It's That Time Again

It's that time of the month again.

Despite everything, I got on the scale and faced up to the fact that since the last weigh in, things haven't been good and I have no one to blame but myself.

Here are the stats and it isn't pretty:

313 lbs
22.5 stone
142.8 kg

I'm right back where I started: square one. In 2 months, I've come full circle. I've gained back the weight that I lost. It was the shortest yo yo diet I've ever been on.

I don't feel sorry for myself and I'm not beating myself up over it. It is what it is. I will dust myself off and get back up.

Besides, I'm afflicted with a terrible condition: it's a thing called hope and I've got it in spades. Deep down inside, somewhere, I believe, no- I know, that I'm going to pull myself together, close my mouth and fulfill my potential and be my ideal weight.

I've gained weight. I'm no further ahead as far as getting out of my dysfunctional marriage than I was 5 months ago. I agonise over how the divorce will affect the boys. I'm struggling with 2 very different drafts of the same novel that I've been trying to write for the last year.

And yet, I feel happy today. Perhaps it was the sunshine. It could have been the realization that I'm analyzing details too much instead of focusing on outcomes. Or maybe- just maybe- it was the fact that I didn't beat myself up. Maybe today, I'd love myself, faults and all.

Tomorrow, I may be on that slide into despair. But I have today. And I'm full of hope.


Do not worry if you have built your castles in the air. They are where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.

Henry David Thoreau

Blind In One Eye And Can't See Out The Other

I have been struggling with this post since Monday.

Initially when I started this blog it was in an attempt to get control of my life and more specifically, my weight. As of late, I've blogged about everything else but what I've set out to do. I thought blogging would be kind of an aversion therapy by putting my demons out there in the public domain. Instead, I've realized how serious my avoidance issues are. In my life, I can be accused, tried and convicted of ignoring problems in the hopes that they will just magically disappear. My warped reasoning is that if I don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist. Which is what is happening now.


Halfway through to my next weigh in, and I have to admit to struggling. I did the juicing for the prescribed 7 days and on the 7th day, I rested and ate an order of garlic and cheese fries. After only juice all week, it probably wasn't the best food to re-introduce to my digestive tract. Even the book says to ease back into eating. But not me. No, for some strange reason, I think that those rules don't apply to me. The cast iron stomach that I had in my 20's has eroded into a rust bucket.


As to the struggle, I can't explain it. I want to lose weight. I want to take control. Funny, when I was juicing, I felt great. The difference for me was very noticeable. Now, I still juice, irregularly but I do it. Sometimes, I'm not feeling so well, so I juice as a quick pick me upper. It always works.


So, what's the problem? That's just it- I don't know. If juicing makes me feel great, why am I overloading on carbs? I truly don't know the answer to that one. Am I lazy? Am I trying to bury feelings and stress? Or maybe, I don't want to- maybe-just maybe, I want to eat those carbs. Or is it a combination of all of the above plus more? The thought that maybe deep down I really don't want to give up food is overwhelming and maybe more than I can bear. It just can't be. I don't want to be fat! It's not that I want to be thin/slim, I want to be at an optimum level of health for me. And boy do I know that I'm not there now.


My online writer friend, Keris, has a blog, 500 to 40 and by doing so has gently reminded me of the purpose of my own blog. I'm addicted to her blogs- check them out: http://dellasays.wordpress.com/ and http://500to40.wordpress.com/


I constantly refer to this as a struggle. And I'm a big believer in 'thoughts become things.' So perhaps, I'm setting myself up for failure with my thoughts. Or maybe, I just think too much.

I'm off the beaten track but don't worry, I'm clawing my way back.

It isn't until you begin to fight in your own cause that you become committed to winning.

Robin Morgan

Cabin Fever

Ireland is in the middle of its longest cold snap since 1963. The temperature has dipped below freezing, the roads are covered in ice and there seems to be no break in the forecast.

As a former Buffalonian, I'm taking this one in stride. Like others, I've been stranded (blizzard of '85), my flight has been delayed (blizzard of 2001) and I've rolled over on many a morning after hearing Danny Neavereth on the radio announce that my school was closed. I love snow days- but that's for another blog.

