I don't want my weight to be the central story of my life anymore.
It seems as though for as long as I can remember I've worried about my weight and had others worrying about, commenting on and being concerned about my weight.
As a kid, I was bullied and tortured by other kids because I was fat. Then I shot up in height and lost a lot of weight in high school. Suddenly I was thin and had no idea how to be a thin person. Boys noticed me, but for different reasons than when I was fat. I actually had boyfriends. And then over the years as I struggled with leaving home, college, jobs, and learning to become a grown up my weight went up and down and up and down and up and down.
And then my weight went up and then up some more and then up some more after that.
Until last year when I reached the heaviest I've ever been.
And all along people have noticed and commented - when I've been thin when I've been heavy and at all stages in between.
Truth be told....I'm kind of sick of it.
Yes, I'm fat.
I know that.
Although I know you mean to be kind, you don't have to tell me that you're worried about me or that I'm doing a great job losing the weight.
I'm exercising everyday, watching what I eat and the weight is coming off. Not in a dramatic "I lost 47 pounds in 9 weeks!" kind of way (although if that was at all a healthy possibility, I might be tempted...), but in a very healthy 1-2 pounds per week kind of way. Being healthy is my focus and my goal. There is also a "goal weight" in my mind, but I'm keeping that to myself.
So, folks, if you don't mind...I just really don't want to talk about it anymore.
30 May 2010
27 May 2010
Things I don't understand...
The whole "wearing my pants down around my knees" phenomenon among young guys (and some unfortunate young women.) I saw one the other day whose pants were just below his butt cheeks. Below his BUTT CHEEKS people. And he was wearing a BELT (apparently so the pants didn't fall off altogether?) What the hell is up with that???
Facial piercings and nipple piercings. Yeah. Just don't get that. Ouch. And - as comedian Bill Engvall would say - people who "landscape the private property." DEFINITELY don't understand that at all. Eeeuuuwwww.
People who are cruel to animals.
The continuing trend in foo-foo-shi-shi restaurants to pile food in a single tall column on my plate.
Why our cat Cecil wanders around the house with her favorite toy in her mouth MOANING pitifully and then when I actually throw it for her she just stares at me with a look of blank incomprehension.
Why I can only manage to keep my house tidy for a few days before it slides back into clutterdom.
"The Bachelor," "The Bachelorette," and all other forms of reality television with a bent toward romance, sex and people supposedly falling in love. Really? Seriously? Why?
Why I am still on the non-profit, fund-raising merry-go-round.
That it's taken me so long in my life to realize what's truly important.
Facial piercings and nipple piercings. Yeah. Just don't get that. Ouch. And - as comedian Bill Engvall would say - people who "landscape the private property." DEFINITELY don't understand that at all. Eeeuuuwwww.
People who are cruel to animals.
The continuing trend in foo-foo-shi-shi restaurants to pile food in a single tall column on my plate.
Why our cat Cecil wanders around the house with her favorite toy in her mouth MOANING pitifully and then when I actually throw it for her she just stares at me with a look of blank incomprehension.
Why I can only manage to keep my house tidy for a few days before it slides back into clutterdom.
"The Bachelor," "The Bachelorette," and all other forms of reality television with a bent toward romance, sex and people supposedly falling in love. Really? Seriously? Why?
Why I am still on the non-profit, fund-raising merry-go-round.
That it's taken me so long in my life to realize what's truly important.
23 May 2010
Wishes...
I'm feeling kind of disconnected from the adoption these days with nothing adoption related to "do" except wait.
Life has just kind of been rolling forward via its natural tendency to do so.
Work, eat, watch tv, Facebook, blog, ignore the basement, sleep, repeat.
Yesterday, we spend the afternoon and evening with our little sister-in-law S while her parents attend a concert. We take her to see How to Train Your Dragon (we've all seen the movie already, but enjoy it just as much this time, especially S who sucks down a slushy and a good portion of a medium popcorn) and then out to our favorite Mexican food place (where 11 year-old S kicks my butt in our favorite card game and laughs at me when I sweat profusely through my enjoyment of a very spicy bowl of chili.)
Arriving back at her house, S and I take her little dog J out for a walk. Despite J's petite size, he pulls crazily at the leash and we hurry to keep up with him in his quest to smell all of the new and also the familiar and apparently tantalizing smells along his regular walk.
S tells me about some of the dogs that live in the neighborhood and a few of the cats. Finding the huge inflatable ball that had escaped from their yard earlier in the week, she spends the rest of the walk bouncing it off of her face soccer style and then when we're on a grassy path rolling over the top of the ball onto the ground. All of this startles J out of his mad sniffing, but he continues in the forward motion of a dog on a mission.
On our return walk home S asks me, "How old are you?"
"How old do you think I am?"
She shrugs. Face bounce.
"I am one year older than your mom."
She looks intently at me for a minute and then asks as she rolls over the top of her giant ball, "Are you ever going to have a kid?"
Hmmm.
Where'd this come from?
I could have sworn that we had talked to S about the adoption. I proceed as if we've never mentioned it.
"Well, Chris and I are actually going to be a adopting a baby soon."
"When?" she asks as she bounces the ball off of her face again.
"We're not sure about that yet. Right now we're just waiting to hear back. We've done everything that we're supposed to do and now we're just waiting. Hopefully it'll just be a few more months because we've already been waiting for a few months."
She looks thoughtful for a minute and then asks between face ball bounces, "So, it could be months?"
"Yup."
"But you don't know for sure?" Rolling over the ball on the ground again.
"Nope."
"So then maybe it could even be weeks!" she says happily with another face ball bounce.
"Well, that would surely be nice," I reply, "but-"
"Or maybe even days!!!" she says with the gleeful enthusiasm of an 11 year-old who is warming up to her subject. "It could just be days!!!"
"I don't know about that, S," I say with a smile. "That might be a miracle if it was just days."
She stops and looks at me, "But it COULD be, right?"
"Probably not, but it's nice to think that."
"Are you going to get a boy or a girl?" S asks with yet another face bounce of her ball.
"We'd like to get a girl."
"Why?" Bounce. Bounce.
"I guess I think girls are kind of easier than boys. I'm not sure I'd know what to do with a boy."
She looks at me once again, thoughtful, "Sometimes girls are easier than boys, but not always. I did a lot of bad stuff like staying out too late and I wasn't easy, but I also do all the stuff that boys do so I guess my mom and dad kind of got both."
