past six weeks. I'm SO EXCITED.

A couple of things I'm noticing.

~My core and boobs (of course) and cheeks (the ones in my face) have lost inches and are getting thinner. Yeah! My legs and arms? The same inches. However, I am noticing more definition in them. I want the inches to go though!

~Today, at work, the girls were asking how much I had lost and saying they noticed and how good I looked. It felt REALLY nice. People were noticing, and I felt wonderful. That was nice. More than nice.

~I have more energy. I'm dragging out of bed in the morning for some reason, but I don't feel tired. all. the. time. like I used to.

~I have to stay away. Remember my thoughts that eating poorly is my drug? I am sober right now, that's how I feel. I have to stay sober in order to stay sober, you know? No binges.

~I can live without Dairy Queen, Dunkin Donuts, and Starbucks. Oh, and pizza. It seems like a miracle to me, but it is true. I KNOW. But I promise, it's true. I don't remember the last time I had any of them. Scary, I know.

~I can eat out and make healthy choices. This comes as one of the biggest surprises to me. I can go to a restaurant, and sometimes even a fast food place, and chooce healthy foods. People may make fun of me for having to choose what I eat before I get to the restaurant, but that helps. Then I know exactly how many calories and exchanges I'm eating. Also? On Friday we went out to eat and I made good choices, stayed in both my exchanges and calories, and it was gooood.

Look at me go.

Summer

2006-07-05T16:16:00.000-07:00

I'm sure my plethora of faithful readers have been wondering where I am. I know my e-mail inbox has been overflowing with concerned queries.

Fear not. I've been having summer. In the proces, I have lost... a few pounds since I was last here. I have been eating really well, with the exception of the few days we were in Cape Cod, and one day this past weekend. Otherwise, the 'xchange and I are getting along swimmingly.

So yes, we spent our two year anniversary on Cape Cod. It was wonderful. I loved it and did not want to leave. We came home and two days later my adorable niece and nephew came for the weekend. I cried when they left.

Here are some pictures.

Us, at our anniversary dinner. 2 years!

There are shacks on the dunes at the tip of Cape Cod. People live in them.

the beach.

Us at the beach

the dunes

I would love to share pictures of my niece and nephew, but alas, blogger hates me and does not want me to share these pictures. So I will another day. I have no other vacations longer than a weekend so hopefully I will not neglect my blog like this again soon.

Community

2006-06-20T17:19:00.000-07:00

I have, pathetically, lost weight several times. I lost it once when I lived far away, in California. I had nothing better to do than lose weight. My roommate had moved out and gotten married (that's the wrong order, but whatever), I had no pets, my boyfriend and family were across the country. I worked an hour away. I had nothing better to do than to go to the gym on my way home, plan healthy lunches and eat Lean Cuisine every night for dinner. I went to bed at about 1o when my shows were over.
But I was bored and lonely. I got skinny, and did it mostly on my own. When I moved home, I gained weight again, and brought us to weight loss # 2.
I came home. I was engaged, and that's why everyone thought I lost weight (you know, to fit into my wedding dress.) I contend it is not why I lost weight. I had a pair of pants that were my "fat pants". One day, I had a nighttime training to go to after work. My fat pants hurt so much that I had to go to Old Navy and buy sweats to wear to the training. I joined Weight Watchers that weekend. This time I had the support of my husband and sister to help. There was also a friend at work losing weight through WW, and she was a huge inspiration for me. I had some community around me.
I tried again in Jan 05. That didn't last long. Tried again from about Nov 06- March 06... not real seriously though.
Now we have this time. And there is one piece that I have noticed that is different- I have become more open about my feelings about my weight and my struggle to lose weight. And in doing that, I have found that there are far more people who feel the same way than I ever thought possible. I have this blog, where I am encouraged by comments. My sister reads and checks how my progress is going. I have this other blog, where the community feeling is just amazing. Everyone at work knows that I'm working on losing weight. Family knows. I've not made it a secret. If I prevail - when I am successful- I will do it in public. If I fail, it will be in public.

When I started my blog, some of the girls I know from a message board, who have turned into good friends, commented on the fact that I was putting this all out there. I still think it's one of the best things I've done regarding weight loss. I want people to know that they're not alone. So many people struggle with this. And if it's not weight loss, it's something else. I need to know that I'm not alone. Weight loss, and weight gain, and weight issues, and food and eating issues, can be so isolating if we let them. I've spent a lifetime not talking about how I feel about being fat and having trouble with my weight. It's so nice to get feedback. It's so nice to know I'm not alone.

Some days I struggle with the fact that this blog can be so. damn. boring. All weight talk, all the time. But it remains important to me- the main goal of my blog is to journal my weight loss journey, and to share it if people are interested. If they are, I hope that what people take is that they aren't alone. There is someone who struggles with this every damn day. The added benefit I've gotten? Is knowing that I am not alone. Everyone who's commented, here, and the girls on our other blog, have helped me know that I'm not alone.

If we can all figure that out, I'm thrilled with the blog. Good writing, bad writing, boring, interesting aside. If we can all feel some community, what a great bonus for being honest with the big bad compassionate internet.

The Skinny Folk

2006-06-14T18:05:00.000-07:00

Since growing up and losing some of my naivete in life, I have had a philosophy that carries me far in terms of compassion.

It is this: Everyone has things they struggle with or that are hard for them in life. To me, it may seem huge or petty. To them, it is important and something they struggle with. It is not a competition, each person's struggle is their own.

I'm not sure I said that right. What I mean is, that I tend to feel like my weight loss issues are huge. And when I see someone who looks skinnier than me, initially I have very little compassion when they whine about weight. I always think, "yeah, well, try being me." When I think about it some more, I let myself think, "Hey Paige. Try being them." There's no knowing what people's self-image is. There's no knowing why unless you talk to them and get to know them.

Lisa left a comment the other day that struck home with this. About the skinny girls at college eating toilet paper then drinking water so their tummies would feel full. That about broke my heart. Because while I have in the past had a crappy self-esteem, and still struggle with my body image... I have never had to go to such lengths to look good. Somewhere I have had enough sense of self that I know that even if I weigh 221 I am still a good person. I still am pretty in my own way and who I am hasn't really changed. When you get to the point that you have to eat toilet paper to look pretty, I feel tha something there is so damaged. And it's just heartbreaking. Heart wrenching.

When I see a thin person, my first feeling is resentment. Next is jealousy. These feelings are just intensified when I see a thin person eating fattening food, seemingly at ease. When I start thinking about it though, I remember: I don't know what's actually going on with them. Maybe they are just think with a naturally high metabolism. But maybe they have other things going on that I don't have to deal with.

I have my major issue, and to date it's my weight. For me, my issues with weight and food can be at best minorly annoying and at worst, hearbreaking and overwhelming. But I could have more difficult problems. I could have less difficult. Each person has their own, this is mine. I don't want to keep judging people who don't seem to have my problem, because chances are I don't want theirs.

I guess this is my way of reminding myself to both keep some perspective (eating toilet paper) and having some compassion (every... problems.. what is going on for someone that they feel the need to eat toilet paper??)

Thanks for the reminder Lisa.

Food Rehab?

2006-06-12T16:39:00.000-07:00

Today I was thinking. I have more than once likened my food journey to an alcoholic's.

Today I had a moment. I was at a client's house and she asked if I'd like some leftover birthday cake. I responded, "No, thank you." Are you sure? "Yes, I'm sure. Thank you anyway."

This followed offers today of, "I'll treat you for lunch", "Come upstairs and get food!", "I'm bringing the brownies down", "Half a brownie won't kill you", "Have a little macaroni and cheese, that would be ok".

I said no no less than six times today. By the end of the day, it was getting harder.

At the last time, at my client's house, (she was contemplating the cake but decided on a cheese stick for now), I thought to myself how great it would be to be able to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Much like I imagine an alcoholic would like to be able to drink whenever they wanted, without losing control.

I wish sometimes that I could go to food rehab. If only so that for a little while I could be around people who only have to make choices about food, daily, or they will get fat. I won't have to be around people who can eat whatever they want. People who are teeny tiny but complain. I feel like that would be so nice. So comforting. So much easier. It's easier to do what everyone around you is doing.

But I was at my client's. And I had the moment of wishing. And then it passed. And I thought, "well, I can't. Or I'll get fat." And in my head I moved on. And then I thought how great it was that I could do that.

Is this what they call acceptance? Is that one of the part of AA? Accepting who you are? I have to make choices about food. I have to plan my day out. I have to stay away from certain foods because they are the gateway into overeating for me. This is the reality, it is who I am. I think I may be starting to accept this about me.

Fast Food

2006-06-11T12:09:00.000-07:00

Today we were hungry for lunch. So I said, I'll get a salad! I can do this! Yes. I can.

We went to Wendy's. I got the Southwest Taco Salad, and then instead of their sour cream I used my fat free sour cream. Switched their ranch for a reduced fat ranch. Pulled all the beans out (cuz I hate beans). Anyways. Overall, the salad tasted yummy. As I said to Khalil, "I could have done better, but I definately could have done worse.

Here's the problem. I posted onto Sparkpeople the salad, etc. And looked at my calories for the day. Yes, I can do ok for the day. I won't be completely within my exchanges, but close. I'll be pretty well in my calories.

As long as I don't eat any thing else, until dinner. No fruit and veggie snacks for me. I'd do even better if I skipped my milk at dinner (I won't).

The overall message is this. Yup, I can eat fast food once in a while. No, it's not the end of the world. Yes, I pay for it by not being able to eat the healthy calories in my diet.

This is why I like my 'xchange. No, there's not alot of room for fast food salads. If I was doing something with more flexibility, I know that I would not eat nearly as much fruits, wouldn't be drinking milk, etc. My choices would be much, much different on a daily basis. I need structure. That's how I do best.

Change of Plans

2006-06-10T05:14:00.000-07:00

The plan this weekend was to go away for the weekend. My friend who is getting married lives six hours away, and my plan was to go to her house for the weekend. She was having a putting-together-favors shindig, and I was going to help.

She called me about twenty minutes before I left to tell me that, "Change of plans. I have to go have my appendix out." I made sure she was ok, made sure she didn't want me to come up to be with her, then told her I'd call her in a few days.

My first feeling, before the disappointment set in? Was relief.

I have been very nervous about this weekend. When I'm home, in in total control of food. If I make a bad choice, it's because I wanted to. Since I started back on the 'xchange, I haven't wanted to. I've been making really good choices. I was was so scared to go away and have a hard time.

If I get frustrated with my choices, I give up very quickly and just say, "I'll start again on Monday" and then Monday becomes six weeks, or six months, or a year later. I, once again, feel like an alcoholic. Like someone who has been controlling their environment so they are less tempted. And like someone who was nervous to be in a tempting environment- feeling like I don't have enough conrol over my addiction yet to be away. I know that sounds drastic, but it's exactly what I was feeling.

I didn't want to have to figure out breakfast. What if she didn't have things I could eat? What was I going to do when they had pizza? When we went out for chicken wings? How do I figure out how many chicken wings makes two ounces of chicken? Would she have enough fruit? (I actually had some fruit packed for myself.) Would there be any veggies I could snack on? The questions were making me crazy. I tried going in to it thinking, "I'll just make good choices." But that's often easier said than done for me.

I didn't feel ready yet an open weekend of making good choices. I'm doing so well with the structure I have, I wasn't ready to leave it just yet.

So. I'm very sad- I was so looking forward to this weekend and some friend time. I've been missing being with a good friend, even just for a little while. I'm disappointed, but also relieved in some ways. I hope that I can figure this stuff out. I want to keep losing weight and there are - so far- six other weekends I'm going away this summer, into September.

Salad, anyone?

What Sucks

2006-06-07T20:01:00.000-07:00

Is having reaaaaaaaally good gossip. And not being friends with the one person you want to share it with.

The First Week

2006-06-05T16:00:00.000-07:00

So.

I have completed the first week or so of being back on the 'xchange.

Not too bad. I had headaches the first few days, and then today. All weekend long they were gone- I'm wondering if they're actually food related, or if they're work related!!! Who knows?

I am LOVING the feeling of not being overstuffed. I have learned that I really just can't trust myself to tell me when to stop. I need to weigh food so that there is an outside force telling my body, or brain, "We've had enough now, we have what we need to live off of. Thank you for the nutrients". Usually my tongue is in command, "Thank you! This is great! I need some more! I'm the boss- give me more!!!" But now, with weighing and measuring food, my tongue is in check. Well, in what I eat anyway.

I got through an entire weekend and stayed on track. That is a feat that no matter how good I have done, I have never done, I don't think. Weekends are hard for me, but I actually managed to do really well! It helped that Khalil was behind me and helped keep me accountable.

And, the best part of it all, I lost FOUR pounds!! I feel skinny already.

Changes. Again.

2006-06-01T18:01:00.000-07:00

Today after I ate dinner, I said to my husband, "My stomach feels weird."
He said, "It's called hunger".

Usually after dinner, my stomach does feel weird. Usually it's called "overeating".

While it actually wasn't hunger, my stomach did feel weird. My whole body has taken some getting used to this whole new eating habits thing. Even though I've done this before and I know how it works, I know the drill, that doesn't make it easier... it just means I know what to expect. I know that I'll have a headache the first few days. I know that I'll have an iron will for a little while, because I'm scared that one slip-up will be the end for me. I know that overall, while I may have a headache and feel weird, I will be feeling better. I will have more energy and be less sluggish. I also know that in a few weeks, 2 oz of meat won't feel so small. Also, I know that in a few weeks, if I try to eat more than that, I will feel sick to my stomach. What actually are approprite portions will begin to feel like appropriate portions to my stomach as well.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not starving. I'm actually pretty comfortable. But when you're so used to overeating, normal eating feels, well weird.

On other eating fronts. The other night, I thought, "Then I'll go to bed. So I don't eat anything else". That is so sad. I feel almost lucky that I have been working such long hours. I haven't had the ability to snack- as long as I stay away from fast food and coffee joints. It makes everything easier. While I am looking forward to the weekend for the weekend sake, I am dreading it in a way too. It's two full days where I'll likely have to cook for myself (not dinner) and I will be home most of the time. It will be an exercise in willpower and distraction. I want very much to do well. It amazes me sometimes how much time I spend in one day eating. No wonder food sometimes felt like my best friend. I spent all day with food. It was in my mouth when I was hungry, which I didn't give myself the opportunity to be often, and when I was bored, or upset, or happy, or wanting to connect with someone, or feeling lonely, or when someone else was eating, when Khalil was home, when he wasn't, while driving.... ugh.

I have better things to do with my time. Like blog. Of course.