Ireland, bless her heart, is not prepared for this. The big rain cloud that usually hovers over the island ran off for cover with the arrival of the Artic Blast. Stories abound of burst pipes and car accidents. I can handle the driving despite the fact that there is no such thing as all season radials.

What I can't handle is cabin fever. And I've got a bad case of it.

The boys were let out of school for Christmas break on Dec. 22nd. They were supposed to go back yesterday, Jan. 7th. Despite the visit by Santa, they're bored and I've become their number 1 playmate. Yesterday, I got a text telling me that school would reopen on Monday the 11th. Ok. Then tonight, Batt O'Keefe, the education minister, announced that all schools would remain closed until next Thurs the 14th.

It was at that point that I collapsed on the couch and stuck a knitting needle into the middle of my forehead. All I know is that there are a lot of days between now and next Thursday. I refuse to count them. I don't think I could handle it.

We've played every game, put together every toy and watched every DVD. They were outside yesterday for 30 minutes but they must have come in about 30 times.
"My gloves are wet."
"I don't want to wear a hat."
"My socks are wet."
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"What are you doing?"
"Can you fill the pail with water?"
"Can I eat the snow?"
"Can I come in? I'm cold."

We play swords. A lot. If I simply walk by Daniel, I get, "Hey, Mommy, you want to play swords?" What can I do? I've copped on and now manage to fight from a sitting position and I leave all the running and jumping to the boys. However, the 2 of them together are lethal and despite the fact that they're made of foam(the swords not the boys), I'm the one who usually ends up getting hurt. Michael swings his sword like a bat and I now have to wear the Snake Eyes helmet for protection. Although I must admit the black helmet with the pink, fluffy bathrobe is kind of snazzy.

I invited a few of their friends over for play dates but that deteriorated during one play date when my boys started fighting with each other. The kid yelled, "If you 2 don't stop fighting, I'm going home." This same kid also yelled, "Daniel, stop that shouting," when Daniel tried to impress him with his ninja moves.

It's amazing how the screaming and fighting escalate when I a) get on the phone, b) go to the bathroom and c) start taking my clothes off to get dressed.

If I stretch out on the couch, Daniel will tap me and say "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy," about 400 hundred times until I open my eyes. Michael thinks that because my eyes are closed our faces need to be touching in order for me to know that he's there. Oh don't worry, my darling Michael, Mommy knows you're there.

We had a pajama day one day and now they think every day should be a pyjama day. If I didn't insist they get dressed, they'd still be wearing their pyjamas from Christmas.

Michael has gone through an industrial role of scotch tape and about 500 sheets of printer paper wrapping everything up to send to my mother. If I stand still long enough, he'll probably wrap me up.

Tonight, Daniel clunked by me, his gait unsteady, wearing a pair of roller skates. I like to think that maybe I was hallucinating.

Next Thursday, I don't care if there is 10 feet of snow outside and I have to walk barefoot with the 2 of them on my back. They ARE going back to school.

Serendipity

Saturday was a serendipitous day.

Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary describes serendipity as "the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for."

First off, my writer friend, Keris, mentioned in her blog that last year she focused on 'abundance' with some good results. That reminded me that I already knew this, but I needed to start applying it to my own life if I'm ever to escape this financial inertia.

Secondly, another writer friend, Jacqui, in a comment to Debs Riccio's blog, mentioned The Adventurer's Club (http://www.tut.com/theclub/) and I had to check it out. If you're a big fan of The Secret, this site is worth checking out.

Lastly, yet another writer friend, Avis, casually mentioned to me about the Fast First Draft group on the Write Words website. It's similar to NaNoWriMo. For those of you unfamiliar with NaNoWriMo it's short for National Novel Writing Month which takes place every November and you attempt to write a book (about 50,000 words) by the end of the month, without editing it as you go along. I managed 37k with everything going on. But I did complete it in 2008. Anyways, apparently they've started a similar group on WW which I must check out if I'm going to keep my resolution of writing 500 words a day.

I don't believe in coincidence, to me there is no such thing. A coincidence is merely a sign from the Universe. On Saturday, the universe sent me a lot of information that I needed, but wasn't necessarily looking for.



Already, 2010 feels so much better.