The wisdom of an 11 year-old.
We get to the end of the grassy path and S points to a giant flat grey boulder that is bisected by an almost perfectly straight white line. "Do you see this white line?" S asks me. I nod. "This means that this is a LUCKY rock. So if you roll around on top of it and make a wish your wish will come true."
I must look a little dubious because she adds, "Well, you don't have to roll around on top of it. You can just rub it if you want to. I'm going to make a wish!"
She closes her eyes, lays down on top of the boulder and rubs it with her hands. Her eyes squinch shut tighter. Looks like she is wishing very hard. Finally after a full minute of wishing she jumps up and says, "You can make a wish if you want to."
"What'd you wish for?" I ask. She looks at me like I've lost my mind. "Or can you not tell me because then your wish won't come true."
She nods vigorously.
"Oh, of course. I should have realized that. Guess I better make a wish, too."
I opt not to lie down on the boulder, but instead rub it gently as I make my wish.
"What did you wish for?" S asks me when I open my eyes.
"I thought I wasn't supposed to tell or else my wish won't come true."
"Oh, right," she says in all seriousness.
We continue on our walk home, but before we get more than 20 paces S says, "Wait, I have to go make another wish!" and races back to the boulder where she again lays on top of it. J strains at the leash looking in the direction that S has gone. He watches her intently as she makes her wish and then visibly relaxes as she returns to us.
"All set?" I ask.
S gives me a single firm nod and we head back to the house for some bedtime stories with Chris. J is in the lead his little legs pumping hard and his nose firmly pointed downward smelling all of the smells he can get in before then end of our walk.
I don't know what S wished for on the lucky boulder.
But I know what I wished for...
Life has just kind of been rolling forward via its natural tendency to do so.
Work, eat, watch tv, Facebook, blog, ignore the basement, sleep, repeat.
Yesterday, we spend the afternoon and evening with our little sister-in-law S while her parents attend a concert. We take her to see How to Train Your Dragon (we've all seen the movie already, but enjoy it just as much this time, especially S who sucks down a slushy and a good portion of a medium popcorn) and then out to our favorite Mexican food place (where 11 year-old S kicks my butt in our favorite card game and laughs at me when I sweat profusely through my enjoyment of a very spicy bowl of chili.)
Arriving back at her house, S and I take her little dog J out for a walk. Despite J's petite size, he pulls crazily at the leash and we hurry to keep up with him in his quest to smell all of the new and also the familiar and apparently tantalizing smells along his regular walk.
S tells me about some of the dogs that live in the neighborhood and a few of the cats. Finding the huge inflatable ball that had escaped from their yard earlier in the week, she spends the rest of the walk bouncing it off of her face soccer style and then when we're on a grassy path rolling over the top of the ball onto the ground. All of this startles J out of his mad sniffing, but he continues in the forward motion of a dog on a mission.
On our return walk home S asks me, "How old are you?"
"How old do you think I am?"
She shrugs. Face bounce.
"I am one year older than your mom."
She looks intently at me for a minute and then asks as she rolls over the top of her giant ball, "Are you ever going to have a kid?"
Hmmm.
Where'd this come from?
I could have sworn that we had talked to S about the adoption. I proceed as if we've never mentioned it.
"Well, Chris and I are actually going to be a adopting a baby soon."
"When?" she asks as she bounces the ball off of her face again.
"We're not sure about that yet. Right now we're just waiting to hear back. We've done everything that we're supposed to do and now we're just waiting. Hopefully it'll just be a few more months because we've already been waiting for a few months."
She looks thoughtful for a minute and then asks between face ball bounces, "So, it could be months?"
"Yup."
"But you don't know for sure?" Rolling over the ball on the ground again.
"Nope."
"So then maybe it could even be weeks!" she says happily with another face ball bounce.
"Well, that would surely be nice," I reply, "but-"
"Or maybe even days!!!" she says with the gleeful enthusiasm of an 11 year-old who is warming up to her subject. "It could just be days!!!"
"I don't know about that, S," I say with a smile. "That might be a miracle if it was just days."
She stops and looks at me, "But it COULD be, right?"
"Probably not, but it's nice to think that."
"Are you going to get a boy or a girl?" S asks with yet another face bounce of her ball.
"We'd like to get a girl."
"Why?" Bounce. Bounce.
"I guess I think girls are kind of easier than boys. I'm not sure I'd know what to do with a boy."
She looks at me once again, thoughtful, "Sometimes girls are easier than boys, but not always. I did a lot of bad stuff like staying out too late and I wasn't easy, but I also do all the stuff that boys do so I guess my mom and dad kind of got both."
The wisdom of an 11 year-old.
We get to the end of the grassy path and S points to a giant flat grey boulder that is bisected by an almost perfectly straight white line. "Do you see this white line?" S asks me. I nod. "This means that this is a LUCKY rock. So if you roll around on top of it and make a wish your wish will come true."
I must look a little dubious because she adds, "Well, you don't have to roll around on top of it. You can just rub it if you want to. I'm going to make a wish!"
She closes her eyes, lays down on top of the boulder and rubs it with her hands. Her eyes squinch shut tighter. Looks like she is wishing very hard. Finally after a full minute of wishing she jumps up and says, "You can make a wish if you want to."
"What'd you wish for?" I ask. She looks at me like I've lost my mind. "Or can you not tell me because then your wish won't come true."
She nods vigorously.
"Oh, of course. I should have realized that. Guess I better make a wish, too."
I opt not to lie down on the boulder, but instead rub it gently as I make my wish.
"What did you wish for?" S asks me when I open my eyes.
"I thought I wasn't supposed to tell or else my wish won't come true."
"Oh, right," she says in all seriousness.
We continue on our walk home, but before we get more than 20 paces S says, "Wait, I have to go make another wish!" and races back to the boulder where she again lays on top of it. J strains at the leash looking in the direction that S has gone. He watches her intently as she makes her wish and then visibly relaxes as she returns to us.
"All set?" I ask.
S gives me a single firm nod and we head back to the house for some bedtime stories with Chris. J is in the lead his little legs pumping hard and his nose firmly pointed downward smelling all of the smells he can get in before then end of our walk.
I don't know what S wished for on the lucky boulder.
But I know what I wished for...
22 May 2010
Procrastination...
This is me.
This is me sitting on the couch.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym where I should be doing thirty minutes of upper body weightlifting.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym where I should be doing thirty minutes of upper body weightlifting followed by thirty minutes of cardio on the bike.