Starting From Scratch

2006-05-30T16:13:00.000-07:00

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

2006-05-29T16:05:00.000-07:00

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

2006-05-26T17:20:00.000-07:00

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.

2006-05-25T18:41:00.000-07:00

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

2006-05-10T17:19:00.000-07:00

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

2006-05-09T15:03:00.000-07:00

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.

The Big Question

2006-04-28T18:51:00.000-07:00

Do I love food more? Or my body and health?

I know what I SHOULD love more.

But the jury is still out on the honest answer. I know where I'm leaning... actions speak louder than words, yes?

Sometimes God Talks Through The Radio

2006-04-19T19:42:00.000-07:00

Khalil and I (but in all honesty, mostly me) are doing the medical stuff necessary to get ready to have babies. We're not trying now, and we're not pregnant, so don't go there, because that isn't what this is about.

This is a very scary event for me. Our family has some issues, for lack of a better word, that may or may not have some affect on my pregnancies/ children.

The one that is causing me the most... fear, I guess... anxiety? is the birth and death of my niece. She is the middle child of my sister. Her name is Hannah Grace, Baby Hannah to Caleb and Ellie. There's so much I could write about her, but tonight is not the night.

Hannah died of anencephaly- she was born without a brain or skull, only a brain stem. She lived for one precious week.

Hannah's birth and death was the first time I started questioning my relationship with God. I don't think this is a bad thing (the questioning, that is). I think that God can handle questioning and anger- if He couldn't, He wouldn't be worth it. He wouldn't be God.

I didn't understand why He did it. I didn't get why He let her be conceived if he was just going to take her anyway. Why break my sister's heart, and her husband's heart, and crack all of ours? Why? I was pissed. I felt like God was an asshole (He knows I mean no disrespect. Him and I have talked this out). I wondered how I could trust someone, let my life be in the control of someone, who did horrible things, or let them happen.

This was a few years ago, about five and a half. And in all honesty, it's not all resolved. Which brings me to tonight. I have been having a very hard time with this whole "preconception" crap. Tonight, at yoga of all places, I figured out what was going on with me.

I'm scared. And the root of the fear comes in difficulty trusting God. He let my sister have a baby who died- what's stopping Him from letting the same thing happen to me? Huh? Does he really care, about me? About us? Our family?

Tonight I told God this. I told him that I'm still scared to trust Him with this. That I don't like putting this in his hands because I'm not sure what he'll do with it, with our future, with our children. Will he take them away too? I told Him that I want to trust Him, but I need to know how. That I don't understand. That I need help. Please help me. Because if You, God, can't help me, I don't know how I'll get through this.

That's when he talked to me through the radio. Call me naive, call it a weird coincidence, tell me I'm believing something because I want or need to. But I know it's true. I know, in my heart of hearts, that God talked to me through the radio. This song came on:

I'll Stand By You
The Pretenders

Oh, why you look so sad?
Tears are in your eyes
Come on and come to me now.
Don't be ashamed to cry,
let me see you through
Cause I've seen the dark side too.
When the night falls on you,
you don't know what to do,
Nothing you confess
could make me love you less
I'll stand by you,
I'll stand by you,
won't let nobody hurt you,
I'll stand by you.
So, if you're mad get mad,
don't hold it all inside ,
Come on and talk to me now.
And hey, what you got to hide ?
I get angry too
But I'm alot like you.
When you're standing at the crossroads ,
don't know which path to choose ,
Let me come along ,
cause even if your wrong
I'll stand by you,
I'll stand by you,
won't let nobody hurt you,
I'll stand by you.
Take me into your darkest hour ,
and I'll never desert you.
I'll stand by you.
And when, when the night falls on you baby ,
you're feeling all alone ,
You won't be on your own,
I'll stand by you.
I'll stand by you
I'll stand by you,
won't let nobody hurt you.
I'll stand by you
Take me in into your darkest hour
and I'll never desert you
I'll stand by you.
*************************************

I just cried and cried. By the end of the song I could kind of sing with them. But I knew exactly what God was telling me. If you're not sure, go back and read the lyrics again.

I had a new prayer next. It was, "fine, you got my attention. FINE. I'll believe you. I have to. You're right, God, I don't have to get it. I don't have to understand what you were doing with Hannah, or any of the other things. I just have to know and trust that you and your purposes? Are bigger than me. And that you've got it under control. And I have to let you have the control, and rest in you and rest in trusting you. And trust you in an less naive way than I used to- I used to trust that good things would come. Now I have to trust that no matter what happens, you'll stand by me." And that that's really all I'll need.

I told Him, too, that I might try and take it back. You know, the not trusting. But that I'm going to work really hard to leave it with him- the future. And our babies. And pregnancies. And trust that it's ok that He's in control. Because He does love me, He doesn't want to let anyone hurt me, not in that way, and He will stand by me.

Lifetime

2006-04-18T03:56:00.000-07:00

When you do Weight Watchers, they have something called a lifetime member. To be a lifetime member, you have to reach your goal, maintain it for six weeks, and voila! Lifetime member. It means you have to weigh in only once a month and have to stay within like a pound or two or something of your goal weight.

Why am I talking about WW when I don't do WW anymore, you wonder? Because of the point and what it means to me. I was thinking about how not so great I've done in the past week, foodwise. In the past, this would have quickly derailed ALL weight loss efforts. I would say, "eh. I messed up. I think I'll just take a 'break' from dieting that will last six months and cost me another 20-60 pounds".

This time it's different. I'm already a lifetime member. I haven't figured out all the details yet (read: holidays, eating out, and weekends), but I'm working on it. I really, really am. I know that in order to avoid some icky health problems, I have to change my outlook on food.

Forever. For a lifetime. Which kind of puts the screwups in perspective. As long as I maintain my lifetime membership, as long as I keep picking myself up, I think that I'll do ok. I might not lose weight as fast as I'd like. I might now be perfect. I might not do it right all the time. But as long as I keep going, I think I'll be ok. At some point (some point) I'll get to where I want to be. And do my best to stay there. But if I have the room to make mistakes, it's easier to conceive of doing this for a lifetime.

It's like in AA. They say, you're an alcoholic forever. Well, I'm a food addict. And so I need to claim that, and live the rest of my life accordingly. (Not in being a food addict, but living like I'm a recovering food addict.)

Lifetime. It's a long time. But for me? It's so important. There's no breaks. I have to accept who I am, and move on.

Scales and Choices

2006-04-15T05:34:00.000-07:00

The vet scale said I'm down .6 pounds this week. That's POINT six, folks, not six. But it's ok. Because this past week I made alot of choices that were emotionally based. The last few weeks at work have been intensely stressful for me (not uncommon in my field, but there are times when this is alot more than others), and I ate out my stress a couple of times. Thursday it all came down and I went to Dairy Queen for a blizzard, came home and had cookies, then my husband made me a mudslide. (He's not actually an enabler. I needed the break.) At some point I'll be ready to explore how to do things differently next time I have a bad day like that. But on Thursday, I literally didn't have room in my head to make good decisions about food.

I have made some other good choices, though. I've exercised every day this week, even though there have been a couple of days where it's been a struggle and Khalil has been draaaaagging me out of bed in the morning.

I know I still have my ups and downs. I still struggle and make mistakes. But I'm not bailing, and I'm not killing myself. I'm picking myself up, dusting myself off, and moving on. If this is a change for life, it has to be fluid. I can't quit or stop because I have a few days where it's not working for me or I'm not working it. I have to keep going. And I can and will.

Go me.

The Measuring Tape, my new best friend

2006-04-10T05:19:00.000-07:00

I measured today. I lost another 3.5 inches. This is very, very cool. I measure alot- arms, thighs, hops, tummy (in two places) and bust. But whatever, the inches are still GONE!!!

I hopped on the vet scale on Saturday- down 1.3. Last week I was 207.9, this week was 206.6. Not too bad though!!! That's NOT what my wonky home scale told me- it said I had gone from 209.5 last week to 205. Ah well.

I'm still exercising. And liking it. The weird thing? I have now started to feel slugging and icky if I don't exercise. Hmmm....

As for food. M-F overall I do GREAT. A couple of slip-ups here and there, but nothing huge. Saturday and Sunday? I suck. I suck, I suck, I suck.

Remember how I watch starting over, that show? Well, I was catching up this weekend (please be quiet) and one of the life coaches was talking to a girl who is also trying to lose weight (see why I watch?). And the girl was like, I had a couple of cheat days. And her life coach said, "children cheat. Adults honor commitments." She emphasized- even the ones we make to ourselves.

That hit hard. When I make a mess of the weekend, who am I hurting? Not Khalil, not my sister, just me. Just me and my efforts. I need to make a weekend commitment and honor it.

Sorry for the boring update. But that's where we are.

Movin' on Down

2006-04-05T04:15:00.000-07:00

When I started using my new videos, the Transfirmer system, I measured myself. A week later, I did it again.

Down three inches. Now, to be fair, I measured like every part of my body. Not only just my bust, waist, hips, thighs, and arms, but also my thumbs, eyelids, and pinky toes. Hey, every inch counts, right?!!?! Just kidding, about those last three anyway.

Even though the scale is not giving me what I want (I wish I could break it off with the scale, but I just. don't. know. how.), I knew that something in my body was changing. My face is looking thinner (always the first place I lose weight, but my cheeks not my chins, unfortunately). My pants are getting loose- most of them I can get down without unbuttoning. A month ago they were all tight. So I knew there were changes. And the measuring tape confirmed that for me. And it feels oh. so. good.

I have found that the more I exercise (this is going to SHOCK you, it still shocks me) the more ok with it I am. The better I feel. The worse I feel if I don't exercise. I'm getting to the point where if I don't get up and work out, I feel weird. Like, I didn't start my day off right. It's a good, weird, good feeling.

Unfortunately for me, it doesn't exactly work that way with food. I still want crappy food. Like, all the time. I love food, particularly if it's not good for me. However, on the positive, I'm finding that I can eat less of it. When I eat greasy food or fast food, I literally feel sick to my stomach (not while I'm eating, don't be silly. But after). So, while the addiction isn't quite gone, and the cravings remain, I still am making progress.

And it feels oooooooh soo gooooooooood.

Addiction

2006-03-31T06:03:00.000-08:00

I have an addiction. Not to food (well yes to food but that's not what I'm talking about NOW). It's to the scale. I said a few weeks ago I was going to not weigh myself. Hahahaha.

Last week I weighed 207.
This week I weigh 209.

I'm not that upset. For a myriad of reasons. Here they are. First of all, I know my scale is broken. It weighed two three pound dumbells as eight pounds. So I have no idea how it's calculating how much I weigh. If it can't get six pounds right, I'm concerned about it's ability to get all of me right. SO, tomorrow I'm using a professional scale.

Second of all, this week I've done awesome exercising. I've done the Firm three times, did Yoga Booty Ballet once, did my Yoga for Weight loss class. I didn't walk last night, but that due to circumstances out of my control. And? Instead of feeling relieved? I was disappointed. So. Weird. I have a power yoga class planned for tomorrow. Go. Me.

Third of all, I have had some ups and downs eating. I had my "bad" meal on Saturday last week, then I had DQ on Sunday, then this week's "bad" meal on Monday- and that one? was a DOOZY. It was buffalo chicken strips at Friendlys, with fries and a peanut butter cup sundae. I went all out. BUT, but, my friends, I recovered. I didn't let the bad start to my week to keep me in that place. The rest of the week I did really well eating. I plan to keep it up.

Fourth of all, my pants are fitting better. My bras are fitting better. So even though the scale hates me, I know my body is changing. It might be incremental changes, but it means alot to me. It means I know I'm going in the right direction and making good choices.

And so I march on, and finally keep a positive attitude. I'm excited. Despite the scales's evil whisperings.

No Pain, No Gain

2006-03-29T04:28:00.000-08:00

I heard that somewhere stupid the other day- probably MTV. But it's sosososo true. I can't make progress if I don't want to do the work for the progress. Weight loss is not a passive activity. It involves a thousand choices a day. To exercise, or not? To park far away, or not? Choose a healthy place to eat, or Friendly's? Eat the veggies, or not? Drink the water, or not? And on, and on, and on.

I've made some good and some bad lately. Sunday night a friend brought us Dairy Queen for dinner. I LOVE DQ. I had my whole blizzard. It was, um, alot of calories.
Monday night a client wanted to eat a Friendly's. I decided that was my "bad" meal of the week and boy did I go all out. I had buffalo chicken strips, fries, and a peanut butter cup sundae. I didn't finish it, but that's little consolation. I did not feel good Monday night.

But there's some good. For two full days I have drank 9 glasses of water each day. That's HUGE for me. HUGE. I don't really like water (i know, but still), and it makes me pee, but I'm figuring this stuff out. Also, I've now exercised three days in a row. No, make that four, I walked on Sunday. Did the Firm Monday and this morning, and yoga booty ballet yesterday. It feels goooooood to take care of me. Go me.

I'm fully planning to keep up the good work. Because? No Pain, No Gain.

It only took 6 weeks

2006-03-24T06:37:00.000-08:00

But I'm back to 207. Thank the Good Lord Almighty.

Weird. I haven't really lost ANY weight in six weeks. And in one week I lose 4 pounds.

But I'm excited and am just praying that the scale keeps going in the correct direction- that is, DOWN.

My legs hurt!

2006-03-23T15:19:00.000-08:00

I have two things to tell you about: Yoga for Weight Loss and The Firm.

On Wednesday night I took a yoga for weight loss class. I was hoping it would be closer to Power Yoga than it actually was, but that's ok. We all had our mats in a circle, which was different for me. Natalie, the instructor, started off the class by talking about her own stuff regarding weight and food and then asked us to go in a circle, introduce ourselves, and talk about "what's on top" (whatever's going on with you right then). So everyone introduced themselves and some gave a brief history on their weight issues (why is it that there's always a history with this stuff? So sad.) and some just said why they were taking the class etc. I'm pretty sure I said, "Hi I'm Paige and I hate any kind of exercise besided yoga. I thought this class would be perfect.".

And it was. Not because it was some great cardio workout, or because I really felt challenged physically. I didn't. It was basic and I've learned that I'm actually beyond basic in yoga. It was perfect because I felt like I was in a group of women who understood. Where I didn't have to compare myself, I didn't have to try. I was in a community of women dealing with the same stuff I deal with. And there were some insights that I learned, and that was great too.