Whether she liked it or not, books always appeared when she needed them.



Sarah Allen

Juicer Couture

Like many, I have been seduced by products and kitchen gadgets that promised me the world- or at the very least to slice, dice and chop- only to realize I'd been 'had.' Aside from Eastenders, I'm not much of a tv watcher but I will admit to one guilty pleasure. I love infomercials. Given the chance and the ability to strong arm the tv away from my son, I'd watch infomercials all day long. With a smile and shampoo commercial hair, they promise you the world and frankly, I find it all quite mesmerizing. They're going to straighten my hair, tone my abs and vacuum seal my veggies. And if I order in the next 30 seconds, they'll throw in a potato peeler to boot. Hand on heart, I will admit to ordering from infomercials, especially in the middle of the night. I've been disappointed to say the least. The clay pot remained in its box and never saw the light of day let alone an oven. My intentions were good with Core Secrets, however a big woman trying to balance herself on an exercise ball is not a sight to behold. I needed Mike's help to stabilize my body on the ball before I could even begin the exercises. There was also a Pilates program that I ordered only to discover that to do some of those exercises, you had to have a body like the one you wanted. As I write this, a common theme revolving around my purchases emerges. It all has to do with food or exercise. And sometimes straight hair.


However, I became addicted to the Jack LaLanne infomercials pushing his juicers. Now, I'm not a fruit eater as fruit does nothing for me. Give me veggies any day. But the juiced fruit that I saw on tv set my pulse racing. I thought how wonderful it would be to have fresh, juiced fruit every morning instead of orange juice from a tetra pack.


For a good year, I thought about it and watched the infomercial. Alot. About 8 months ago, on a whim, I walked into our local appliance store just to see if they carried any juicers. And what do you think greeted me when I walked into that store? Yep- a stack of juicers and they were on sale! I bought my Phillips juicer on the spot. For 2 months straight, I juiced every morning for the 4 of us. I'd juice apples, oranges, pineapples, kiwi, pears and blueberries and I loved it. But the boys weren't quite sold. They, especially Daniel, preferred the store bought juice.


Recently, I pulled out the juicer again and put it to use. I love juiced fruit. A book by Jason Vale, The Juice Master, 7lbs in 7 days- super juice diet had been included with the juicer but I had thrown it in the drawer. About a month ago, I read it and thought, well, this is only for 7 days, surely I could handle that. In previous posts, I've made it very clear how I feel about dieting.


Today is my third day. And I like it. You juice 5 times a day and that's all you have for a week. Initially, I was concerned about some of the items on the grocery list such as alfalfa sprouts, kale and spinach but after tasting it, I was soon converted.


On the plus side, I do have more energy. Granted, I'm no dynamo but I'm not feeling sluggish 24/7 and wondering when the next nap is happening. I'm not a morning person but I've been getting up earlier than usual. Also, I've found my ankles again. They were beginning to look like an elephant's ankles: all thick and wrinkly. Surprisingly, I'm not hungry and you'd think with drinking only juice for a week you'd be really hungry but you're not. Best of all, I've had no cravings for things like bread, chocolate and other processed carbohydrates. And for that alone, it's worth it.


On the downside, there is the expense and the clean up. It costs alot to buy the fruit and veggies- about 70 euros for the week, but if you're eating nothing else, it probably isn't too bad. Plus there are supplements: spirulina, wheat grass and friendly bacteria. These I purchased from http://www.juicemaster.com. In addition to the juicer, you need a blender. Juicing 5 times a day means cleaning juicer parts 5 times a day. Not for the faint of heart. After the first day, I copped on and now make some of the juices ahead of time, so I'm only cleaning it 2-3 times a day.

Could I do a juice only routine for the rest of my life? No. Too much of a good thing is not a good thing. Would I incorporate some form of juicing into my daily life? Definitely, I enjoy it too much not to.

Happy New Year! I hope that 2010 brings you the best of everything.

I would never be young again. You don't know enough about yourself to live life properly. My juices didn't really begin flowing until I turned 40.

Shirley MacLaine

26th

I hope that everyone had a Merry Christmas.

Today is the 26th and I promised myself and you as well that I would weigh myself on the 26th of every month. The month has gone by fast.