This is me procrastinating.
OK.
This is me.
This is me ending this blog post.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym where I will be doing thirty minutes of upper body weight lifting.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym where I will be doing thirty minutes of upper body weight lifting followed by thirty minutes of cardio on the bike.
This is me trying to live my 2010 Healthy and Beyond resolution.
Wish me luck.
**Addendum**
This is me back from the gym after having lifted weights for 30 minutes and ridden the bike for another 30 minutes.
I rock!
This is me sitting on the couch.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym where I should be doing thirty minutes of upper body weightlifting.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym where I should be doing thirty minutes of upper body weightlifting followed by thirty minutes of cardio on the bike.
This is me procrastinating.
OK.
This is me.
This is me ending this blog post.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym where I will be doing thirty minutes of upper body weight lifting.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym where I will be doing thirty minutes of upper body weight lifting followed by thirty minutes of cardio on the bike.
This is me trying to live my 2010 Healthy and Beyond resolution.
Wish me luck.
**Addendum**
This is me back from the gym after having lifted weights for 30 minutes and ridden the bike for another 30 minutes.
I rock!
21 May 2010
Food for thought...
So the first e-mail I open this morning is from my sister. There is no text, just a link to a story from TODAY MOMS entitled Our Adoption Story Was a Facebook Fairytale.
In the story, the author, Seth, describes the tragic loss of his and his wife's twins when she went into labor at twenty weeks, their subsequent struggle with infertility and their journey into adoption. He writes:
They were parents by January 1, 2009.
While we've told people that we are adopting, we have not shared our profiles with them. That part of the adoption we've kept more private - leaving it to the adoption facilitators to get the word out about us.
Perhaps we've been going about this all wrong.
Any thoughts on this from out in the Blogosphere?
In the story, the author, Seth, describes the tragic loss of his and his wife's twins when she went into labor at twenty weeks, their subsequent struggle with infertility and their journey into adoption. He writes:
Feeling a little frustrated and trying to think of new ways to let people know we were interested in adoption, I put our adoption flyer as a PDF posting on my Facebook site late one night in early December 2008. It was more of a whim than a well thought out plan. My friend Jon took the flyer and put it on his site. On Dec. 8, 2008, his friend Jenny, to whom he hadn’t spoken in 20 years, saw the flyer and contacted me at work.
They were parents by January 1, 2009.
While we've told people that we are adopting, we have not shared our profiles with them. That part of the adoption we've kept more private - leaving it to the adoption facilitators to get the word out about us.
Perhaps we've been going about this all wrong.
Any thoughts on this from out in the Blogosphere?
20 May 2010
Faux post...
I want to write a really engaging and interesting blog post this evening, but I don't seem to have the necessary energy or brain power. As soon as I started typing, my eyes started feeling kind of droopy.
*yawns*
Is it stupid to write a post about how I'm not actually going to write a post because I'm going to go to bed instead?
Yeah.
That's pretty lame.
Guess I'll try again tomorrow.
G'night, Blogosphere.
Sleep well.
*yawns*
Is it stupid to write a post about how I'm not actually going to write a post because I'm going to go to bed instead?
Yeah.
That's pretty lame.
Guess I'll try again tomorrow.
G'night, Blogosphere.
Sleep well.
19 May 2010
No, none for YOOOUUUU, Jennifer...
13 dresses.
No that's not a movie.
That's how many plus size dresses I find during visits to three different department stores this evening. That's right - THREE department stores!
Macy's = No dresses (and nothing remotely dressy - just sloppy looking casual wear)
JCPenny = No dresses (just like Macy's...sack-y, sloppy looking sportswear)
Nordstrom = 13 dresses (13 really kind of sad looking, mother-of-the-bride-y looking, old lady looking dresses. Needless to say, I am not inspired to try any of them on.)
How can two national department stores not have a single plus size dress in their entire stock??? And the one department store that does has the most pitiful little selection tucked away in a corner - UGH! Horrible!
It's like the department store folks are just saying, "Oh, we're so sorry dear Fat Person, but there are noooooo nice dresses for you. Nope. Not here. We don't serve your kind. We don't actually need your money. Just go on your little merry way and make room for the thin deserving people."
WTF?
Talk about dispiriting.
I leave the mall feeling somewhat hopeless, but decide to go for one last try at Kohls since it's on my way home.
# of plus size dresses at Kohls = 7
# that do not look like completely shapeless potato sacks = 4
# that I try on = 4
# that look hideous on me = 3
# that fit and look moderately decent = 1
So I buy it.
Here's the thing. I am attending a wedding this weekend and realized rather belatedly that I don't have anything appropriate to wear for said wedding. Hence, my very frustrating and demoralizing visit to the mall.
But now it's done and I'm all set.
At least for this wedding.
Miraculously...I even find shoes.
Go figure.
No that's not a movie.
That's how many plus size dresses I find during visits to three different department stores this evening. That's right - THREE department stores!
Macy's = No dresses (and nothing remotely dressy - just sloppy looking casual wear)
JCPenny = No dresses (just like Macy's...sack-y, sloppy looking sportswear)
Nordstrom = 13 dresses (13 really kind of sad looking, mother-of-the-bride-y looking, old lady looking dresses. Needless to say, I am not inspired to try any of them on.)
How can two national department stores not have a single plus size dress in their entire stock??? And the one department store that does has the most pitiful little selection tucked away in a corner - UGH! Horrible!
It's like the department store folks are just saying, "Oh, we're so sorry dear Fat Person, but there are noooooo nice dresses for you. Nope. Not here. We don't serve your kind. We don't actually need your money. Just go on your little merry way and make room for the thin deserving people."
WTF?
Talk about dispiriting.
I leave the mall feeling somewhat hopeless, but decide to go for one last try at Kohls since it's on my way home.
# of plus size dresses at Kohls = 7
# that do not look like completely shapeless potato sacks = 4
# that I try on = 4
# that look hideous on me = 3
# that fit and look moderately decent = 1
So I buy it.
Here's the thing. I am attending a wedding this weekend and realized rather belatedly that I don't have anything appropriate to wear for said wedding. Hence, my very frustrating and demoralizing visit to the mall.
But now it's done and I'm all set.
At least for this wedding.
Miraculously...I even find shoes.
Go figure.
18 May 2010
Denial...