Natalie made the comment at some point that what we complain most about is what we are actually attached to and have some kind of blockage in releasing. And that it's important to release those things. I 100% agree. I think that for the things that are most difficult or that we whine about, there is something there for us. Something that keeps that cross in our lives. I know that I whine and moan and complain about my weight. But it's always there. And there are some pieces of me that wonder what I will be like if I lose weight. Will people not bother getting to know me anymore, because they don't have to like they do now? Will my husband still be attracted to me- I don't doubt he'll still love me, but will he still want me? What will I look like? Maybe I'd be ugly under all this fat. Those are the real honest truths, and probably the core of why it's difficult to lose weight. I think I've finally hit my stride, but the weight is not just falling off right now. And every other time, in the past, I've given up. Additionally, I'm in denial. I don't want to accept that this is going to be with me for the rest of my life. I have an addiction to, a problem with food. And I don't have the kind of body that can handle that. I eat, I gain. Bottom line. I don't have the high metabolism of the people that can eat whatever they want whenever they want and not gain weight. I have to, at some point, accept that I will have to watch what I eat for the rest of my life if I don't want to be fat forever, and keep getting fatter. It's certainly thoughts to chew on. No pun intended.
****************************************************
I did the Firm this morning- Maximum Cardio Burn plus Abs. Someone I'm really close with who also struggles with weight told me that this was the only video she ever did that made her see body-changing results (the Firm, not necessarily this specific one). So I thought I'd try it.

If I don't see results from that workout, I'm hopelessly doomed. It was great. It was like when I used to take step classes, which I also loved. (that and yoga.) It was hard and I was dripping sweat. But there was not alot of talking (unlike Miss Carmen) and there was alot of working out. Someone warned me that the videos are a bit stepford-wivesish, and they are. The girls have these strange smiles pasted on their faces, which I didn't understand because, Hello? We're working out here?!?! Maybe I was the only one that was dripping sweat and didn't feel like working out. But it really felt great. At some point I have to return the video to Netflix, but I think I'm giong to go to Target or Walmart and find some new videos. And I'll have to invest in a more stable stepstool. The one I have kept falling over. Oh! Speaking of the stepstool- it's a small one, and the cat thinks that it's her own fort. She's always under it. Well, while I was working out was no exception. I had to step on the thing and watch out for her when I stepped off, because she's almost a year old and doesn't fit completely under it, even though she thinks she does. She just loves helping me work out.

Weighty Issues in Blogland

2006-03-21T14:49:00.000-08:00

I read Melissa regularly. She's funny and honest. And real. Today I read this post about weight. I started it at work (shh) but had to finish it at work. Here's where things get a teeny confusing. Because Melissa was writing about another post, this one. Go read both those posts. Then we'll talk.

Are you back?

The whole thing bothers me. Of course it does, because I am fat. Or, if you want to not make people so uncomfortable, I'm overweight. I weigh, at last visit to the scale, 211. I've never been skinny, but I certainly am at my highest ever. I guess I'm lucky, though. Both Melissa and morphing into Mama (MIM) were skinny when they got married. And they both talk about the weight they've gained over the years as a result of getting older, and bearing children, etc. MIM asks in her post whether or not that's false advertising:

“Right. Look, my point is, I work to maintain my figure for myself and my husband. If I had been 160 pounds when we married that would one thing. Then it would be totally unreasonable for him to want me to be 120 pounds. But it would be false advertising if he’d married his 120 pound girlfriend and ended up with a 160 pound wife.”

I have to say, for the first time ever in my whole life, I guess I'm happy that I have never been a small girl. Because my husband knew that I struggled with weight when I married him. He does, too. So I guess if there was going to be "false advertising" in our marriag, it would be that he married someone overweight and she lost alot of weight (we'll see) and now he had a skinny wife instead of a plump one.

Melissa writes about her and her husband. And I think there is a trace of that feeling of false advertising for her too, but I like this sentence:

What's especially amusing is if you asked my husband if he'd want me to be the same person I was at 110 pounds I have no doubt he would say no. He loves the person I am now far more.

In the years since we have been married, I have yo-yo-ed along a continuum of fify pounds. And folks? We've only been married less than two years. But I know that my husband talks about who I was when we first met (insecure, somewhat closed-minded, judgemental) and who I've become, and appreciates the growth. Not the girth growth. But he never complains about the girth growth. In fact, when I'm crying about it, he's telling me how much he loves me, that I've always turned him on, that the weight isn't what it's about.

I guess I'm just grateful that while it's a personal issues for me, my weight has never been an issue in our marriage. The only real thing is that he knows that my weight can make me unhappy and depressed- (I don't gain weight, as MIM suggests, because I lack self-respect and am depressed. I get depressed because I gain weight). And my husband wants me to be happy. So he says things like, "I don't care how much you weight. I'm going to love you no matter what. But I want you to be happy and satisfied, and you're not right now. So I'll support your weight loss efforts". I guess what I don't like is the insinuation from MIM that if one is overweight that one lacks in self-respect.

I know I have problems with my weight. But the only place my self-esteem is low is when it comes to body issues. And that's only sometimes. In other areas of my life, I have very good self-esteem. I do agree that I'm not treating my body the way I should, and that I need to hold my body up in higher regard and take better care of it. And I'm trying.

I don't know. It's a tough one and I guess the bottom line is: we should all be gentle with ourselves and each other. Everyone has their own battles to wage. But I am glad that there was no "advertising" - false or real- when we got married. We knew each other inside and out, and loved each other for who we were. There are alwyas going to be days we get on each other's nerves, and that the things that we love about each other are the things that make us want to throttle each other, but we knew and know who we are, and love each other for it. And we know that we will change, because people do and how boring would it be if we stayed static? Be we love the person, change and all, and support each other. And that's the real bottom line.

Nine Days

2006-03-20T04:09:00.000-08:00

About eight days ago I caught another cold. And there stopped being much to write about here, because I was sick and not exercising and not much was going on. I ate pretty good, but there was still no major weight loss movement.

Today? Today was going to be different! I Netflix-ed a new workout video and I had big plans to sweat while I stripteased!! (Yes, it was Carmen Electra's Striptease. Please Shut Up.) The beginning of the video had Carmen talking. Alot. While I sat on my couch. Don't get me wrong, please. I love my couch. I'm actually a couch potato (hence the blog, you see). But when I'm going to work out, I'm aware that being a couch potato doesn't exactly get me the sweaty results I want. So finally she's done with the beginning and we're going to Warm Up! Which is good because it's still cold in the apartment and I'm chilly and could really use a warm up. Except, except that this is not really a warm up. Oh no. It's a move your head a tiny bit. It was ten minutes of warm-up instruction and then came, "Up next: Routine One Review" and we did the warm-up faster. Well, they did. I skipped it and moved on the Routine Two. Which I tried, really I did. But it was alot more of Carmen talking, and us not really moving. And when I realized that at twenty three minutes in, I hadn't broken a sweat, I decided my time was better spent.

So I turned it off and started blogging. Later this week I'll tell you about my Yoga for Weight Loss class, which starts Wednesday. Someone asked how it yoga for weight loss different from regular yoga. Hopefully on Wednesday I'll be able to tell you.

We Need a New Pill

2006-03-10T20:00:00.000-08:00

One day, I was talking to my mom about how moody I can be. She told me that I'm one of the most stable people she knows, and that I'm not at all moody. I love her, but sometimes it's like she doesn't know me at all.

Granted, she hasn't really lived with me since I was in high school. And after that was really when the moodiness started. I went away to college and spent two of the worst years of my life. When I left that college and moved across the country, people told me I was running away. I knew I was saving my life. And for a while, the move helped. And really, things have never gotten quite as bad as they were when I was in my first two years of college.

But I've always been moody. I go through periods of time when my mood is easier to maintain, the smile and the happiness is quicker and more genuine.

But I go through periods of time where every second is a constant battle. Where, in public, everything is "fine!" and "great!" and "no, nothing's really new". But inside I'm sobbing, and the majority of the real problem is that I have no idea why. I just am. This is why my mom thinks I'm so stable. I really very rarely open that part of myself up to anyone. My sister to some extent, because outside of my husband I'd have to say she's who I'm most honest with.

And my husband. Poor guy. When I get like this, it's a concentrated effort to not snap at him, to not cry, to be alright. He knows. Because I make an effort to be nice, but it doesn't always work. And he knows something's off. And he knows that I'm not really sure what it is. So the best he can do is be really patient with me.

The gray periods always scare me. Because college was so bad, I don't feel like I can ever go back there. And everytime I get down for more than a day or two, I start getting really scared that I'm going to go back there and have to fight the uphill battle back.

Here's the strange thing, that I can't figure out. This week has been incredibly difficult, mood-wise. I've been crying at everything and snapping at everything. Typically my first clue about my mood is when I'm lashing out at strangers and thinking horribly mean things about people. Because my natural disposition is to be compassionate and fair first, at least I think. When that goes away, I know something's really up. I've been down, blue, sad, angry, and teary. Not a great week. But I'm PMS-ing. And I cannot figure out if these moods are just when I'm PMSing. I really don't know.

So when I go to my Ob-Gyn next month, I want to ask her. Is there a pill for people who wig out the week they're PMSing, but overall are ok the rest of the time?? I still haven't figured out if this is the only time I'm down, but if it is, a week a month is a long time to lose.

The thing that is really hard is that when I look back on this week, I'm like, "this week sucked". But really? It didn't. I had some great breakthroughs with some of my clients. I had two "surprise" (last minute) visits with friends that were so fun. Khalil's been great. Not really much has gone wrong. I've eaten well and exercised. The worst thing that happened (actually there are two) was that I locked my keys in the house but ended up not being a big deal at all and I dreamt about my friend who's still not talking to me. But I'm getting used to that. The good outweighs the bad, externally, but internally the bad outweighs the good.

To come, one day: a happy post. really.

Needing a Break

2006-03-10T06:56:00.000-08:00

From the stupid scale.

I weighed in this morning. I weighed like 17 different numbers, but the one I'm sticking with is 211, which is one half of a pound above last week's. Which was up a half a pound from the week before that.

The scale is moving in the wrong direction, and I'm doing everything right. I worked out six days last week, five so far this week and my yoga class tomorrow will make six. I am doing really well with the 'xchange. There has been little to no cheating.

And SO, I'm going to take a break from the scale. I'm going to just keep doing what I'm doing for the next four weeks, and then we'll go from there. If things still aren't moving, we'll have to figure something out. I don't know how long you should try something without it working before asking for help. But I still feel like two weeks of diet and exercise- well it's too soon to ask for professional help, anyways.

The frustrating thing, the thing I reallyreallyreally don't ge, is that it's not like I've always been unable to lose weight. I lost weight. I lost 35 pounds. I did a really good job. But last time I tried the results were dismal, and this time isn't looking so hot either.

The difference? Is that I'm not giving up. Not this time.

This week has been difficult for me. I'm not sure why. I've been in a bad mood most of the week. Any good mood comes following a valiant effort. But it'll get better. I know it will.

So, for those of you who wait with baited breath (hahaha) for my weekly weigh-in, you've got quite a wait ahead of you. Hopefully the results will be good. In the meantime, stay tuned for other fascinating stuff.

Big Changes

2006-03-06T04:26:00.000-08:00

For me, anyway.

In the past, when I got a less than satisfying weigh in, I would eat my way out of it. Very rarely does a gain motivate me to work harder. Usually it motivates me to give. up.

This time, I worked my butt off. I stuck with the plan. I still worked out, I ate right. I stuck with my plan to only eat one bad meal for the week, and I didn't cheat.

In the past, I can finish any meal, no matter what. Just a week ago I finished a full burrito.

This time, I could only finish 3/4.

In the past, setting the chips out would have been irresistible. I would have had to eat them, after all, I'd tell myself, "This is my bad meal. I may as well enjoy the whole thing."

This time, I put the chips out. And recognized that I wasn't hungry and didn't need them.

In the past, I would have rolled over in bed on Saturday morning, turned the alarm off, and said, "I'll do yoga next week."

This time, I got out of bed and got to yoga. Worked my tukkus off there, too.

In the past, when they said in the yoga class, "You're all advanced enough by now to..." I would have hightailed it out of there and thought to myself, "I'm just a beginner. Better luck picking the right class next time."

This time, I thought, "Let's just see how we do." And I did it, and stuck wtih the class.

Yes, if I'm honest, I reallyreallyreally want the scale to change this week. I want it to go down and I will be upset and disappointed if it doesn't.

But this time, no matter what, I'm going to know that I've tried my hardest.

Stupid Friday Stupid

2006-03-03T05:30:00.000-08:00

I'm up .5 this week, to 211.

Am a little bit frustrated, but I'm trying very very hard to just keep in mind, "I'm going to keep up what I'm doing, and next week will be better."

This week I:
Ate well M-Th (and will do good today, too)
Exercised M, W, Th, and F. Will do yoga class tomorrow as well.

Didn't eat well AT ALL over the weekend, didn't exercise. Last week was so-so as far as eating (since I have no food journal from last week, I know it can't have been good.)

So I'm thinking maybe I"m paying for the time before I got back on track 100%. So next week should be better.

It WILL be better. It has to be.

Adjustments

2006-03-01T14:03:00.000-08:00

In the interest of full disclosure, thus far in my "weight loss journey", I have been doing things, um, ahm... *coughhalfassedcoughcough*.

I went in to my husband the other day to talk about Yoga Booty Ballet, my favorite exercise video.
Me: "Hon, did this not work last time cuz it just won't work or cuz I wasn't eating well, do you think?"
Hon: "Probably a little of both."
Somehow, this evolved into a very long conversation about this attempt at weight loss. He's right- last time I lost any good weight, it was right before we got married and even though I denied it, that probably was the reason I lost. It was good motivation, to think about having to have my dress taken in.

We were talking about how I'm actually content this time- no major motivation. The scary thing is, he's half right. I have clothes that fit me. I don't have anything huge coming up. There is no one event that I'm losing for, or looking forward to.

But I have to not have one. Because that's dieting, and it's crucial to my health that I change the way I eat, the way I live. I have to make exercise, as much as I hate and detest it, a consistent part of who I am and what I do. I have to constantly make healthy eating choices. I just have to do it. I started to cry when I told him how scared I am that in a few years, if I don't make changes, I'm going to end up needing gastric bypass. He gave me a look that said you're crazy. When I said, hon, people at my height need it at like 280 to 300 pounds. It's not that far. He said, It's a far cry from 220 to 280.
I laid it out for him:
In May/ June of 2004, when we got married, I weighed about 160.
In January of 2005, I weighed 203 or so. Again.
In January of 2006, I weighed 221. In less than two years, I gained sixty pounds. That, my dear, is the difference between 220, what I recently weighed, and 280. It's not so far away if I don't get my life under control.