Here are today's stats:

309 pounds
21.13 stone
140.1 kg

I've lost 6 pounds since last month. At my current weight, if I had strictly dieted, I would have probably dropped about 20- 30 pounds. But the mere mention of the word, 'diet' produces a nervous tic. I'm more interested in lifestyle changes than dieting. Now I can beat myself up for lack of perfection (as I would have done in the past) or I can celebrate the baby step of progress. I choose the latter. Besides, it took 30 years to get to this point, so I've accepted the fact that it won't be resolved overnight.

I did achieve my main goal of going cold turkey off the Galaxy chocolate bars. To cope with a stress level in the stratosphere, I comforted myself with 2-3 family sized Galaxy bars a day. I'd always have a supply of 6-8 bars on hand and when the last bar was finished, I'd start to get anxious and restless, which would only be relieved by a trip to the store to stock up and at 1.50 a crack, it wasn't cheap. I felt that before I did anything, I had to break this habit first. Initially it was very difficult, and I did slip up, but since that slip up, I haven't had any of the Galaxy bars. There was an immediate impact from this: my ulcer calmed down. Previously, every bar eaten induced terrible gastric pain and a lot of acid reflux. The pain is gone and the reflux has lessened.

It hasn't been an easy month. A disappointing court decision led to my head being buried in a Dorito bag for 2 days. And then there's the whole Christmas season, which I love and all those Christmas cookies. But let's face it- when is life not stressful? But this last month is behind me and now, I look forward.

As I head into my second month, I want to concentrate on two things. I want to drink more water and I want to move my body. Pulling myself up to a stand or getting up from a chair does not constitute a work out, no matter how much it feels like one. It's time to start some form of exercise that will be gentle on my joints.

Start weight: 315 lbs
Goal weight: 284 lbs (10% weight loss)
Current weight: 309 lbs.

There is no failure except in no longer trying. There is no defeat except from within, no insurmountable barrier except our own inherent weakness of purpose.

Elbert Hubbard

The Dog Days of Winter

I heard a story the other day that still has me laughing MAO every time I think about it. And with the week I'd been having, a good laugh was what I was in desperate need of.

It's all about a dog named Bear. My sister, Bec, picked up a dog from the pound last year. A Great Dane/ Lab mix, he was an eight month old puppy that had been abandoned. Bec has four kids and he immediately became attached to both my sister and the kids as well as being fiercely protective of them.

He's a big dog and for the most part, gentle as most large breeds are. And like most dogs, he is a pack animal who suffers from severe separation anxiety when they are gone, as evidenced by the following:

-he ate my sister's Christmas cards last week. They were all ready to go save stamps, but they went another route other than the postal one.
-he has learned how to open doors. Everything is game. He opens the front door and walks outside but then will come back in and do his business. No one wants a dog's mess in the house especially a large one. Especially a large one that just ate a whole bunch of Christmas cards.
-he opened the pantry door one day and ate all the cereal.
-he learned how to open the refrigerator and ate all the ricotta cheese so my sister couldn't make lasagna. She has to bungee cord the refrigerator closed at night. Apparently, Bec has a routine before she goes to bed to protect the house.
-did you say crate? Yeah, she tried crating him while they were gone and they returned to find him out of the crate and the crate itself was a mangled mess.

It's probably a combination of the puppy in him as well as the anxiety. Apparently, my sister is ready to give him his walking papers. After the cost of blood work at the vet -to determine what I don't know- which was normal, they suggested a behavioral specialist. I hope he gets a reprieve if only for the laugh he provided for me. I'm sure that if he were my dog, I wouldn't find this funny, but some day when my sister looks back, she will laugh at this. I hope.

I have my own theory. I think the holidays make dogs nutty. My brother's dog, Champ, ate 7 pounds of Christmas cookies last week which resulted in my sister in law pulling a plastic bag out of his ass. When I had an apartment with my friend Paula, my dog Brody chewed through her gifts to get to the box of chocolates. When we were kids, we returned home on Christmas night to find that our dog, Boots, had eaten a spray painted macaroni wreath. My mother called poison control. The dog lived.

What does a dog do on his day off? He can't lie around- that's his job.

George Carlin