I have always been one of those women who struggled with her weight, but also one of those women who - to my deep embarrassment and shame - quietly scoffed at other women. I scoffed at those women who said things like:
"How can you NOT notice that you've gained THAT much weight???" I would think snarkily to myself - feeling just a bit superior. "I mean really. How can you be shocked? You live with yourself everyday. Surely you must look in a mirror from time to time. Well, I guess you must have been in pretty serious denial."
Guess what?
I saw photos of myself today.
They are pretty horrifying.
I didn't realize that I had gotten that heavy.
I was so shocked.
There is no full length mirror in my house.
Denial is not a river in Egypt.
And...Karma's a bitch, isn't it?
I didn't realize that I had gotten that heavy until I saw myself in photo X. I was so shocked!
"How can you NOT notice that you've gained THAT much weight???" I would think snarkily to myself - feeling just a bit superior. "I mean really. How can you be shocked? You live with yourself everyday. Surely you must look in a mirror from time to time. Well, I guess you must have been in pretty serious denial."
Guess what?
I saw photos of myself today.
They are pretty horrifying.
I didn't realize that I had gotten that heavy.
I was so shocked.
There is no full length mirror in my house.
Denial is not a river in Egypt.
And...Karma's a bitch, isn't it?
17 May 2010
Being here...
The BMI ("Body Mass Index") calculator tells me that I am obese.
Obese.
It even sounds like a yucky negative word.
But there it is.
According to the National Heart Lung and Blood Institute (part of the National Institutes of Health) "BMI" is:
Never thought that I'd get here. I mean I've always struggled with being heavy, but never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would ever get to the point of being labeled "obese."
Of being obese.
I hate it.
And I hate that I did this to myself.
I have only myself to blame.
But the thing is...I did this to myself and I know that I can undo this to myself as well.
Now, as you may remember from previous posts, I have been losing weight. I had lost the equivalent to 56 sticks of butter by the best count back in March...but then the floods hit and all hell broke loose for a while. I fell off of the good eating/regular exercise wagon. Not terribly, but enough that a few of those sticks of butter have crept back onto my already large frame.
Aaaaaiiieeeeee!
Damn it.
So, here I am again. Renewing my commitment to living a Healthy 2010 and Beyond.
Because I want to be here for our Schmoopy. I want to be able to run around after her and with her and not be exhausted - or worse - really sick and incapacitated by a totally preventable disease.
Schmoopy deserves to have a healthy mom to be here for her elementary school, middle school, high school and college graduations. And to be around and healthy for her wedding. And perhaps the birth of a grandkid or two. To be around for the everyday stuff and for the hard times.
To just be around period.
If I continue on the path of obesity, I worry that there is a distinct possibility that I will not be around or will be so incapacitated that I won't be a good mom. That I won't be able to help our Little One grow into the person that she is meant to be.
Time to get back to health!
So, if you see me out there chowing down on a big, fat laden candy bar or french fries or some other ridiculous food that has no business in my healthy life, please remind me of this post.
I have a ways to go before I am no longer labeled "obese" by the BMI calculator! But I know that I can do it!
Obese.
It even sounds like a yucky negative word.
But there it is.
According to the National Heart Lung and Blood Institute (part of the National Institutes of Health) "BMI" is:
a measure of your weight relative to your height and waist circumference measures abdominal fat. Combining these with information about your additional risk factors yields your risk for developing obesity-associated diseases.
For people who are considered obese (BMI greater than or equal to 30) or those who are overweight (BMI of 25 to 29.9) and have two or more risk factors, the guidelines recommend weight loss. Even a small weight loss (just 10 percent of your current weight) will help to lower your risk of developing diseases associated with obesity.
Never thought that I'd get here. I mean I've always struggled with being heavy, but never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would ever get to the point of being labeled "obese."
Of being obese.
I hate it.
And I hate that I did this to myself.
I have only myself to blame.
But the thing is...I did this to myself and I know that I can undo this to myself as well.
Now, as you may remember from previous posts, I have been losing weight. I had lost the equivalent to 56 sticks of butter by the best count back in March...but then the floods hit and all hell broke loose for a while. I fell off of the good eating/regular exercise wagon. Not terribly, but enough that a few of those sticks of butter have crept back onto my already large frame.
Aaaaaiiieeeeee!
Damn it.
So, here I am again. Renewing my commitment to living a Healthy 2010 and Beyond.
Because I want to be here for our Schmoopy. I want to be able to run around after her and with her and not be exhausted - or worse - really sick and incapacitated by a totally preventable disease.
Schmoopy deserves to have a healthy mom to be here for her elementary school, middle school, high school and college graduations. And to be around and healthy for her wedding. And perhaps the birth of a grandkid or two. To be around for the everyday stuff and for the hard times.
To just be around period.
If I continue on the path of obesity, I worry that there is a distinct possibility that I will not be around or will be so incapacitated that I won't be a good mom. That I won't be able to help our Little One grow into the person that she is meant to be.
Time to get back to health!
So, if you see me out there chowing down on a big, fat laden candy bar or french fries or some other ridiculous food that has no business in my healthy life, please remind me of this post.
I have a ways to go before I am no longer labeled "obese" by the BMI calculator! But I know that I can do it!
16 May 2010
Productivity...
I'm usually fairly unproductive on weekends. A failing to be sure, but nonetheless true.
Most weeks I'm so wiped out from my work that there's just no gas in the tank by the time the weekend rolls around. Hence, while Chris is often busy cleaning the kitchen or doing the laundry because he somehow manages to have an amazing energy reserve, I can barely make myself just straighten a little around the house before I have to collapse in a heap on the couch.
Quite frankly, when I've had a busy week at work (which is just about always!) I resent having to come home to housework of any kind.
Stupid, I know. But true. I just want to come home to recharge the batteries, refuel, re-boot, re-whatever I can so that I feel prepped and ready for work on Monday.
How crazy is it that I resent my home life because it takes energy away from my work life???
Shouldn't it be the other way round???
Yes!
But then there are weeks where for whatever reason I actually feel kind of peppy. When taking care of our home via a variety of house work-y kinds of chores is very appealing to me and I dive in with a kind of enthusiasm that I don't often have.
Like today.
Despite having had something of a crazy work week followed by social plans on both Friday and Saturday night, I have managed to have enough energy for a productive day: gym, grocery shopping, even making dinner.
Chris almost faints when I inform him that I am making dinner. "Really? Uh, what are we having?" has asks dubiously.