Never mind the risk of diabetes. And gestational diabetes. And colon cancer. Diabetes and colon cancer have both been in my family. Risk factors? Obesity.

The cold hard facts are scary, and changes must be made. They have to be.

So for now:
Exercise must be more vigorous that Yoga Booty Ballet. So I will do the Billy Blanks Boot Camp or some other very difficult, vigorous exercise at least three times a week, if I want to do YBB or yoga, good, but it must be on top of, not instead of the more demanding exercise. (I'm not putting down YBB. I LOVE YBB, but it's really not a weight loss plan. More of a toning/ limbering program.)
The Diabetic Exchange must be adhered to, daily. If for some reason (I AM human, folks) I mess up at a meal, instead of giving up the day, I will cross off the meal, act as though I had eaten what I should, and move on with the day.
I can have one "bad" or indulgent meal per week. This means, you guys, that Fridays off are OUT. I only have one meal. Not one day. Because? When I take fridays off, Fridays bleed into Saturday morning, and since I've "messed up" Sat Am, I just take Saturday and Sunday off too. And expect to lose weight by only eating well four days out of the week. No dice.

That's the deal. Adjustments are being made, please look for major movement in the scale. This is going to pay off. It will.

Sad and Amazing

2006-02-27T18:37:00.000-08:00

I read the book, "How to be Lost", by Amanda Eyre Ward. This book was very good.

One thing really stuck with me though, from this book. The book is about a family who deals with the loss of a five year old child. I don't want to ruin the ending, so I won't say anymore. Go read it. The thing that stuck with me was this quote:

“When you are small, if you reach out, and nobody takes your hand, you stop reaching out, and reach inside, instead.”

I've been wanting to write about "my kids" for a long time. There are a myriad of poems, quotes, songs, and books that perfectly describe my kids. But this one rings particularly true. When I talk about my kids, I'm talking about the kids I work with. I'm a foster care social worker- this means I spend alot of time on the phone. No, just kidding-- kind of... I support foster families who have accepted high needs foster children into their home, and I support and advocate for those children. I do both family and individual therapy with the families and kids.

Many families don't understand these children. They've (the kids) been abused, neglected, and most of them have been further traumatized by being in foster care and moving from family to family. Basically, by the time they've connected to a family enough to feel safe, and act out their internal feelings, families decide they can't manage them. So they move. And this happens over. and over. and over.

Don't get me wrong. Foster care is a huge necessity and it can be an amazing force for children when it works. But it's not the best- the best would be for children to be able to be home with their families.

I'm not saying what I want to. I guess what I wanted to say is- I totally understand that quote. It's about rejection. I think we do this, small or not. If we offer something- particularly ourselves or our need- and are rejected, we don't offer again. We figure, we'll be rejected again, I'll just take care of myself.

This is one thing when you are 26. It can be managed, and dealt with. And moved on from. It is quite another when you are 2, or 7, or 12. And you have kept on trying to reach out your hand, and it's never taken. And so you stop reaching it out. This is what most of my children do. That no one understands. They are small children, who have not been able to trust those they should have most been able to trust- and they are reaching inside themselves. Children trying to raise themselves. It's the saddest thing.

I love my job. I love getting to know my children. I love when I can advocate for my children. I love watching my foster parents take care of children and watching them blossom and grow into children who can learn to trust- and they can, most of the time. And that's the most amazing thing.

Community

2006-02-25T13:03:00.000-08:00

When I did Weight Watchers (the first time) something that I found I loved and really helped was having a community of people to lose weight with. If you've ever tried to make multiple attmepts to lose weight, you know how frustrating this journey is. And so it's so wonderful to have people there who truly get it, who will hold you accountable, and be there to hold you up. WW stopped working for me, at least at this point in my life. But I never found another community to support me.

I do have friends and family. As you know, my sister's in this with me. I have WLB, my weight loss buddy. My husband, while not walking the journey with me right now, is incredibly supportive of the journey. Some others. But it hasn't been the same.

But I'm so excited now. I've been cordially invited to participate in an online group of women blogging their weight loss journey. I couldn't be more thrilled. If you're so inclined, come visit us at We Ate It, We Moved It, We Lost It. These women seem incredible. Some are doing amazing and some are struggling. Which is me every day!! I'm mostly excited about the idea and opportunity of a community of women- people- to share my journey with. Thank you, Jules, for the invite. I'm so honored.

It's Friday and I'm not crying

2006-02-24T04:46:00.000-08:00

So that's a good thing, yes??

210.5. Not too shabby. I'm not thrilled, mostly cuz several weeks ago I was 207 and my new pants fit alot better and didn't hurt. But down two from last week? Is a good thing. At least the scale is going in the right direction, sheesh.

So I'm down 11 pounds from the beginning and I'm down 1/2 a pound for The Wager. I'm pretty sure that so far Shannon is winning.

But she needs to watch out, because starting tomorrow the purple book is coming back out and I'm sticking to the 'xchange again. So. There. I still have to August. I want to lose thirty pounds by August and weight 181. :P That's for you big sister. I think I can do it. I need to stop eating ice cream for breakfast, but that starts manana. I can do this.

Who Am I Kidding??

2006-02-23T17:52:00.000-08:00

Do I think that if I eat a donut on the way home and don't tell my husband that I ate it that it doesn't exist? And in the interest of full disclosure, if I don't tell my weight loss buddy that I had McDonald's and chocolates yesterday, does that mean the calories don't count.

Yes, yes I do think that.

I'm kidding myself. And you know who's paying?

Not my WLB. Not my husband. That's right folks. It's me. Yeah me. Go me. I rock.

The saddest thing? While I was shoving the donut in my mouth tonight, I had all kinds of weight loss "mantras" in my head. I thought, "A moment on the lips is forever on the hips" (but the moment on the lips is soooooooooo good). Then I thought, "You don't want the food to control you, you want to control the food" (the food's in control. But right now? I'm loving the control the food has. Cuz it's so damn good).

This week has been frustrating. Which is not an excuse, please don't take it like that. It is to say, don't be thrilled for my Friday weigh-in tomorrow. It won't be pretty. Too much slacking. But next week, I've already talked to my husband about being accountable. The same conversation will happy with my WLB tomorrow. And I will be writing my food down. Me and the 'xchange? Are gonna be friends once again. I'm tired of gaining.

Me 'n Billy

2006-02-22T15:16:00.000-08:00

Oy. That Billy. He's, um, crazy? Psychotic? One of those weird people who likes exercise that I'll never understand. I think I'll go with the latter, it's the least judgemental.

I did spend my 55 minutes with Billy and the "Boot Camp Gang" (I kid you not) this morning. It was, um, fun? No that's not right. Invigorating? Um, still not quite there. Tiring? Yup, yes, that would be the appropriate adjective.

In Billy Blanks Basic Boot Camp you're supposed to have Billy Bands (what's with all the B's??). I don't own Billy Bands because I have to earn the right to buy more exercise equipment by actually exercising consistently. But! You can do the program without Billy Bands. thank God. Because I think I might have keeled over had there been Billy Bands involved.

For those of you not familiar with Billy and his bands, the bands are these stretchy things. They're probably four feet long. You hook them onto your feet (I guess you'd be wearing sneakers, like they do in the video) and hold on to the handles with your, um, hands. Then you do exercises like arm lifts, and kicks, and other crazy things. They look to me like crazy torture devices. And the really really buff chick? She even grunted when using them. So I know I'm not ready yet. There was one other girl not using them, and ironically she was the only one not sweating. I still sweated, in case you were wondering. (Is sweated a word?)

I have decided two things. Actually, it's a three step plan involving Billy. Step one: Get decent at Basic Boot Camp sans Billy Bands. Step Two: Add Bands. Step Three: Be able to do Basic with the Bands. Step four (whoops I guess this is more than three steps. Sorry.): Graduate to Ultimate Boot Camp without Bands. Step five: Complete Ultimate Boot Camp WITH bands. By then I'll be SO buff. No one will recognize me.

So remember the buff girl on the video? When Billy had us do twists, you could see her abs twisting. It was beautiful and scary all at the same time. I want abs like that, but first I want to feel my abs.

Speaking of um, so I got on the scale tonight, and was up 2 pounds from Friday. WTF?? Could it be the french fries I ate today? Could it be the Chinese food? The small pizza from Saturday? UGH. Pray a small miaracle happens between tonight and Friday morning. I can't take another gain.

The Dreaded E-Word

2006-02-21T14:09:00.000-08:00

Yes. This blog? Is all about weight loss. Early in the blog, there are some posts about me going to the gym. As you can see, that didn't, um, last very long. Turns out I didn't really love the classes and I didn't like changing at the gym, it seemed dirty, and I got bored as hell on the elliptihell. Sooo I kind of stopped going, then when I switched jobs we moved far far away from the gym and *phew* that was a good excuse to quit the gym. Because, see, I hate exercise. Hate. Exercise. Sometimes I feel better when exercising, and that keeps me going for several months, however I often get a cold or go away or sneeze and that stops the flow. Then it takes me a year and fifty pounds to go back. At least I'm not the only one who hates it. I don't feel so alone.

But remember January? When I made thenon-resolutions? I believe (I'd have to check) that one of those non-resolutions involved exercise. (The first one? Great.) I had to decide what to do. I decided to use the exercise videos I already have and buy a few more. This way I'd have some variety- see I hate exercise and will use any excuse to not do it, including me being bored. So I'm trying to avoid any available excuses. This way, once I start, I'll keep going! Really! I will!

Then it took me approximately two and a half months to muster up any kind of motivation to exercise. Um, a five pound weight gain in one week combined with me and my weight loss buddy's declaration of "Must exercise on Monday! NO excuses!" got me in front of the TV.

My cat, Rory, she was around to supervise. Which meant that while my video was on, she sat in the middle of the floor exactly where my feet were supposed to be dancing. She made it fun. Ha haha! Did I just say fun? In reference to exercise? I was talking about the cat, not the exercise. The only thing I remotely like that involves sweat is yoga. Well, that you can technically call exercise, anyway. Ahem. Moving on.

I put the video in, and lo! I did complete it. It was 35 minutes long and I didn't actually sweat too much. Good thing, I have sensitive skin. Plus, I really, really hate exercising.

And I have a plan for tomorrow. It involves the early morning (once I come home at night, no matter what time (on Sunday it was 2pm and sorry for the parentheses in parentheses) I head straight for my pajamas and the couch. The most exerting thing I do at night is unload the dishwasher. ) So exercise at night is not an option. Anyway, now I'm all confused by the parentheses, and I bet you are too. Where were we? Oh! The plan: early morning, my cute (read: tight and not fit for public viewing) exercise clothes, and my cat. oh! And a new DVD. This time we're trying Billy Blanks Basic Boot Camp. Sans the billy bands. It's longer- 55 minutes, and from my other experiences with Billy Blanks (I used to have Tae Bo) it will involve lots of sweat. Wish me luck.

If you don't hear from me soon, I've collapsed in a puddle of sweat on the living room floor with my cat. It may be a while before I can walk again. We'll see. If I can, I'll let you know.

Earth Shattering Revelations

2006-02-20T18:21:00.000-08:00

When I'm upset, I make poor, poor food choices. Not sure who I'm trying to hurt or get back at, or hurt, or what, but I really only hurt myself. Obviously.

Am trying. Is hard.

"I'm trying, but it's hard"

2006-02-17T15:04:00.000-08:00

My husband asked me last night, while I was in a snit over nothing, if I was ever going to be done being crabby. I responded, "I'm trying, but it's hard."

I feel like that's my life anthem right now.

I'm trying to lose weight, but it's hard. Turns out? Fondue + lobster + stuffing + apple puff pastry + numerous chocolates at work and at home? Make you gain five and a half pounds. That's right folks. I went from 207 to 212.5 this week. Not that it wasn't worth it, and not that I easily couldn't have balanced the splurges with some better choices, I could have. But I didn't.

I'm trying to be brave when I'm scared, but it's hard. Some things are going on that are big questions in my family right now. I'm acting like nothing bothers me, la la la, but inside I'm scared shitless.

I'm trying not to be devastated, but it's hard. I'm feeling more and more like I'm losing my friend. Like, even if she does come back and want to talk to me, I'm so angry right now I'm not sure I'll want or be able to talk to her. Like, I'm not even sure she's going to decide she wants to be my friend anymore. And I still have no everloving clue what the hell I did to make her so upset. Which is scary, cuz if I don't know then I can repeat it. And this can happen again. Which will not happen, because before I'll let the friendship resume, I'm going to find out what the fuck is going on. Went on. Whatever.

I'm trying not to be lonely, but I am. I am missing my friend. Another friend at work is leaving. Most of the people I know at work are leaving. I don't have that many friends in this state to begin with, I can't have everybody up and leave me. My weekends are empty, and that makes me sad and lonely.

And so, I'm trying not to be crabby, but it's hard. I'm MSing, crampy, and tired. I'm up in weight. My eating is out of control- tied entirely, right now, to my emotions, which are all negative. I'm scared and upset about alot. There are alot of changes at work. I'm lonely. I'm pushing my husband away when I need him most with my crabbiness. I get upset with myself about being crabby which makes me more crabby. I'm sorry for you if you cross paths with me.

I'm trying not to cry, but it's hard.

