Okay, so I know I have already posted…but I was just stumbling around on etsy and ran across this little grape jelly treasure…
…perfect for that hard to buy for special someone for Valentine’s day, or any old day. Check it out here. Friggin’ adorable!
Some bad thoughts and feelings have been floating around in my day to day lately. Work has been beyond insane. School is a close second. It’s the kind of busy that means even when you are not actually busy, you are busy thinking about how you should be. Busy, that is.
On top of that I have had a sinus headache for over a week that sometimes causes me to forget how to think and turns me into a gigantic snatch bag.
This kind of busy-ness and pain at this time of year leads me to sometimes look at all aspects of my life in a negative light…or maybe just the dull, dark light of a midwestern winter. This morning I took some time, work be damned, and did some internal reflection. It had been a long while since I pulled out my journals and had a good sit down with myself and God. The time flew by, and although I felt slightly more at ease then I had upon waking, it was hard to drag myself to work. Thankfully my forever friend Rach was waiting, hearing the wrongness in my voice I didn’t even know was there.
Rach is a great talker. She loves to spin an animated yarn, and even when she tells stories I’ve already heard I love to hear them again. Beyond that she is an even better listener. She always makes me feel as if there is no one in the world at that moment more important to her than little ole’ me. So she planted herself in my antique office chair I inherited from a let-go co-worker and fixed her sweet little eyes on me, and I just talked. And cried.
Ever notice how sometimes when you talk about a problem or a fear or whatever, it shrinks in size? The giant that lived inside of your brain comes out, and you realize maybe it wasn’t such a menacing character after all. Maybe it was more like Shrek or Bilbo Baggins. After our limited chat session, we went back to our respective jobs. I left work and came home to make one of my favorite meals in the world: fish tacos. I read some of my old journal entries…and realized maybe everything was okay, or at the very least going to be. Shrek came and sat on my lap and asked for a bite of fish taco, and me and my worries ate and read together.
There isn’t a need to talk about the specifics. Rach and my personal journal had their share, and it is out of me now. My worries are by no means gone, but they are manageable. Right now I am off to go plan a weekend trip for the boring couple known as JP and Abfab, and hopefully Shrek will stay here and watch the dogs.
Convince yourself that everything is alright
‘Cos it already is – Pete Yorn, For Nancy
Because today actually is Ground Hog’s day.
So in the spirit of Bill Murray, I have decided to change things up a bit. I have rallied the troops, and we are gonna kick our fat’s ass.
Last September when C and I went to the Joyce Meyer Convention, one of the speakers brought up the topic of the child (little girl, as it was a women’s convention) inside of all of us. The child that seeks comfort and approval, and can easily go to God with the blind and unquestioning faith that only children can own. On our drive home we talked about EVERYTHING, as that is what we do, and of course the subject of our mutual struggles with comfort eating came up. Anyway, somehow the joke started that our internal children were big fat babies. Our internal babies waddled about with sticky hands and eyes that lit up at the mention of donuts, cheetos, and everything in between. Our babies had fruit loops and vanilla wafers stashed in their diapers. Our babies needed some tough love.
This running joke was way more funny in the car then it is coming across in this post. I mean we were crying with the imagery. We stopped to get gas and snacks and, of course, our big fat babies wanted everything in sight.
Obviously, a little over 4 months later, nothing has really changed. Our babies are still fat. Yesterday we were emailing each other back and forth, trying to come up with a plan that would motivate both of us. We decided that we would weigh in with each other weekly and be proactive in helping each other. I also decided that I would attempt to cut back on carbs.
There it is. I just typed it so it must be true.
I have tried this for extremely short periods of time before. My Mom was diagnosed as a pre-diabetic about 5 years ago and went on a lower carb diet (30-40) per day of her own design. She lost 45 pounds in 6 months. She stayed lower carb for awhile, and then gradually went back to carbs again, and has gained about half back. She and I had a long talk about this yesterday. We have different body types, but our metabolisms and eating patterns are the same. We have issues with binge and comfort eating, and we both love our sweets and starches. When I tried low carb in the past, it was like someone turned off a switch in my brain. The cravings for pretty much everything just went away for the most part. My Mom said the same thing. Once she got going with it, it was easy.
So today is our day one. Mom and Crista and I are putting our babies on diets. Our babies have become out of control, and Dr. Spock would be quite upset with us. Honestly, if I had a real toddler running around, I would never in a million years let it eat half the shit I put in my own mouth, so why should I treat my own internal child with such disdain?
Now, when I say low carb, it isn’t going to be all cheese, beef and eggs. During my convo with my Momma yesterday we went over the ins and outs. Lots of veggies. Most carbs coming from fruit. Organic nut butters. Nuts and low fat cheeses. Lean meats. Low carb whole grain (mission makes a great low carb wrap). It’s gonna be wicked hard at first, but it’s time. And like Mom said, once we get into the swing of it, it will become easy.