"Chicken cacciatore," I reply, "in the crock pot. If we don't eat it tonight we can just throw it in the fridge for later in the week."
He still looks a little dubious.
How bad could it be? I mean it's basically chicken and tomato sauce. Even I can't screw that up too badly. Right?
And now I'm off to tackle the Great Wall of Laundry in our bedroom. Four baskets at the end of the bed that always seem to be full to overflowing and that I can never seem to get completely emptied.
Ever.
But today I am going to try!!
Chances are it's going to take me the two hours that the chicken has left to cook...
Wish me luck.
** Addendum **
That darn husband of mine had the TV on and was flipping back and forth between "Die Hard" and "That Thing You Do." So OF COURSE I was TOTALLY distracted from dealing with laundry. And now it's dinner time.
Laundry will just have to wait until tomorrow.
"Congratulations," says Chris with a grin, "you have succeeded in again avoiding folding the laundry."
Hee hee.
Most weeks I'm so wiped out from my work that there's just no gas in the tank by the time the weekend rolls around. Hence, while Chris is often busy cleaning the kitchen or doing the laundry because he somehow manages to have an amazing energy reserve, I can barely make myself just straighten a little around the house before I have to collapse in a heap on the couch.
Quite frankly, when I've had a busy week at work (which is just about always!) I resent having to come home to housework of any kind.
Stupid, I know. But true. I just want to come home to recharge the batteries, refuel, re-boot, re-whatever I can so that I feel prepped and ready for work on Monday.
How crazy is it that I resent my home life because it takes energy away from my work life???
Shouldn't it be the other way round???
Yes!
But then there are weeks where for whatever reason I actually feel kind of peppy. When taking care of our home via a variety of house work-y kinds of chores is very appealing to me and I dive in with a kind of enthusiasm that I don't often have.
Like today.
Despite having had something of a crazy work week followed by social plans on both Friday and Saturday night, I have managed to have enough energy for a productive day: gym, grocery shopping, even making dinner.
Chris almost faints when I inform him that I am making dinner. "Really? Uh, what are we having?" has asks dubiously.
"Chicken cacciatore," I reply, "in the crock pot. If we don't eat it tonight we can just throw it in the fridge for later in the week."
He still looks a little dubious.
How bad could it be? I mean it's basically chicken and tomato sauce. Even I can't screw that up too badly. Right?
And now I'm off to tackle the Great Wall of Laundry in our bedroom. Four baskets at the end of the bed that always seem to be full to overflowing and that I can never seem to get completely emptied.
Ever.
But today I am going to try!!
Chances are it's going to take me the two hours that the chicken has left to cook...
Wish me luck.
** Addendum **
That darn husband of mine had the TV on and was flipping back and forth between "Die Hard" and "That Thing You Do." So OF COURSE I was TOTALLY distracted from dealing with laundry. And now it's dinner time.
Laundry will just have to wait until tomorrow.
"Congratulations," says Chris with a grin, "you have succeeded in again avoiding folding the laundry."
Hee hee.
15 May 2010
Enough already...
Life feels like time and numbers right now.
24 months since I started managing my health issues and became a much healthier and happier person.
18 months since I started realizing that I could actually be a healthy, happy and capable parent.
16 months since I began contemplating telling Chris that my feelings about parenting had changed.
13 months since I told Chris and we decided to adopt.
10 months since we started our homestudy.
6 months since our homestudy was approved.
4 months since our profiles went live.
609 hits to one of our profiles as of today.
The big countdown continues...
As I mentioned in my most recent post...I seem to be hyper-aware of time.
And to be truthful - it's driving me crazy. I look at other expectant mother and prospective adoptive mother blogs with their little "X days still waiting for Baby X to arrive" counters adorned with cute little accompanying bunny and flower graphics.
Urgh!
I don't want to BE that person. Counting the days and wishing and moping and praying and feeling somehow incomplete without a baby.
That isn't me.
It is strange and alien that there is even the tiniest part of me feeling this way. This feeling of somehow being in a kind of stasis. Feeling like I can't look for a new job even though the one I'm in is leaving me feeling burned out. Worrying that I can't take on any new projects or commitments because the baby might arrive.
Feeling kind of stuck.
Chris just sent me updated versions of our profiles. While I am here moaning pitifully on my blog, he is taking action.
OK - enough complaining! Enough blogging for today!
There is life to be lived!
And lunch to be had.
Kinda hungry.
24 months since I started managing my health issues and became a much healthier and happier person.
18 months since I started realizing that I could actually be a healthy, happy and capable parent.
16 months since I began contemplating telling Chris that my feelings about parenting had changed.
13 months since I told Chris and we decided to adopt.
10 months since we started our homestudy.
6 months since our homestudy was approved.
4 months since our profiles went live.
609 hits to one of our profiles as of today.
The big countdown continues...
As I mentioned in my most recent post...I seem to be hyper-aware of time.
And to be truthful - it's driving me crazy. I look at other expectant mother and prospective adoptive mother blogs with their little "X days still waiting for Baby X to arrive" counters adorned with cute little accompanying bunny and flower graphics.
Urgh!
I don't want to BE that person. Counting the days and wishing and moping and praying and feeling somehow incomplete without a baby.
That isn't me.
It is strange and alien that there is even the tiniest part of me feeling this way. This feeling of somehow being in a kind of stasis. Feeling like I can't look for a new job even though the one I'm in is leaving me feeling burned out. Worrying that I can't take on any new projects or commitments because the baby might arrive.
Feeling kind of stuck.
Chris just sent me updated versions of our profiles. While I am here moaning pitifully on my blog, he is taking action.
OK - enough complaining! Enough blogging for today!
There is life to be lived!
And lunch to be had.
Kinda hungry.
14 May 2010
Four months today...
I must've been radiating adoption "energy" yesterday while contemplating today's four-month marker because any number of people at work came over to ask me if there was any news yet.
"No," I say with a smile that I'm sure does not reach my eyes. "We're still waiting."
"Wow," says one of my colleagues, "It's been like 5 months."
I don't correct him, but instead say, "Yeah. It's been a while, but this is what happens in adoption. You wait."
"So, do you know what's available out there? I mean you can look and see if there are kids waiting, right?"
"Nope," I say. "They can just see us."
"Ohhhh," says my colleague thoughtfully. "Well, I hope you get some news soon."