My Lovely Valentine

2006-02-14T15:18:00.000-08:00

My husband and I met in the summer of 1998. Although, technically, that's not the first time we "met". When we graduated from (different) high school, we had mutual friends. I went with these mutual friends (one of whom was my boyfriend) to my husband's high school graduation party at his house. Many questions were asked before about whether or not it was ok for me to go to a party when the Honoree didn't know me. I didn't know my husband back then. It was fine. I didn't know many people at the party, and I didn't feel well. There was (for some reason) a reclining chair on the driveway, where people were dancing and hanging out (we were in high school, remember). I didn't feel well, and so I spent most of the night on the chair. I left early and drove home and went to bed. My husband remembers another time we met, at another party, but you'd have to ask him about that.
Anyway, so we met officially through the same mutual friends. I had broken up with my boyfriend and also learned that he had been cheating on me. My trust in anyone of the male gender was- to put it mildly- not high. We all hung out (we went to the movies, I think) and after that he asked for my number. We had fun talking. He called when he said he would. Something I wasn't used to.
That was the very, very first thing that attracted me to my husband: he called when he said he would. It set a tone for the rest of our relationship.
It would be several years of friendship before we quit denying the mutual attraction. We were very good friends and saw each other through romances and some loneliness. He, as my friend, walked me step by step through some of the darkest times in my life. We got jealous of said romances and hid those feelings. At the very beginning we went on a "date" and talked about all the reasons why we couldn't date.
Fast forward two years. I had transferred schools to one in California (we both lived on the East coast) and I was home for the summer. We were inseperable. His mom commented about how we were together all the time. I was working at two jobs and we spent all the rest of our time together. He used to come see me at Applebees and he liked to witness and make fun of my mistakes.
On June 25, we got over ourselves and kissed, for the first time. Our first kiss. It followed a night of a 10pm dinner at Denny's (I was late babysitting) and lots of flirting. While the earth didn't move, something shifted inside of me, between us. Something that, while we tried a couple of times to go backwards, would never let us move backwards.
There were lots of rules. (set up by yours truly, the control freak). We were not serious. This was not going to last. I was going back to California and didn't want to do long distance. I was so, so scared. Something inside of me sensed how big this was between us and I wasn't ready, I was scared. He spent the next few years trying to be patient, while I pushed him away and tried to pull him back. We fought alot. We spent many, many long hours on the phone. Everytime we got together in person, the connection was there, undeniable.
People on the outside didn't get it. All they saw was us fighting. They didn't like how he treated me- we fought too much. They didn't see what was really going on. I was fighting against what was there, and he was trying to stay sane. I broke up with him two times in that period.
Then we got together "for good". I realized what I already knew. I moved back to New England (my family is all here as well). He came and picked me up, much in the same way he had brought me to California and dropped me off. We fought the whole. way. home. I was scared- this whole time we had been "long distance". I'd never really had a serious boyfriend in "Hi honey, wanna come over?" range. I was, again, scared to death. I broke up with him again, but this time it lasted, like, a night.
After that, the games were up. Over. Finis. I knew we'd get married. In the years we spent as best friends and as a fighting long distance couple, we had seen each other through some very serious drama, and difficult times in our lives. Our friendship built a very strong foundation for what has become a very strong relationship. And we did, we got married. I got to marry my best friend, just like that cheesy quote.

This boy I fell in love with? He has his quirks. He loves comics and action figures. He is so smart. He loves cooking (good thing). He grocery shops and does laundry. He hates vegetables. He's great with kids. He's quiet until he's comfortable, then it can be hard to get a word in edgewise. He loves movies. He can be sarcastic and funny.

My husband- he is my heart and soul. He gets me like no one else does. He treats me like a Queen, but not in a demeaning way. We're partners in life. We respect each other immensely. He protects and cares for me. He listens to me, even when I think he's not. When I'm upset and can't figure out why, he's patient. He puts up with my constant tears- from "I don't know what to eat" to a TV show to "I'm losing a friend". He deals with my mood swings like a champ. I have more fun with him than I do with. anyone. else. period. He doesn't put up with my bullshit, and I love having someone who can be around to challenge me. We belong together. He's my best friend, my lover, and my soulmate. I am so blessed. No words are enough.

Happy Valentine's Day, Khalil. I love you with all of my heart.

Fat Girls Want To be Cute, Too

2006-02-13T19:55:00.000-08:00

So the whole wearing-four-pairs-of-pants-day-in-and-day-out has stopped working. So I scrounged up some money and went shopping. I had a whole plan. TJ Maxx and Marshalls first, then Old Navy. It was a good plan. Solid.

TJ Maxx was first. It was horrible. The mean people who run that store think that fat girls don't want to be cute. There were such cute pants! But! They all stopped at size 16! And I don't fit in 16s anymore! :( I scoured that store, the store I used to love, for pants that would fit. A sweater I liked. I found nothing.

More than slightly discouraged, I made a mistake. Went to Dunkin' Donuts and got a donut and a hot chocolate. Not my best decision ever. One day I'll write a post on the fact that I am very much an emotional eater.

On to Marshalls, after inhaling my donut. I actually tried a few things on in Marshalls, but to no avail. It all looked horrid.

Now, Wal-Mart was not in the original plan. But the original plan also did not include not finding anything at my first two stores. So, remembering that the pants I wore today came from Wal-Mart, I decided to stop by. At Wal-Mart I found two really cute pairs of pants and a really adorable sweater. I felt reassured- someone believed that fat girls deserve to be cute too!! *phew*. Also, one of my favorite things about Wal-Mart was finding out that they have sized 17 and 19 in Juniors. I didn't buy anything in those sizes, but I adore the fact that they recognize that not every teen that wants to be cute stops at size 13 and 15. So that made me happy. Say what you will about Wal-Mart, but I liked the way they shared the love.

On to Old Navy. I was getting tired, but was feeling happy about the Wal-Mart success. I basically picked out every pair of 18s in the store (I've done this before, at other stores). By the end, I had about 20 pairs of pants. I liked two pairs. But you know, I guess you've got to work a little. I found some cute tops and sweaters also. So overall? Shopping was a success.

I just want it to be known: No matter the size, everyone wants to be pretty or cute. It's tough when you're battling the urge to just wear sweats every damn day because they're the only comfy things, and you can't find anything halfway decent in the stores. It. Just. Sucks.

We are Winter's Bitch

2006-02-12T15:52:00.000-08:00

In New England, where I live, it has been the mildest winter ever. Typically in January and February the temperatures are in the teens to thirties. If we hit high thirties, we're lucky. It usually snows at least every week. You can always see your breath. This year has been so weird. It's been in the forties, and sometimes, even in the fifties. If you say it's cold at 41 degrees, people say things like, "Well for February 1st..." Like the date changes how 40 degrees feels. Just because it's supposed to be 22 degrees, and we're used to 22 degrees, doesn't make 40 degrees any warmer. No, but really, I've said, "Wow, it's beautiful out" more than I can ever remember saying in January and February ever, except for when I lived in California. (In CA, 40 degrees really is cold.)

Well, until today. Today Winter laughed in our faces and said "Ha haaaaaaaa! I was just saving it all up! You all got comfortable in your spring jackets and started eyeing your capris (which I don't own, but that's a story you'll hear about in a few months), you FOOLS!!"
She made us her bitch. She laughed in our face. And then she gave us all of winter's snow. In one day.

The Evidence:
These are our cars. License plates have been blurred to protect the innocent. Oh, wait. Nope, that's snow.

Trees.

The view from our back porch. That's our grill. Well taken care of, I know.

Khalil, who is thrilled to be out shoveling. I was going to help, but we only have one shovel. He sent me back inside. So, so sad.

See? Winter made us her bitch. In one day.

Edited to Add:

I HATE putting pictures up. I love having them, but it completely stresses me out to get them up. It takes me forever. And if anyone offers the helpful advice of, just click on the button and c/p the pic in, well, just don't offer that advice. Mmmmmmk? It just stresses me out. And takes me forever.

Friday Update!

2006-02-10T05:47:00.000-08:00

Well, it is sad that I cannot eat anything I want whenever I want. I miss fast food, and pizza, and chips, and cookies, and especially brownies. I miss huge portions. I do not miss the feeling of overeating, which I had far too often.

The scale this morning? Made it all up to me. 207- Down FOUR pounds. Whhhhheeeeeeee!!!
**********************************************************
In related news, I had a dream that on some random message board, someone had written:
Subject: Less of Paige that girl... (and I got all excited that someone was reading!)
Post: Is such a fat loser. (Not so excited.)
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In still related news, tomorrow begins The Wager.
My starting weight will be today's of 207. I have until August 1. Go me!

The New Deal

2006-02-08T15:25:00.000-08:00

Shannon and I have agreed to the terms of our wager:
Starting weight: Saturday, Feb 11.
Ending weight: August 1.

Whoever has lost more pounds wins.

Loser buys winner (who's actually the biggest loser, ha ha) dinner (a nice dinner out, winner-loser's choice) AND an outfit.

I'm so looking forward to my dinner and outfit. Now I just hope I don't have to eat my words.

Snail and Hippo

2006-02-08T15:08:00.000-08:00

I think I've mentioned before, that I've tried Weight Watchers before. Twice. The first time, I kicked Weight Watchers ass. I lost about 30 pounds. I exercised. I swam. I was an expert points counter. And I lost weight. Then I got married. Then I gained about 36 pounds or so. When you celebrate every 2/10 of a pound, 36 pounds is sad. It makes you sad when you finally go back to Weight Watchers and step back on the scale and cringe at the number. So, I went back the second time. And in about four months I lost about six pounds. It also was sad. It was so hard last time, and I can't for the life of me figure out why.

Weight Watchers talks alot about lifestyle changes. You can even become a Lifetime Member at Weight Watchers. Once you reach your goal, if you maintain that for six weeks, you're a lifetime member. You don't have to pay anymore and you have to weigh in at least once a month. The point being? Diets don't work. We all know that. We all know that diets don't work and if you want to lose weight and keep it off you have to make a lifestyle change. And not change back. Otherwise, well see above about 36 pounds.

When I started Weight Watchers, I was determined I was not going to be one of the people who were back for their third time. I was going to do this ONCE and it was going to be a lifestyle change and that was that because I was tired of being fat. So smug, was I. Then I got closer to being married. Then I got married. Then I realized I was paying $10 a week for people to tell me I was gaining weight. So I took a "break". Then I gained 36 pounds, and decided it was time to go back.

So I went back. Bound and determined that the 2nd time was the charm. The second time was dismal, as I mentioned before. Which was when I decided that it might be worth my while to try something, um, different.

Fast forward through lots of blood tests and you get a doctor telling you that you need to lose weight- not only so you can feel good about yourself again and not avoid shopping like the plague, but also because if you don't lose weight you're on the fast track to diabetes. And having just watched your grandma suffer some serious complications mostly stemming from diabetes, you know you don't want to go there. So I went to a nutritionist, who introduced me to the 'xchange. Which I like a lot better that WW, for the simple reason that it gives me more structure and forces me to eat more healty. On WW I can eat in my points, but I choose ice cream for all my points, that's my choice. Obviously they don't encourage that, but still. The option is there.

However, the 'xchange still must be a lifestyle change. Unless I want to lose weight only to gain it back and then some. Which brings me to my point (which actually is not to tell you the story of my weight loss attempts). Sometimes, it makes me sad that I have to change my lifestyle. See, I loooooove food. Especially food that's bad for me. When I see coworkers bring in McDonald's, and D'Angelo's, and Wendy's, and eat it all, well I want that option. I want to be able to eat whereever the hell I want. But the thing is? I'm not built like everyone. First of all, I don't have a stop button. Second of all, I gain weight. Quickly. I put on twenty pounds in a year, twice. (In 2002 and in 2004). And in 2003, from August to January (that's five months, folks) I gained the aforementioned 36 pounds. In other words, I have to be really careful, because apparently I have the metabolism of a snail. And the appetite of a hippo. And sometimes, it's just so damn frustrating. I want it opposite. But noooo. But this is part of growing up, getting to know myself, and treating myself well. I have to accept who I am- someone who really can't eat crap willy-nilly and not pay for it- and I have to deal.

but I don't always have to like it.

For Kicks

2006-02-07T16:41:00.000-08:00

Thought I'd try a meme. Really, I'm just trying to fit in. Everyone's doing them.

Four Jobs I've had:
1. Babysitting: I did this to support myself from ages 12- current (I still occasionally moonlight as a babysitter. I love babies.) When I think now, that I was babysitting at the age of 12- responsible for the care and protection of children smaller than me- it gives me hives. What were these people thinking??? To be fair, I started as a "mother's helper" (I folded lots of laundry), but still...

2. Retail: TJ Maxx, Parade of Shoes... I hate retail. I mean, I loved the 10% discounts, but really, really hated working in retail. People. can. be. so. rude.

3. Waitress: Oh my. I was a horrid waitress. The summer I waitressed I also nannied, not that that is at all relevant. I spilled soda, water, and alcohol on people. If people ordered appetizers, you were supposed to put the apps in, then wait a few minutes before entering the meal, because everyone hates it when the meal comes and you've only just begun your appetizers. Well, if I didn't put them in at the same time, I'd forget to put their meals in. A half hour later, people would be wondering where their food was, and the kitchen would be telling me, we don't have an order for steak for that table!! And then I'd look, and sure enough there was no order. Waitressing was, um, not my strength. But I ahd always wanted to try it, and I did.

4. Social Worker: I've done lots of kinds of social work, all involving children. I haven't been this good at something since babysitting. I love and adore social work and I'm not bad at it. My soul lies in social work. I've done child protection social work, counseling for children who've been sexually abused, family preservation, hospital social work, adoption, and my current job of foster care. As long as I'm busy and feel like I'm working and am challenged, I love my job. Good thing, cuz I sure barely get paid for it.

Four Movies I can Watch Over and Over:
1. Men in Black
2. Princess Bride
3. Men in Black II
4. Gone in 60 Seconds.
clearly I'm no conneiseur of movies. I like movies that make me laugh and cry. I'm not some kind of tough critic.

Four Places I've Lived.
1. Cheyenne, Wy.: For the first, I don't know, 6 months or so of my life.
2. Connecticut. From 6 months to 17, when I left for college, then 22 to now, when I cam back.
3. Rochester, NY: I started college here. I. Hated. It. and went downhill really, really fast. I desperately needed something different, and made one of probably four of the best decisions of my life, moving to:
4. Azusa, CA: Nicknamed the armpit of California, but who cares? I went to college there. Finished my BSW and worked for a year, before coming home, to CT, to get my MSW and get married. Not in that order.

Four Places I've Vacationed:
1. Disney World: Honeymooned here. Was AWESOME.
2. Do trips back to CA to visit friends count? I hope so, cuz I've never done many vacations.
3. How about trips cross country with my hubby (who wasn't at the time) to bring me to college and then home again?
4. Um.... I did a missions trip in Mexico and one in Canada. Let's count those.

Four TV Shows I Love:
A. Current:
1. Gilmore Girls
2. Everwood
3. Grey's Anatomy
4. The O.C.

B. Reality (really, it DOES need it's own category)
1. America's Next Top Model
2. Any MTV Reality Show. ANY.
3. Starting Over (Please don't hate me, but I TiVo it.)
4. The Amazing Race
and many, many more...

C. Not Current:
1. Friends. All. Time. Favorite. I know, I know, so cliche, but I LOVE Friends. When I have a bad night and can't sleep, I put in one of my Friends DVDs (I own them ALL) and can chill out. Some nights? It's the only thing that makes me chill out.
2. Dawson's Creek. All the appropriate teen angst at just the right time in my life.
3. My So Called Life. You were oh so short but oh so good.
4. ER. Ok, ok. I know it's current, but I don't watch anymore. I love the old ERs.