So, my new starting weight: 186.4
I am not a glutton. I am an explorer of food. – - Erma Bombeck
I got home from work last night, all giddy as I thought I would have to work today and I then found out I didn’t, and I was in the mood to do something. ANYTHING.
There is just one problem with that. We, as in my adorable husband and I, have suddenly become boring.
Okay, so it wasn’t so sudden. It’s been a gradual thing over the last few years. Lately it has become all too obvious, though. Last weekend after we found out the Colts would indeed be going to the super bowl, we were invited to a super bowl party at a friend’s house. Kev asked James if we were going to go and he told him no. This isn’t necessarily because we are boring. James HATES watching games with people. He turns all Nervous Nelly and can’t stand people talking over the announcers. It is very important to him that absolutely no fun is had during the watching of any football game, unless the two-minute warning has passed and his team is ahead by AT LEAST 47 points. Kevin knows this, but regardless when he heard we would not be attending the super bowl party in question his response was a sarcastic laugh followed by “Of course not! You guys are a hundred years old! You never do ANYTHING!”
I gotta give the kid credit. We are indeed 100 years old, and our idea of a wild night is having a Miller Lite while we watch “The Soup” and play Skip-Bo.
I have to say, and I believe JP feels the same way, that since we quit smoking drinking just isn’t all that fun anymore. I still like a beer or a glass of wine now and again, but that’s about it. James had a slight flirtation with alcohol poisoning this past summer while he was working out of town, and since then I have seen him slightly tipsy once. I’m sure that night (and the following two days that I hear involved A LOT of long island tea flavored vomit) had a little something to do with the face he makes every now and again when alcohol is brought up. A few New Years Eve’s ago I had a similar experience with buttery nipples. I will never, I repeat NEVER, drink one again. I am just thankful it wasn’t beer that night. I do love my beer.
Beyond the drinking, though, we have gotten a little comfortable in our day to day. That’s a nice way of saying lazy. A lot of it has to do with it being winter time and James working a zillion hours a week, unless he isn’t working at all and then we have no money to do anything. We also had a good set of couple friends move away. K is always busy with his band. Other friends we have just lost touch with, and we have made no effort to get them back. Its easier to go get Taco Bell and sit at home in front of Kitchen Nightmares or Tosh.o reruns on a Friday night…which is exactly what we ended up doing last night.
I have to admit there is a big part of me that is frustrated by this. I WANT to do stuff. But sometimes, after I’ve worked 40+ sometimes very stressful hours, plus written a couple of papers for school, made some dinners, worked out a few times and kept the house relatively clean…well, by time the weekend roles around I kinda just want to sit and turn off the ole’ brain for a bit.
I know our new found boringness most likely won’t last forever. We go through cycles in our marriage and in our personalities where we are insanely active and involved in something and then it just kind of dies off. I’m sure soon we will find a new hobby or new interest to do together. At least I hope so. We are only in our mid-thirties. I am not quite so settled that I want to start watching Matlock reruns and reading back issues of AARP on a Friday night.
On a happier note, the sun is out. Of course I can’t feel my feet because the stained cement floor of the office has reached sub zero temperatures, but hey, you can’t have everything. I think I am gonna go make a few new pieces I have floating around in my brain right now before they drive me nuts and take some pictures before the sun goes back to hiding under some huge rock. And we are both off tomorrow, so maybe I’ll talk JP into doing something tonight. Or maybe we’ll just stay in and play skip-bo and watch a Bully Beatdown marathon on MTV. Whatever.
What’s wrong with being a boring kind of guy? – George H.W. Bush
Yes, I know it isn’t Ground Hog’s Day yet (typing that led me to ponder…is it necessary to capitilize it?), but today I feel a bit like Bill Murray’s character in the movie. I have once again “started over” in the world of Weight Watchers. I did fine yesterday, being another Day One and all. I woke up this morning just feeling defeated, and part of me can’t help but wonder – why do I keep doing this? Not the screwing up, but the trying at all? It’s self-deprecating. I am doing nothing but proving to myself over and over that I am not strong enough to follow through. At least not on my own.
I know that there is more to this than will power. I think it’s time that I research options outside of eating plans. I need to find a way to cope with my emotions that doesn’t involve food, and I also need to really commit to a new lifestyle that involves being kind to my body. My pattern now is to stay on track for a few days, and then something comes up and I get down about myself and no longer care, or I just want to comfort myself with food, which in the end isn’t comforting at all.
I feel like I just keep doing the same thing and making the same mistakes over and over again. I am sick to death of it. I am not learning or growing in this area of my life at all. If anything I am starting to think about giving up on myself, on trying to live the healthy lifestyle I really want deep down, because it’s hard. That last word was said in my ultra-whiney voice, and believe me, it was mucho annoying.
So, something has to change. This week will be about not only staying on program but looking for a new way to cope with life and break bad habits.
Reality is negotiable. – Donald Latumahina