"Thanks. Me, too. And thanks for asking, K. It was really nice of you."
Part of me is wondering if there are going to be future posts of "Five months today...", "Seven months today...", "Eleven months today..." and so on. I hope not. The 14th of the month has always been a good marker of time being that our wedding anniversary is April 14th. I hope that this day doesn't become something of a sad marker of time for me and that I don't start looking upon it with dread.
Truly, I hope not.
Chris and I have been so busy with flood stuff, work and my parents' recent visit that we have done absolutely nothing about updating our profiles, although we had said that we would at the three-month point. Chances are that this weekend we'll be dealing with flood stuff again - pulling off baseboards and putting more holes in the drywall to let it finish drying out. Possibly even taking down several walls in the storage room that we plan to demolish.
So, chances are probably equal that our profiles will remain as they are while we deal with the house.
Will updating our profiles really do anything toward getting us closer to being parents?
No idea. We're probably just fine with what we have considering how much time, thought and energy went into the original creation of the profiles.
Still...part of me feels like at least we'd be DOING something instead of just sitting around waiting.
Four months today.
Hmm.
Time to get myself ready for work. Time to go out and live and be in the present moment.
"No," I say with a smile that I'm sure does not reach my eyes. "We're still waiting."
"Wow," says one of my colleagues, "It's been like 5 months."
I don't correct him, but instead say, "Yeah. It's been a while, but this is what happens in adoption. You wait."
"So, do you know what's available out there? I mean you can look and see if there are kids waiting, right?"
"Nope," I say. "They can just see us."
"Ohhhh," says my colleague thoughtfully. "Well, I hope you get some news soon."
"Thanks. Me, too. And thanks for asking, K. It was really nice of you."
Part of me is wondering if there are going to be future posts of "Five months today...", "Seven months today...", "Eleven months today..." and so on. I hope not. The 14th of the month has always been a good marker of time being that our wedding anniversary is April 14th. I hope that this day doesn't become something of a sad marker of time for me and that I don't start looking upon it with dread.
Truly, I hope not.
Chris and I have been so busy with flood stuff, work and my parents' recent visit that we have done absolutely nothing about updating our profiles, although we had said that we would at the three-month point. Chances are that this weekend we'll be dealing with flood stuff again - pulling off baseboards and putting more holes in the drywall to let it finish drying out. Possibly even taking down several walls in the storage room that we plan to demolish.
So, chances are probably equal that our profiles will remain as they are while we deal with the house.
Will updating our profiles really do anything toward getting us closer to being parents?
No idea. We're probably just fine with what we have considering how much time, thought and energy went into the original creation of the profiles.
Still...part of me feels like at least we'd be DOING something instead of just sitting around waiting.
Four months today.
Hmm.
Time to get myself ready for work. Time to go out and live and be in the present moment.
13 May 2010
Time flies...
Tomorrow is the 14th.
My cousin's 18th birthday - Happy Birthday K!
A Friday - always nice.
Payday - even better.
The day after a big evening work event, which means I'll probably be really tired and just a bit grumpy. Sorry Chris.
Seven days before my friend K's wedding. Congratulations K & M!
Nine years and one month that Chris and I will be married. Woohoo! Still married and we still like each other!
And also exactly 4 months since we "went live" with our adoption profiles.
Hmm.
Despite protestations in earlier posts that I wouldn't be marking time as we wait and that instead I would simply be in the present moment enjoying life to the fullest...Yeah...Not so much despite my best efforts.
I seem to be hyper-aware of time these days.
I haven't been consciously counting the days, but this morning I wake up to the thought that tomorrow is the 14th and that it's been 4 months of waiting (quite a bit longer if you add in all of last year as we prepped for the adoption...) So my subconscious or my body or some part of me is indeed carefully marking time while my conscious self is going about my life. That subconscious part of me alerts my conscious self as another significant date approaches.
How utterly annoying.
My cousin's 18th birthday - Happy Birthday K!
A Friday - always nice.
Payday - even better.
The day after a big evening work event, which means I'll probably be really tired and just a bit grumpy. Sorry Chris.
Seven days before my friend K's wedding. Congratulations K & M!
Nine years and one month that Chris and I will be married. Woohoo! Still married and we still like each other!
And also exactly 4 months since we "went live" with our adoption profiles.
Hmm.
Despite protestations in earlier posts that I wouldn't be marking time as we wait and that instead I would simply be in the present moment enjoying life to the fullest...Yeah...Not so much despite my best efforts.
I seem to be hyper-aware of time these days.
I haven't been consciously counting the days, but this morning I wake up to the thought that tomorrow is the 14th and that it's been 4 months of waiting (quite a bit longer if you add in all of last year as we prepped for the adoption...) So my subconscious or my body or some part of me is indeed carefully marking time while my conscious self is going about my life. That subconscious part of me alerts my conscious self as another significant date approaches.
How utterly annoying.
08 May 2010
Not much to say...
I haven't had much to say these last few days.
Shocking, I know.
Me with not much to say???
Say it ain't so!
But it is.
I've been poring over numerous blogs - the usual round up of adoptive mom blogs, first mother blogs and adopted person blogs, but even those - despite their wealth of controversial material (sometime soon I will devote an entire post to the folks that refer to me as "adopter" or "adoptress") - haven't inspired me to write. Guess I'm feeling kind of low, although I know that I shouldn't be feeling this way. It's spring for heaven's sake and it's sunny and beautiful! Our gardens are blooming!
So why am I feeling so blue?
That is the question of the day.
I have some ideas, but nothing that I want to write about at the moment.
So, I'll end this very uninspiring post by saying that I will most certainly have something more interesting and inspiring to say soon...but, for now...
Meh.
Shocking, I know.
Me with not much to say???
Say it ain't so!
But it is.
I've been poring over numerous blogs - the usual round up of adoptive mom blogs, first mother blogs and adopted person blogs, but even those - despite their wealth of controversial material (sometime soon I will devote an entire post to the folks that refer to me as "adopter" or "adoptress") - haven't inspired me to write. Guess I'm feeling kind of low, although I know that I shouldn't be feeling this way. It's spring for heaven's sake and it's sunny and beautiful! Our gardens are blooming!
So why am I feeling so blue?
That is the question of the day.
I have some ideas, but nothing that I want to write about at the moment.
So, I'll end this very uninspiring post by saying that I will most certainly have something more interesting and inspiring to say soon...but, for now...
Meh.
07 May 2010
Mother's Day...