Four of my Favorite Things to Eat:
1. Ice Cream, particularly Cookies and Cream and anything chocolate
2. Pizza
3. Pizza
4. Chicken Parmesan
That was hard- there are a million foods I love

Four Sites I visit Daily:
1. TV Guide
2. Hamster Watch (During Big Brother Season)
3. Pink is the New Blog
4. (this one is weekly) Post Secret

On a Roll

2006-02-07T16:13:00.000-08:00

I'm discovering that I'm an "on a roll" kind of person. This can work in either way for me, good or bad. Once I start exercising, I keep going. I get on a roll, and enjoy it, and keep doing it. Once I stop, I stop. It takes me forever to start again. Once I start eating healthy, I keep it up. I like the way it makes me feel. I like eating healthier. But once I "take a break" or don't do well, that's it. I can't eat just one cookie, oh no. Once I've eaten one, well why not eat four? Or ten? Or the bad?

I guess another way to put it is I'm very all or nothing. Either I'm doing something all the way, or I'm not doing it at all. It's something good to know about myself, but I have to work on using it for the good and keeping it away from the not-so-good.

SuperBowl Sunday

2006-02-05T17:47:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, I was leaving a client's home. I had just met with a dad. As I was leaving, he said, "Who you pulling for in the Superbowl?" Now, if you're paying attention, I'm working at a newish job, so I really want to get along with people I have to work with, often for a long time, clients included. However, I couldn't even make an answer up. I stood in his cold driveway for a minute, thinking. Racking my brain, trying to come up with a football team, any team. Finally I had to look at him and say, "Um, who's playing?" He told me, the Steelers and Seahawks. I picked a team, and today I have no clue who I said. I think the Steelers. Not sure. Whatever I said, he agreed. So that was good.

In our house, we watch the first hour of the Superbowl. Or so. Actually, when I came home from the movies, the TV was paused (LOVE TiVo). Khalil was sitting at the table grading papers. He was pausing the game and then watching the commercials. But when I wanted to change it at about 7:30, that was ok because he'd seen all the good commercials. He's back to grading and I'm enjoying a Beauty and the Geek 2 Marathon. We're such nerds. To be fair, we did at least get invited to a party this year. So that was nice. We would have gone if the friends we just set up went, but she had a prior Superbowl Party commitment. So we chose to stay home.

Which is cool for two reasons. A, I got to go see Brokeback Mountain. Which was sooooooo good. It was not the most fast-paced movie, but it was intense and sweet. Um, but not intensely sweet. Both my friend Liz and I were crying- not even just sniffling, but crying- by the end. The credits rolled and we just sat there. So. Good. If you aren't offended by gay love scenes, I highly recommend it. B, I'm not feeling well (again?!?!?) so I'm happy for the couch time. Hopefully I'll rest/sleep it off and be fine tomorrow.

One last tangent. I've talked about Fridays before, and how I take them "off" from the 'xchange. Well, my goal this weekend was to stay on the 'xchange starting Saturday. I started Saturday off good- out to breakfast with my dad I had 1/2 of a veggie omelette with cheese, a few hashbrowns, and two mugs of tea. At his house, 1/2 glass of juice. Then I got home. And I was hungry. I tried- for lunch I had rice, then a banana, then later some veggies. And that's about when the weekend started going downhill. It involved an extra slice of banana bread, and two cookies worth of frozen cookie dough. Today it involved movie theater popcorn and fried chinese food. The positive thing that I take from all this is that while I still make mistakes, they seem... not as drastic as before. Before, my mistakes involved 1/2 bag of oreos, or a bag of chips, or several candy bars, or huge bowls of ice cream. Huge servings of food, all the time. I'm not perfect, but I am trying and improving.

Shannon and I are going to come up witha a new wager. We've done this before- most often betting each other an outfit for whoever loses more weight. I won once, and I LOVE the clothes I got- I don't fit in them anymore though. :( Last time we wagered, I gained more weight than I lost. It was sad. This time will be for real.

Today is FRIDAY!!!

2006-02-03T06:12:00.000-08:00

Two weeks ago, I weighed in at 213. Or something along those lines.
Last week, after I didn't eat all week because, you know, of the puking, I weighed 214.
This week, I weigh 211. I'm pretty excited. :)

I like watching the scale go down (never mind the weird 214 blip, which my friend described as "my body hanging on for dear life". Seeing the scale goes down gives me hope and gives me motivation. It means that this is working, and that it makes sense to continue on.

So continue on I will. Today IS Friday, so I'll continue to make good choices but will take it easy.

On a weird sidenote- there's a 37 year old woman on TV who is married to and 8 months pregnant by a 14 year old boy. She's telling everyone that she was led on (she thought he was seventeen. That makes a BIG difference, youknow???). But now she's in love and married and hopes she's not going to prison.

What do I say? That's sick. She was looking for someone to dominate and he's looking for a mommy. (Coincidence he was raised by his grandma? I think not. Coincidence she's waxing poetic about how he listens to everything she says??? I think not.) Sick sick sick.

A La Cuisine!! ???

2006-02-02T16:16:00.000-08:00

Where have I been? I wish I knew. Actually, I had the flu. And a nasty head cold.

Which brings me to today's story: I cooked.

I came home from work last night, around... mmm... 8 or so? And my hubby, poor guy, was in bed with chills and very flu-like symptoms. Symptoms that I had over a week ago and led to three days out of work, throwing up, and other fun times, but for him are leading to one day out of work and "I feel better!" Good thing I'm not bitter.

So I was left on my own to cook. Now, if you don't know me very well, you have no idea of the crisis this brings. But it does. See, cooking gives me anxiety, makes me nervous, is difficult for me, and I don't do it well. Most of the time (oddly enough I make some things well: lasagna and shrimp calzones. I'm strange.).

Khalil had left out pork to defrost, and I was pretty sure that once you defrost meat you aren't supposed to refreeze it, so I decided to cook it. I looked on the handy dandy internet and found what seemed to be a pretty easy recipe for pork chops. I thought, I can do that. And I decided to make some broccoli-cheese rice (from a box) and steam some squash. Easy-peasy, yes? Nnnoot so much for moi.

I read the recipe and the instructions for the rice several times. I planned what I would cook in what order. Start with rice (you have to brown the rice before adding water) then do the flour and the sear for one minute on each side of the porkchops. Then I'd add the water to the rice, put the water and steam the porkchops (if you don't believe, click on the link for the recipe) and then set the squash to steam.

Everything went according to plan! With much concentration and effort, I did everything. I browned the rice. I seasoned the pork and coated them with flour. Heated the right amount of oil. Seared the pork one minute on each side (I timed it). Cut the squash and got it ready. Then I got the rice ready with water and seasonings, got the pork ready with water and seasonings, and set the timer on the squash. Weirdly enough, all three of my dishes were steaming and simmering. This did not seem odd to me. Maybe it should have.

About twenty minutes later, timers are going off and I think "Voila! Dinner! I rock! maybe this isn't so hard???" God laughs. I pull the rice off the heat and take the lid off. I had to like pry it off, which was weird. It looks a little, well, runny, but you're supposed to let it sit for five minutes so I figure that will take care of the runny. I take the lid off the pork. Looks, well brown. I'm fairly certain pork's supposed to be brown, so I figure that's good. I'm not thrilled with the having to scrape the pork from the pan, but I notice a yummy looking coating of brown on the bottom of my pork. (More golden brown and less pork brown). Mmmm that looks good! Maybe I'll just turn the porks over and see if I can get the other sides golden brown??? I try, but seems like that's not really working so I give up and take them out of the pan. Tinfoil over them to keep them warm while the rice is, um, setting. Getting less, you know, runny.

I weigh my pork (a little too much, but the bones in pork are, well they weigh alot, right??). I get my rice. Still a little runny, hmmm, but I'm hungry and it's 10 pm (I kinda procrastinated before starting to cook. I had medicine to give and blogs to read, come ON!) so I figure the rice is fiiiiiiiine. I get my squash (seems a little, um, watery but whatever) and go sit down.

Take some bites of rice. Yeaaaah, still runny but you know- tastes pretty good. Try some squash. They're not overly cooked, but for some reason they're watery. HOW did I make watery squash!?!?!? Still, not bad. Try the pork. Oh. Can't cut the pork with the side of my fork. That's odd. Cut it with my steak knife. The brown part, it's um, Crunchy. Not chip-a-tooth Crunchy, but kind of close. The rest of the pork is, cuttable. Maybe a teeeeeeny bit dry, but still. I have lots of water on my plate from the squash and the rice, so I can just kind of dip the pork in that and it will be ok.

I told Khalil today and when I told him what I did with the pork he said, "That doesn't sound good". Thanks, hon. He looked at the leftover pork (which I saved (??!?!?!?!?) ) and laughed.
He told me this: You're not actually supposed to follow the directions on the box of rice (HOW am I supposed to know that, I wondered aloud??? I just told you, he says.). You need less water and you don't put the lid on all the way. I overcooked the squash (14 minutes not my 18) and I think he was implying that my first problem with the pork was the recipe. I hope he implied that anyway.

So what? So cooking's not my strong suit. Sue me.

Fridays

2006-01-19T21:02:00.000-08:00

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?

2006-01-18T20:03:00.000-08:00

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?

2006-01-16T14:58:00.000-08:00

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?

2006-01-15T06:39:00.000-08:00

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...

2006-01-09T19:25:00.000-08:00

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

2006-01-08T18:39:00.000-08:00

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.

2006-01-07T17:02:00.000-08:00

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...

2006-01-03T17:04:00.000-08:00

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...

2006-01-02T17:38:00.000-08:00

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

2006-01-01T18:24:00.000-08:00

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.

Have a Charlie Brown Christmas, all.

2005-12-24T09:49:00.000-08:00

I've been a little bah humbug this year. Knowing all the time, that, really, I just need to watch my favorite Christmas movie to remind me what Christmas is all about. I've (as usual) gotten so caught up in buying, and wrapping, and the tree, and the mess of my apartment, and, well the details that I've forgotten the bigger picture.
Linus, as usual, reminded me:

Luke 2:8-14 (New International Version)
New International Version (NIV)

The Shepherds and the Angels
8And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night.
9An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.
10But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.
11Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ[a] the Lord.
12This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."
13Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
14"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

I do not always 10o% subscribe to the very fundamental Christian beliefs I was raised with. I'm still in the middle of struggling with it all. But today, on Christmas Eve, I do remember the basis of what today and tomorrow are all about. And I remember how this resonates in me as truth.

So, whatever you believe, however you celebrate, I hope that you are able to have a quiet moment to think about what it is you believe and why. And that it brings you peace this season that is about peace but ends up being full of chaos.

In the meantime, I'll be wrapping, and baking, and giving, and visiting. And trying to keep the true meaning in the back of my mind.

Merry Christmas.

Color and family

2005-12-21T20:13:00.000-08:00

This post from American Family has had me thinking for two days now.
I didn't comment in the comments section because I don't have all the thinking worked out. So, I am working it out here.

The initial articles are a series of articles, basically about a black family attempting to adopt a white child.

I have several thoughts on this issue. I like the theme that culture and adoption are not simple matters. Because they are not. Hence all the thinking on my part.

To be fair, I will fully disclose: I am white. I have not adopted. I am a social worker. I have worked with biological families at risk of losing their children due to abuse and neglect, with adoptive families adopting primarily from other countries, with families who are adopting or have adopted through foster care, as a state foster care worker, and my current job which is brand new as a private agency therapeutic foster care social worker. That's about 2/3 of my resume, but those are the parts that apply here.

I have always been incredibly passionate about the children I work with. I left my job as a state social worker in foster care in Los Angeles because it was so hard for me that I could not properly advocate for the children in my caseload. I left my job as a social worker in intercountry adoption for many reasons, one of them being that I am at my very core passionate about the children in this country who so desperately need help. Please do not get me wrong, though: I strongly believe that children across the world have no families, are in incredible suffering, and need help of all kinds.

That all being said. The question is- could a black (we will use black, even though it is ridiculous, to avoid the African-American/Jamaican/cuban/etc etc debate) family adopt a caucasian child. They went to several domestic agencies and were finally directed to adopt internationally, from Bulgaria.

I struggle struggle struggle with this. For one thing, what then is the true motivation to adopt??? To prove a point!?!? I cannot think of anything more assinine. Then, my next question: why are they insisting on a white child? I must be very shallow because I do not understand. Is this because they saw white gay people with a "black" child? So, did they think, "let us see: Can we do the same offense to them??"

The problem is, that in this country (and for the sake of length ha ha ha I want to stick with this country), there are many, many black, or African American children who do not have homes. As there are many Caucasian, Hispanic, and a few Asian. And there are, for some reason, not enough foster families or adoptive families. There just aren't. There aren't enough period. There aren't enough "black" families for the "black" children, and so on. So, when there is a family, and there is a child, and they are a match, in the "field", the priority ends up being, can we find this child a family?

Again, please don't get me wrong. Social workers do take ethnicity and culture into account. We really, really do. We try. If there is a black child who needs a home, we will first try to locate for them a "black" family. And so on. However, the grim reality of adoption and foster care in this country is that it's just not that easy. Too many children, not enough families.

That's the bottom line, I guess, for me. Too many children, not enough families. Not enough families who are diverse. The ethniciities of the foster and adoptive families do not perfectly match the ethnicities of children in need. I'm not enough of a sociologist to comment on why that is. But, it is.

I'm not saying that for all pieces of the population who foster and adopt- whether it is a private domestic, or an intercountry adoption, or a foster care of an infant, or older children- that race, culture and ethnicity should be ignored. It should not. because it is a crucial piece of these children and families' lives. But so is having a family, for many of these children.

I know I don't make tons of sense tonight. But this provoked so much thought for me, and I have not yet brought it up with anyone I work with, and needed a place to work it out.

A new day, more angst

2005-12-13T16:52:00.000-08:00

Well. After tears and frustration, turns out my mom is stressed. If I ever want to know something about myself, usually I just have to look at my mom. Now that I'm older and know myself better, I can usually look at the weird ways I behave and translate them to her. Thanks, mom. So, the point of all this is to say, that when I am planning something I get overly anxious about details. Which is what happened with my mom. I'm not excusing, but trying desperately to understand. Because what happened yesterday? Wasn't my mom.

