I'm Still Here

I've been thinking about writing this blog post since February. It's now almost May. I guess I'll never be accused of being speedy.

There's a saying that the definition of insanity is to keep doing the same thing over and over while expecting a different outcome. And if you take away the expectation, then what you have is a habit.

In January, I went temporarily insane. While in the States in December, I jumped onto the newest diet bandwagon, anxious to start it right away, full of hopes and dreams that this time was going to be it. It was going to be the magic bullet and solve all of my weight problems and I'd be thin and happy and rich and you get the picture. I grabbed onto this diet with both hands like it was a lifeline and wanted it to be that. But secretly, deep down- after thirty plus years of trying every diet out there- I hate 'diets' because I know that they don't work long-term and the statistics are consistent enough to back that up.

I lasted 3 days on the 7 day detox phase where the only thing you ate was fruits and vegetables. My capacity for any diet is 3 weeks and true to form, by the third week I began feeling anxious, restless and most of all, deprived. In the end I gave up on that particular diet, but not my determination to lead a healthier life.

In February, the boys were out a week with a terrible bout of the flu- different weeks of course- and I used food as my coping mechanism. But when it was over, I was aware of what I had done and was determined not to use it as an excuse to slide into one long binge.

On February 18th, I started walking-not for exercise or to lose weight- but in an effort to get a handle on my anxiety. The first day, my husband went with me. I had asked him and even though we're separated, he would help me like that. I was afraid that I wouldn't make it or worse that one or both of my knees would buckle. I managed 14 minutes- 7 minutes one way and 7 minutes back. Granted, I had to hang onto my husband to get back, but I did make it.

I've been walking ever since and am now up to 30 minutes. I've discovered the 99 acre Demesne park in town and it's quite lovely as you can see from the pictures.

And after two months, I can see a difference. Thursday, we took the boys to the Fota Wildlife Park and we were there for over 5 hours and I managed to walk the entire thing. Granted, I would have to sit down on a bench and rest at times, but dammit, I was able to do something with my boys. At Christmas, I could barely stand up. A pair of pants that I had bought in December, are now falling off of me and I love wearing them because it reminds me that I'm doing it. Right now.

Unlike other attempts in the past where I would try to figure out the maximum amount of weight I could lose in the shortest possible time, I'm taking this one slow. I'm happy with my weight loss so far and am ok with the fact that I have many more pounds to go.

One day at a time.

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