Mother's Day is quickly approaching.
I usually call my mom on Mother's Day, but won't have to this year because she and my dad are here visiting this weekend. They're back at the hotel eating breakfast and cleaning up after our visit to the gym this morning. (Where, by the way, I discovered to my horror that my 69 and 72 year-old parents are in SOOO much better shape than I am....)
So, a little time to write something here on the blog.
Kind of had this little fantasy in my head that by Mother's Day 2010 I'd actually BE a mother. That there'd be a little tiny baby in the house keeping Chris and I (and the cat) awake at all hours of the night, but that we'd all be sort of happily exhausted (except the cat, who will no doubt be outraged by the appearance of some other small being that will take her place as the center of our Universe...)
Not so much.
Still no call.
Still waiting.
But - as the saying goes - it is what it is.
So, instead of moping about it I'm going to revel in the present moment. Planning to take my folks to Whole Foods for a healthy delicious lunch (no Whole Foods where they live...) and then off to the zoo for the afternoon. Tomorrow we'll hit some museum or other.
And then on Mother's Day we'll have a lovely dinner with my mother-in-law, her husband and our Nana at a favorite Thai restaurant.
While I am not yet able to mark off Mother's Day as "my" holiday, I'm going to enjoy it all the same this year because I will be with three of my very favorite moms.
I usually call my mom on Mother's Day, but won't have to this year because she and my dad are here visiting this weekend. They're back at the hotel eating breakfast and cleaning up after our visit to the gym this morning. (Where, by the way, I discovered to my horror that my 69 and 72 year-old parents are in SOOO much better shape than I am....)
So, a little time to write something here on the blog.
Kind of had this little fantasy in my head that by Mother's Day 2010 I'd actually BE a mother. That there'd be a little tiny baby in the house keeping Chris and I (and the cat) awake at all hours of the night, but that we'd all be sort of happily exhausted (except the cat, who will no doubt be outraged by the appearance of some other small being that will take her place as the center of our Universe...)
Not so much.
Still no call.
Still waiting.
But - as the saying goes - it is what it is.
So, instead of moping about it I'm going to revel in the present moment. Planning to take my folks to Whole Foods for a healthy delicious lunch (no Whole Foods where they live...) and then off to the zoo for the afternoon. Tomorrow we'll hit some museum or other.
And then on Mother's Day we'll have a lovely dinner with my mother-in-law, her husband and our Nana at a favorite Thai restaurant.
While I am not yet able to mark off Mother's Day as "my" holiday, I'm going to enjoy it all the same this year because I will be with three of my very favorite moms.
06 May 2010
Baby envy...
The organization where I work hosts an annual May Breakfast for its employees.
It's a nice affair (although this year I couldn't eat any of the food served because all of it contained gluten) held in our conference room. Table cloths and flowers on the tables. Programs. The organization honors the employees who have been there for 5 yrs, 10 yrs, 15 yrs, etc.
This year the 30 yrs. of service recognition recipient brings his family: wife, two daughters, son-in-law and his twin 8-month old grandchildren.
After the breakfast program concludes the twins - K & A - sister and brother - are the center of attention. A line forms so that all of us can get a good look at these adorable babies. A is definitely trouble with a capital T banging his little hands on the table, trying to pull the table cloth off of the table and generally trying to get into mischief even at 8 months. I ask his grandmother if he's always like this, "Oh yes!" she assures me with a big smile. "And even worse!"
Lord help his parents when this little one becomes mobile.
K is very mellow by comparison. Laying quietly in her grandmothers lap, K is content to watch all of the goings on with big hazel eyes and then to grab my forefinger in a death grip as I kneel down to take a closer look. I say to her, "Look at you!" and she looks at me, "You have great big fat cheeks just like me!"
I grin at her. She studies my face intently. Her hazel eyes search mine...for what, I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps she's just sizing me up and deciding whether or not I'm a safe bet. After a minute or two she seems to decide that I'm OK and she grins right back. The she shakes my finger in her little hand.
"Are you just the cutest thing ever?" I ask her in the voice that I reserve for babies and cats and dogs. "You are, aren't you???"
Her grin widens.
The death grip remains firmly upon my finger, which now kind of hurts.
Ow.
"Omigoodness! You got a good grip there, Kiddo!" I say, now wincing ever so slightly. "Good grip indeed! Guess what? I'm going to have one just like you soon. Isn't that exciting?"
K's grandma says, "Oh, when are you due?"
"We're adopting," I reply. "So, not entirely sure. Soon I hope."
"That so exciting!" Grandma says.
"Yeah," I say, looking back at K, "And then I can call your grandpa and make a play date with you! Omigosh you're so cute!!"
The line to see the babies is getting longer so I say to K, "Well, I better let some other folks get a look at you," and gently disengage myself from K's grip (which surprisingly takes a minute or two to pry her tiny little fingers off of mine!)
As I walk behind Grandma to let someone else have a good look at baby girl, K stops smiling and furrows her little brows at me. I might be done hanging out with K, but apparently she isn't quite done looking at me. She cranes herself back and then forward to get a better look at me as I am walking away. I give her a huge grin, wave and say "bye-bye" to her several times. She studies me as I do this and finally rewards me with a huge smile.
What a cutie-pie.
I can't say that I've ever really experience baby envy.
Always thought they were cute and I would get a little gooey around them, but never really had that "Oh, I wish that I had one of those!" moment.
Until K grabs onto my finger and studies me with those eyes.
Now I get it.
It's a nice affair (although this year I couldn't eat any of the food served because all of it contained gluten) held in our conference room. Table cloths and flowers on the tables. Programs. The organization honors the employees who have been there for 5 yrs, 10 yrs, 15 yrs, etc.
This year the 30 yrs. of service recognition recipient brings his family: wife, two daughters, son-in-law and his twin 8-month old grandchildren.
After the breakfast program concludes the twins - K & A - sister and brother - are the center of attention. A line forms so that all of us can get a good look at these adorable babies. A is definitely trouble with a capital T banging his little hands on the table, trying to pull the table cloth off of the table and generally trying to get into mischief even at 8 months. I ask his grandmother if he's always like this, "Oh yes!" she assures me with a big smile. "And even worse!"
Lord help his parents when this little one becomes mobile.
K is very mellow by comparison. Laying quietly in her grandmothers lap, K is content to watch all of the goings on with big hazel eyes and then to grab my forefinger in a death grip as I kneel down to take a closer look. I say to her, "Look at you!" and she looks at me, "You have great big fat cheeks just like me!"