Also? I put my second winter jacket on today. I have a pink and a blue. Last week I wore the pink. I LOVED my pink jacket. It was long, and cute. I put it on and zipped, it felt, um, a little tight. But I tried to ignore the fact that I couldn't bend over. So then? On the way home, the zipper popped. Yes. I popped the zipper on my jacket. So this morning I decided to wear the older, blue, puffier jacket. Yeah. My arm wouldn't go in. It wasn't comfy. it doesn't fit. Not only have I grown out of all my old clothes, but also my winter jackets. So if you see me walking around in a fall/spring like fleece, that is why. Because I flat out refuse to buy new jackets. k

Every day (well, maybe not EVERY day) I learn something new about myself. I like the fact that I'm open to this, I learn good and bad things. Sometimes, honestly, I relearn things I forgot. Like today and last week. I learned that I am not so good with change *ahem*. And today something that is very important to me shifted. If imperceptable initially, it did shift. And I didn't like it. I like things that I like to Stay The Same. That makes me happy. People who hate routine? I don't get them. I like predictability and routine. It makes me happy. I feel safe that way. When it gets messed with, to use a crude phrase, I get my panties all in a bunch. Sometimes even when the change is GOOD. Like when I'm moving to a bigger apartment! Or I'm moving to a new job! Have I told you? I'm moving to a new job - I start in SIX days. I have two days left of this job. Then three days off, then my New Job!!!

That's alot for me. Changes everywhere, Christmas, being fat... I'm working very hard every day to maintain some sort of emotional stability. Some days (hours, minutes) it works better than others.

'Tis the season.

someone make it go away??? Please?

Barlarjekoapg OR

2005-12-12T20:07:00.000-08:00

"I'm so angry", or "there's family, and then there's family", or, lastly "the difference between real compassion and compassion-when-it-suits-me".

As you can tell, I couldn't come up with a real title. So I made one up and included all the runners-up. (Runner-ups???)

You know how you have your family? You know, the one you grew up with? That saw you through the awkward stages of braces and glasses? The ones that put you in therapy? The ones that you love- sometimes cuz you want to, sometimes cuz you have to?? And then, you know how there's your other family? The family you choose, they are your closest friends. The ones that you have grown with no matter what. The ones that, in your heart of hearts, are the family that you chose?

I have both. And my chosen family, doesn't have much of the first kind of family. What they do have is very, very dysfunctional, and that's putting it mildly. So I love to spend holidays with them because they are my family. My in-laws would be fine with this. In fact, when my chosen family didn't come to Thanksgiving, I heard it from my mother-in-law like 10 times. Because she? Is full of the real kind of compassion. And love.

Christmas is at my mother's. I asked her, and then invited my chosen family. Now, I know, that she really wants them there. I know she does. What I don't get is why she's acting the way she is. She can't have dinner at the same time we always have it (between 2 and 3 pm) because my grandmother is diabetic. Apparently, we now have to eat earlier. No, snack will not cut it. Oh, and she invited my grandmother's friends. Will the children of my chosen family make it not a good day for my grandma and her friend?? No, mom, they'll be fine. My mom, she talks alot about how she wants to be a surrogate grandmother to these kids. If this is the kind of grandmother she's going to be to my children, I'll leave it, thankyouverymuch. The final straw was tonight when my mother called my best friend and more or less made her feel unwelcome. She was rude and unkind. This is the same woman who had to leave her job to teach Bible study. Do they teach compassion at the Bible study she teaches?? And you wonder why I'm slowly but surely breaking away from organized religion. *snort* Talk about practicing what you preach. Sheesh.

What broke my heart today is when my best friend said to me, "Sometimes I just feel like no one wants me. Like no one loves my kids. like I don't fit in anywhere." Don't get me wrong, I understand that family is family. But why don't we have room for more family?? Why do they act like this? When my chosen family is included with the family I didn't choose, everyone loves it and has a wonderful time. Ask to do it again. Why why why all the drama initially?

I don't want you to misunderstand. I love my mother, very much. If she does move to Kentucky, you'll see a post about how upset I am. I just wish that what she postulates is true about herself translated into the real life picture. But you know what? It doesn't sometimes. Sh talks alot about being compassionate and being a true friend, but sometimes it seems like she hasn't a clue what that looks like in real life.

It will work out. Everyone will love each other. But wounds like these leave scars, and my friend, my chosen sister, she doesn't need any more scars. All she needs is people that love her and treat her well.

Nice Christmas spirit.

Update and OMG!!

2005-12-12T16:10:00.000-08:00

First, the OMG!! Karen, from The Naked Ovary might come here!! She did a post, that she was going to read some blogs, and asked for peoples blogs. So I left it in a comment, and if you're here, Hi, Karen!

Ok. Enough of being a weird blogging stalkerish blogger. That would just be cool.

My birthday? Was good. Except for the crying at Starbucks because I was tired, and they took a long time to get my coffee, and I thought they forgot about me, and I started thinking about how birthdays change when you get older, and there's not all the fanfare, and people have forgotten about me just like how at Starbucks they forgot about my coffee. So I cried. Then got over myself. My husband and I had a wonderful dinner at Red Lobster (we are SO high class). I got some little gifts from him- like this and this. (I don't get much for my birthday cuz he spoils me at Christmas). :) It was just a nice day, overall.

Christmas is coming!! I love Christmas. I am one of those incredibly annoying people who listens to Christmas carols before Thanksgiving. I know, I know. But I can't help it, I LOVE them. Sue me. I love the snow, and the feeling of the season. I love seeing family (ask me again after the TWO Christmases we're having how I feel about that one). I love the feeling of good cheer that prevails. You know. Like how sweet the clerks at stores are (ha ha haaaaaaaaa). I'm done with shopping (most people have stopped reading by now, what with the shopping and the carols), and I get to enjoy. The only problem is this: the tree. See, if I had my way, we'd go the day after Turkey Day and get it. And put it up. And leave it. But my husband? Nooo. That's too early. (too early??? Really?? Is there such a thing?) He likes to do it Christmas Eve. But then, what time do you have with your tree before Christmas? Sitting in the dark with just the lights on, talking. Or just looking? And feeling like you're in the Christmas spirit? So we compromise. Sort of. He just keeps putting it off until I eventually will cry and we'll go.

I am a little worried about the cat and the tree. Lots of people say their cat will leave the tree alone. My cat??? Ha ha HA. That's hilarious. This is the cat that eats string, and styrofoam, and whole wheat pitas, and oil, and butter. And everything else we leave out, edible and inedible. So, we're going to play it by ear. See how it goes. And hope and pray she doesn't tip it over. Or eat the tree. Or something.

Last but not least. I've made an executive decision, about myself. I'm not going to stress out about the weight, until New Years is done. Then, because of my (desire to have children) health and well being, I will be All. Systems. Go. :) Yes. And actually, I weighed myself last week, and was down three pounds. Very, very bizarre. And my jeans are getting loose. How? How is this happening? I'm not going to worry, because, well I'm just not. Right? I'm not.

So Karen, sorry it was so rambly and update-y. I've got some good, emotional posts from earlier. They're, um, somewhere. Meanwhile, my cat is trying to eat the elastic that's currently in my hair so I have to run. I hope you weren't too bored. ;)

Happy Almost Birthday to Me

2005-12-06T19:28:00.000-08:00

In less than an hour and a half, I'll be 26 years young. That's almost THIRTY. (for those of you older than me reading this, pleasepleaseplease don't hate me. I am where I am. Always.) Thirty feels so freaking old to me. And granted, I've got four years before I get there. But still- I'm closer to thirty than I am to forty. I'm oooooooolllllllllllllllllllddddddddddddd.

Wanna know what I've gotten for my birthday so far???

~ An $800.00 car repair bill. For a new distributor. Which, according to some very. reliable. website. states is supposed to last the lifetime of the car, but hondas have had some problems with premature distributor failure. Of course.

~Fat.

~Lack of motivation. I don't wanna!! I wanna eat what I want. Exercise?? Are you kidding me? I'm too tired!

~A disaster of an apartment. Laundry. Groceries. More laundry. Laundry. Christmas decorations- still in boxes. jackets. blankets.

~Snoring and kitten induced insomnia. I slept last night, it was a miracle. It was the first night in like three nights that I got any sleep. My husband snores, and he's not feeling well. So he snores more and the breathe-right strips stop working. So I come to sleep on the couch. And Rory, who usually sleeps with us, comes with me. I thought she'd jump up, snuggle in, and go back to sleep. I mean, it's 1 am! Sleeping time! But noooooo- Rory thinks it's play and get into lots of shit time!! So I just didn't sleep. Several nights in a row.

~Pussy. No, not that way. Get your minds outta the gutter, already. No, my sister called today. Apparently, my nephew went to a birthday party this weekend. Him and all his friends are turning 7. (Seven!?!? omg!! Surely he's too little to be seven?!?!?) Anyways. Some little kid had the nerve to call my nephew a pussy. Made me cry at work. Because you know what? At seven, you shouldn't know that word. At seven, you shouldn't know how to use that word. At seven, no one should use that word against you. And you know what else? My nephew has enough on his plate. And even though I want to pretend that this world is a great place, I know that my nephew has a hard road ahead of him. Not everyone is kind. I just wish it didn't start so fucking soon. I'm not even his parent and all I want to do is protect him from meanness. He just- he doesn't deserve that. Shit. I'm crying again.

Anyways. Not all has been bad. :) I've also had two wonderful dinners out with friends, my mom's taking me out to lunch tomorrow, my husband and I are going out to dinner tomorrow, I've gotten some cool presents, and overall I'm incredibly happy in life (not always reflected here, but that's not exactly the point, now is it?).

ooh? You want a fun list? Ok. Things my cat have eaten thus far:
cat food.
Plastic.
Strings.
oil.
butter.
whole wheat pitas.
sour cream and onion pringles.
apples.
peanut butter.
ice cream.
bagels.

yeah. She's not actually a kitten. She's a puppy. In kitten skin. :) I love her though.

Happy Birthday to me. :)

Sorry

2005-12-01T05:56:00.000-08:00

That last post? All over the place, I realize. But I needed to get both those things out there, so forgive me. :) And if you're a new reader, (you know, my five new readers?) bear with me. I'm not ALWAYS all over the place. Just sometimes.

Less of Paige the Attention Whore...

2005-12-01T05:36:00.000-08:00

Yeah. Wow.
So, I whored myself out. Inadvertantly. I PROMISE I didn't know what I was doing. But I commented on Amalah and may have mentioned something about people reading my blog... so what happened?!?!? People CAME HERE. And FIVE PEOPLE made comments.
OMG. I feel so popular.
Don't worry, guys. I will keep it real. I mean, even though I had five comments yesterday, I mean, I'll still keep it real.

I don't even know what I'm talking about. Except, thanks to those of you who came, and read, and commented. That was nice. And thanks to Mrs. CA who gave me helpful hints about blogrolling. Look for one, coming soon.

My weight loss buddy and I, we were having this conversation. About, you know, losing weight and eating right and this time of year. For me it's Thanksgiving (week), then my birthday week, then Christmas (month), thenNew Years... who wants to eat healthy at any of those times? And, I'm not sure if I've mentioned it, but I'm in the middle of ending one job and will be starting another soon. Me? and Limbo? We don't get along? So the eating- has been out of control. Back to the point- she writes this (well it was along the lines of this, because I can't find her exact quote):

I just want to eat and be happy.

We were lamenting weight gain and the frustration of trying to lose weight or at the very least not gain it this time of year- and then how it seems like every time of year there seems to be that excuse.

I have to tell you, especially if this isn't something you struggle with (cuz if you struggle, you already know): this is so damn hard. It's not just about: "well, if she would just eat right- it's less calories in than out. She just needs to eat right and exercise". It's very, very easy for someone who has never really had to worry about weight to say that. And it really, really pisses me off when I hear that. Partially I think because often for me eating is emotional- I eat when I'm upset, I crave comfort food when I feel off-kilter, I eat when I'm bored, if I'm not doing well I have a much harder time making good choices. See, I KNOW that it's about the choices I make. But those choices? Not so easy for me, all the time? And I just wish people realized that sometimes. When eating what you want makes you happy (and trust me, for some of us, it does) eating what you don't want or not eating what you want? Can be hard. And stressful. And tiring.

Just go easy on us. K?

Who I read and what that says 'bout me.

2005-11-29T14:23:00.000-08:00

I was introduced to blogs for the most part through a board I mentioned. Someone posted: what sites do you browse when you're bored at work? Someone else mentioned Dooce. Well, I read me some Dooce. And read, and read and read. My whole way through the archives. And I loved it. To me, it was like reading a book. And I still love it, cuz now my book gets updates- I don't have to wonder "Hey, what happened?" (I KNOW it's not a book, it's real people writing real journals. But still.) And I thought, hey, I'd like to write a blog. Then I thought, nah, I'm not good enough. Then I decided, who the hell cares, cuz who's gonna read it besides me??
Once I finished Dooce, I started in on Mandajuice. I really love her site, mostly cuz it's real. Those are two of the only maybe three or four sites whose archives I've read. The other one site whose archives I've read all the way through is From 0 to 5. I love her site cuz it's a great account of real live foster parenting, and I'm soon going to be one of the social workers working with families like hers. I love her accounts. From her I connected to one of her daughter's sites- Kaia's Soapbox. Good stuff there too.
Most of my other sites I linked to from either Dooce or Mandajuice. When Dooce when to blogher, she mentioned a bunch of other bloggers, and I wanted to read them. That's where I found Mandajuice and others, like Fussy, and Finslippy. Amanda of Mandajuice has a great blogroll, including Amalah (who is so cute herself and just had the cutest baby going, and I've read alot but not all of her archives), Suburban Bliss, and SJ the Sarcastic Journalist of SheNuts. Also VeryMom (who also just had a baby and also introduced me to wondering about cloth diapers and such) and Wondermom, who I'm still getting to know. :)
I also read, and some of these are from previously mentioned lists and some I have NO CLUE how I found, but I did:
A Little Pregnant- her son was a preemie, and I used to work with parents and preemies as a social worker. SO that got me started. Plus she had her baby in CT, so while I read her archives the whole time I was like, was that at the hospital I worked at (it was at the same time?) but then I decided No, because I would have remembered.
American Family
The Mommy Blog
The Naked Ovary
Uncommon Misconception

I read two daddy blogs:
Shotgun Daddy and Daddy Daze

I read a couple of girls I know from boards
A Yank Gone South, KCB in Progress, and 8 Hours, which used to be The Fourth Trimester ;).

Lastly, I read Dana's Dirt. She works in Hartford, my state capitol, as a DJ. I don't listen to her cuz I'm sleeping when she's on, but I love me some celeb dish. So there that is.

What do all these people say 'bout me??

Some things represent who I am. I have a few adoption and foster care blogs- I really tend to feel like I'm snooping on those cuz they talk about social workers and I am one. But I love the perspective it gives me, that clients are scared to give me. In all honesty, their honest writing makes me a better social worker. Thanks, ladies.

I have lots of moms who blog (I think they don't like the term mommy bloggers?). I love love love reading about motherhood. That's cuz I hope to be a mommy one day, and hopefully oneday sooner rather than later. Again, I love the honesty about motherhood I get there. I also love the different perspective of the daddy blogs.

There are a few infertility blogs- see above about adoption and foster care.

One of my favorite parts about the blogs I read is that even though I say "infertility blog" or "adoption blog" or "mommy or daddy" blog- they're always about so much more. Something has stricken me about the way these people write, and I love hearing their stories. And I love feeling like I'm a part of watching them unfold, somehow. They push me to write more, and also to say more than just blah blah I feel fat.

Of note- there are no "weight loss" blogs. I can't find them. A few blogs of course mention "yeah I'd like to lose weight" but none like mine. The thing is, in the few I've found, it's all "this is what I ate today" and that gets old fast. Kick me if that's all I ever talk about. I want this to be more about my emotional journey than physical. And one day I want it to be more about my journey through pregnancy, and then mommyhood, and so on.

Thanks for hearing who I like to read. If you don't read these wonderful people, I strongly encourage you to start. If there are people you read I didn't mention, I'd love to hear about them.

Also, this is partly because I'm technologically delayed and haven't the slightest clue how to put a blogroll on my blog. If anyone can tell me in simple, step by step instructions, I'd love that.

The Good, The Bad, and The Turkey

2005-11-27T07:25:00.000-08:00

The Good
Ah. Thanksgiving? Best holiday I've had in a long time. We hosted for my husband's family. There was so much food it was ridiculous (see: The Turkey, below). We cooked and cooked and I cleaned and cleaned. It was crazy. But it made for a wonderful day. We had his mom, uncle, and great aunt and uncle for dinner. Then his aunt, uncle, and cousin joined us for dessert. It was so nice. Everyone was so sweet- how nice our apartment was, how good the food was, what a great day it was.
Then, on Friday, it was off to my sister's in New Jersey. We went bowling, it was my niece and nephew's first time. We all learned that when you have two young children who are rolling the ball down the lane, there's really no reason to play more than one game. Really. Because that one game? Takes about as long as six games. So when you're done with the one, and the seven year old has beaten you by one point, and the only person you've beaten is the three year old, and she has to have help to get the ball down to the pins without stopping halfway, you're done. But that was our Thanksgiving, and it was good.
Because it's a Thanksgiving day post, I'm going to tell you what I'm thankful for:
~My hubby. Because he puts up with me. every day.
~My family. My sister, my niece and nephew. My mom. My in-laws. Really, they're all amazing and I love them. What would I do without my family? I may whine about them, but in the end I am the one who's blessed.
~My friends. They keep me real.
~I have a home. And food. And a kitten. And wow, those three things make me blessed.
~For this second, I'm thankful that I have enough food to eat to get fat. Some people? They have swollen bellies because they have nothing to eat or their food was contaminated. I'm blessed.

The Bad
Well, I'm fat again. I gained alot back the week before thanksgiving. I don't even want to think about what I've done to myself this past week. It's bad, very very bad. And I totally lack the motivation to begin again. I'm just so damn tired of caring. I'm tired of worrying about it. I'm tired of hating my body. I'm tired of being fat. I'm tired of all the things that go with fat. I'm tired of feeling uncomfortable around everyone, even my family and friends. This sucks. So, so bad. I'm mostly frustrated with the fact that it's no longer about how I look or feel about myself. It's about my health and the health of my one day children. No pressure, though, right????

The Turkey
Cuz we worked so hard, here's what we ate. :)
Turkey
Stuffing (I didn't eat this but we made it)
Sweet potatoes with apples
Applesauce nut bread
Cranberry grape salad
mashed potatoes
corn
green bean casserole
turnips
rolls

Pumpkin Pie
Tollhouse Pie
Blueberry Pie
Strawberry Rhubarb Pie
Chocolate Peanut butter stuff
Chocolates
Some bread stuff
Cheesecake
Chocolate cake

We didn't make everything. My mother in law, husband's aunt, great aunt, and uncle all helped. :)

Overall, it's been a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Oh! And did I tell you? I'm done with Christmas shopping AND with Christmas cards. I may be fat, but I'm efficient dammit. So there.

Playing Dress Up... Or not...

2005-11-14T13:02:00.000-08:00

Well. I talked last time about the fun I was anticipating. Turns out some things were better, some were worse. WORSE, if you can believe it.
Better:
The girls in her wedding party are, for the most part, very nice. Most of them were hilarious. One was a little loud for me, one a little quiet, one a little wild, and one was just right (do I sound like Goldilocks? I think I do.) I found myself wanting to be friends with the one who was just right. Funny thing was, she was the one I was the most nervous about. See, she doesn't use paper towels. Cuz it's bad for the environment. And she, like, cares. And I, like, could care less. But she was cool about it, and so was I, and we were both appropriately self-deprecating about our beliefs. I liked her.
Worse:
Two things. One was that I felt like I would feel uncomfortable. I didn't. I made myself at home- apparently too at home. Because I ended up basically finishing up the lunch-of-things-I-don't-eat and then serving it. Then I held the baby while everyone else ate. Then I cleaned up. All of that, with help, I don't mind- I like being helpful. It gives me something to do with my hands and makes me feel less out of place. However, I HATE it when I'm the only one doing it. It makes me bitter. Not at my house- there I'd rather just do it. But when I'm at someone else's house, NOT hosting, I don't feel like I should do ALL The work. One bridesmaid (too loud) offered to help. She brought two dishes into the kitchen then went on with the being loud. The other matron-of-honor (too wild) stood in the kitchen and watched me work. I'm trying to not make enemies out of these women, so I did not snap at her (as I wanted to): "If you're going to stand there and watch me, you may as well help me." I refrained.
Also worse:
Oh. My. God. Bridesmaid dress shopping. Here's what I was expecting: to go to try on dresses and have to come out with it unzipped or look terrible in it cuz it didn't fit correctly. Here's what happened: we get to the place. We are directed to the collection of tea-length dresses. We look through. Too wild doesn't like anything that I and Just Right like (we're talking bottoms of dresses. That's it.) Then we pick four that the bride would like to see. And then we look at the sizes. They range from 10. to 12. Two Whole Sizes. Neither of which THIS girl fits into.
Everyone was fine- no one made a big deal of it. It really, really, really sucked for me. I wanted to cry. Instead I took Just Right's baby from her so that she could go swimming in the 10s 3 months after carrying a human inside of her body.
Way, way worse:
(this makes three things. Sorry.)
The car ride home. I ended up in tears. Also I screamed at my stepfather when, after I wanted him to tell me how to get OFF 90-E he tells me, not once, not twice, but THREE times how to get back ON 90-E. It was fun. I then cried three more times on the way home. I think it was a combination of everything- being away from my husband (who had a miserable weekend putting up curtains), my kitten (who missed me terribly), the dresses, the overload of female interaction, and the excessive time spent in the car. I was tired and done.

I don't think I'm going back to Rochester anytime soon. I need me a break.

Leavin... In my little Honda...

2005-11-10T15:27:00.000-08:00

(you're supposed to sing the title to the tune of Leavin... On a Jet Plane...)

Tomorrow I will get in my Honda and drive the 6+ hours to Rochester, NY. One of my closest friends is getting married. No, not this weekend, next September. But on Saturday, of this weekend, all of her bridesmaids and matrons of honor (which I am one of) will be getting together for a "ladies luncheon" to "get to know each other better" and then go pick out bridesmaids dresses.

Don't get me wrong, here. I love Amy to bits and pieces. As I said, she is one of my nearest and dearest. And I am thrilled and honored to be in the wedding, and to be a matron (I hate that word. Can I still be a maid, even though I'm married???) of honor. However, I don't want to go to Rochester. I don't want to have a ladies luncheon and I don't want to pick out bridesmaids dresses. Here are the issues: To go to Rochester I have to leave my husband. At what is inarguably the hardest time of the year for him. I hate leaving him period., much less at this time of year. I also have to leave my cat. I know, I know, I'm a big big wuss. But I love my husband and I love to be home. Flame on. Second, I don't do groups. Especially not groups of girls. For the most part, girls get on my nerves. There is a very special group of ladies who do not get on my nerves in a group. But they're different. And I know them, they're not strangers. I hate stranger girls. I hate having to be nice. Ugh. I'm such a bitch. So sue me. Also, from what my friend Amy tells me about some of these girls, and from what I've seen, well... I'm not so confident about liking some of them. Third, and last and then the whine is almost over: the bridesmaids dresses. See, I believe that picking them out will involve trying them on. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm a good 80 pounds more than I want to be next time I try something on. In public. With a group of girls. That I don't even like. Without the option of going home to drown my sorrows with my husband, cat, and some ice cream. Also, I hope to be much skinnier by the time the wedding rolls around. So I am loathe to try on dresses now. But I get why she wants us to. So of course I'll go, and be the awesome matron of honor that I am. I'll be missing my husband, my cat, and I'll be slightly uncomfortable, but I'll enjoy being with Amy.

I'm so excited she's getting married. Her and Jim make a really cute couple, and he's awesome with her. And she's waited for so long and been so patient. She so deserves this. I hope I can be a good maid, er, matron of honor.

Someday in the future look for a post about her bachelorette party. Trust me, it'll be good. I'm going to title it, "Less of Paige the Prude".

Consequences

2005-11-09T14:37:00.000-08:00

So...
If you eat: chocolate chip cookies, chocolate chip cookie dough, fast food including two kinds of fries and a milkshake, unlimited everything you want, you will gain two pounds.

After losing six, gaining two is a big damn deal. It sucks. This suckiness will propel you to eat well. Then you will want to have chips. So you'll sacrifice 1 milk and 1 fruit for chips (2 starch). And hope that's ok. But only halfway care.

In other news, there have been big changes in Less of Paige. As in my life, not the blog. Because there IS less of me. :) I got a new job!! I'll be going with something mildly if not at all challenging to something much more frustrating and challenging- and I couldn't be more thrilled. I'm going from a teeny agency to a much larger one. A place with not many opportunities to one with lots. I'm hoping it works out well. If you see panic set in in May, you'll know something bad happened. But I don't think it will.

We had 5 sets of curtains to hang. 1 was the set that I attempted ha ha ha, and Khalil hung that set and one other one. Only three more to hang before Thanksgiving, and only two weekends! Crap! The numbers don't add up!!

Ugh. I'm even bored of myself. Everyone else is writing about fall, and how great it is, and other cool stuff. Me, I'm just boring.

A Gold Star for Me!!!

2005-11-04T17:10:00.000-08:00

It's working!!! The Diabetic Exchange Diet, it's working!!

I lost 3.5 pounds this week.
Total of SIX pounds, go me!!!

(wow, there's alot of exclamation points in this post!!)

In Weight Watchers when you lose five pounds, you get a gold star sticker. When you're losing weight, and are subjected to doing it in a group of people, stupid things like stickers make you happy. I mean, really and truly happy.

This time, I'm not doing Weight Watchers. I missed my gold star.

Then my friend, she gave one to me. Well, a ton. Maybe one for each pound I'm gonna lose. And that rocked.

Many more gold stars to come!!!!!!!!

The Cat? She always wins.

2005-11-04T17:00:00.000-08:00

As I type this, my kitten (who cannot be technically called a kitten for much longer, but to me she'll always be my kitten, I am SUCH A SAP) is sprawled across my chest. Purring. And she is also sopping wet.
Wet, you ask??
Why yes, wet. As in, covered in water.
Why, you ask??

Because she insisted on winning.

Tonight while we were eating dinner she climbed up one of the upper cabinets in our kitchen to the ledge above. As Khalil was saying, "Rory! Get Down!" I was saying, "Quick! Get the Camera!" (we have different philosophies about what is and is not cute regarding Rory's behaviors.)
As I was scrambling to get the camera, she jumped onto the ledge above the cabinets. I should describe. This is a set of free standing cabinets, above the stove. There are four cabinets. There are windows on both side- well, a small window on one side, the ledge of which she used to use to climb up that high, and the sliding glass doors on the other side with ugly mauve blinds (hopefully the blinds are being banished soon.) So. We use a water bottle to try and *insert hysterical laughter* get Rory to listen to us. Ha ha ha. This kitten does what she wants, when she wants. So Khalil gets the water bottle and I start yelling, cuz she's still not good about getting down from this particular ledge. I didn't want her to jump down. That's a good six feet. Maybe seven? I don't know.
He sprays her from one end.
She runs to the other.
He sprays her on there to try and get her to jump to the window ledge.
She runs back towards the doors.
They go back and forth at least ten times.
I have now dissolved into hysterical laughter because he's expressing his frustration with not being able to make her do what he wants, dammit.
He eventually got her down. But now she's asleep on me and smells more like wet puppy than cute kitten.
She won though. She got down when she was good and ready.

Heard in the Q. Household Tonight

2005-10-31T16:57:00.000-08:00

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

2005-10-31T15:10:00.000-08:00

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

2005-10-30T05:44:00.000-08:00

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.

Less of Paige

I'm MOVING!!

Step Away From the Pumpkin-Chocolate Chip Cookies

Fall is Here

Love Thursday

Compliments

Two Weeks

Burnt

Love Thursday

Children are not puppies

Love Thursday

Clothes

The Irony of it All

My Family

Moving On

I did it.

Love Thursday

Consequences

The Tunnel

*coughsorrycough*

Improvement

Go me! It's my birthday!

Summer

Community

The Skinny Folk

Food Rehab?

Fast Food

Change of Plans

What Sucks

The First Week

Changes. Again.

Starting From Scratch

Getting Ready

Goodbye Old Friend

Foodaholics Anonymous

The Good Stuff

The Big Question

Sometimes God Talks Through The Radio

Lifetime

Scales and Choices

The Measuring Tape, my new best friend

Movin' on Down

Addiction

No Pain, No Gain

It only took 6 weeks

My legs hurt!

Weighty Issues in Blogland

Nine Days

We Need a New Pill

Needing a Break

Big Changes

Stupid Friday Stupid

Adjustments

Sad and Amazing

Community

It's Friday and I'm not crying

Who Am I Kidding??

Me 'n Billy

The Dreaded E-Word

Earth Shattering Revelations

"I'm trying, but it's hard"

My Lovely Valentine

Fat Girls Want To be Cute, Too

We are Winter's Bitch

Friday Update!

The New Deal

Snail and Hippo

For Kicks

On a Roll

SuperBowl Sunday

Today is FRIDAY!!!

A La Cuisine!! ???

Fridays

How's it Going?

What makes a friend?

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

Internal Tapes

Family. Here.

Snow Day...

They're Baack...

coughsorrycough