I grin at her. She studies my face intently. Her hazel eyes search mine...for what, I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps she's just sizing me up and deciding whether or not I'm a safe bet. After a minute or two she seems to decide that I'm OK and she grins right back. The she shakes my finger in her little hand.
"Are you just the cutest thing ever?" I ask her in the voice that I reserve for babies and cats and dogs. "You are, aren't you???"
Her grin widens.
The death grip remains firmly upon my finger, which now kind of hurts.
Ow.
"Omigoodness! You got a good grip there, Kiddo!" I say, now wincing ever so slightly. "Good grip indeed! Guess what? I'm going to have one just like you soon. Isn't that exciting?"
K's grandma says, "Oh, when are you due?"
"We're adopting," I reply. "So, not entirely sure. Soon I hope."
"That so exciting!" Grandma says.
"Yeah," I say, looking back at K, "And then I can call your grandpa and make a play date with you! Omigosh you're so cute!!"
The line to see the babies is getting longer so I say to K, "Well, I better let some other folks get a look at you," and gently disengage myself from K's grip (which surprisingly takes a minute or two to pry her tiny little fingers off of mine!)
As I walk behind Grandma to let someone else have a good look at baby girl, K stops smiling and furrows her little brows at me. I might be done hanging out with K, but apparently she isn't quite done looking at me. She cranes herself back and then forward to get a better look at me as I am walking away. I give her a huge grin, wave and say "bye-bye" to her several times. She studies me as I do this and finally rewards me with a huge smile.
What a cutie-pie.
I can't say that I've ever really experience baby envy.
Always thought they were cute and I would get a little gooey around them, but never really had that "Oh, I wish that I had one of those!" moment.
Until K grabs onto my finger and studies me with those eyes.
Now I get it.
04 May 2010
Aggravation...
I leave work yesterday more aggravated than I have been in a long time...maybe ever.
(The details surrounding my aggravation are not relevant except to say that it's really sad when one person at your workplace can make life such an absolute misery.)
Chris texts me at around 6pm to find out where I am and what my schedule is looking like. At this point, I am in my car and heading in the direction of home, but know that I won't be there for a while.
I need to cool down.
Definitely need some down time.
So I call C to let him know that I have an errand or two to run and I'll be home in an hour or so and not to wait dinner if he's hungry.
My "errand" is to head to a favorite independent bookstore that is en route home where I read through People magazine and some other equally trashy mag (maybe "Us" or "In Touch"?) and then roam the store looking at whatever. I peruse the kids books and toys, the self-help section and also notice that a few of my favorite mystery authors have new books out, but I'm not planning to spend close to $30 for a book today. I can wait until these come out in paperback or, better yet, can check them out at the library.
I notice after close to an hour of this down time that my blood pressure seems to be getting back to normal and that I am no longer clenching my jaw (and I hadn't actually noticed that I was clenching my jaw in the first place. Not good.)
Still, when I finally arrive home Chris - who is watching the Red Sox and trying to enjoy his dinner - asks me about my day and all of my aggravation comes boiling out anyway despite my attempts to get myself cooled down completely. I absolutely UNLOAD all of this major YUCKINESS on my poor unsuspecting husband. He listens patiently and makes all of the right sympathetic noises. Also makes all of the "I can't believe that [X] is still working there!" noises, too, to which I agree.
Poor dear man. Thank you for listening to me as I ruin your dinner with my vitriol.
It helps to talk about it, but I find myself unloading a second time to a close friend in a phone call and only then does my jaw stop the clenching that happened again once I started talking about my aggravation (although it seems to have locked up again overnight as I slept and this morning I have quite the face-ache...)
I know in the near future when I'm a parent that there are going to be days when I'm pretty fed up. That our Little One is going to go on a 4-hour crying jag as she teethes or she's going to be two and a half and take firm ownership of the word"NO!" and drive me batty. I know that I'm going to lose my patience and find myself getting aggravated.
But somehow I just cannot imagine that as a parent that I will end up feeling the way that I did yesterday.
It's probably not terribly feminist or progressive of me to admit this, but there is a huge part of me that will be so incredibly relieved when this kid arrives - not just relieved that we'll finally be parents and that we get to experience all of the joy that goes along with that, but also relieved that I will be getting away from the workplace. Don't know for certain if we'll be able to swing it for me to stay at home full-time while our child is little, but more and more these days I am hoping so.
There are some women who want it all - the career and the family. Me - if having it all means days like yesterday then I definitely do not want it all.
No thank you.
(The details surrounding my aggravation are not relevant except to say that it's really sad when one person at your workplace can make life such an absolute misery.)
Chris texts me at around 6pm to find out where I am and what my schedule is looking like. At this point, I am in my car and heading in the direction of home, but know that I won't be there for a while.
I need to cool down.
Definitely need some down time.
So I call C to let him know that I have an errand or two to run and I'll be home in an hour or so and not to wait dinner if he's hungry.
My "errand" is to head to a favorite independent bookstore that is en route home where I read through People magazine and some other equally trashy mag (maybe "Us" or "In Touch"?) and then roam the store looking at whatever. I peruse the kids books and toys, the self-help section and also notice that a few of my favorite mystery authors have new books out, but I'm not planning to spend close to $30 for a book today. I can wait until these come out in paperback or, better yet, can check them out at the library.
I notice after close to an hour of this down time that my blood pressure seems to be getting back to normal and that I am no longer clenching my jaw (and I hadn't actually noticed that I was clenching my jaw in the first place. Not good.)
Still, when I finally arrive home Chris - who is watching the Red Sox and trying to enjoy his dinner - asks me about my day and all of my aggravation comes boiling out anyway despite my attempts to get myself cooled down completely. I absolutely UNLOAD all of this major YUCKINESS on my poor unsuspecting husband. He listens patiently and makes all of the right sympathetic noises. Also makes all of the "I can't believe that [X] is still working there!" noises, too, to which I agree.
Poor dear man. Thank you for listening to me as I ruin your dinner with my vitriol.
It helps to talk about it, but I find myself unloading a second time to a close friend in a phone call and only then does my jaw stop the clenching that happened again once I started talking about my aggravation (although it seems to have locked up again overnight as I slept and this morning I have quite the face-ache...)
I know in the near future when I'm a parent that there are going to be days when I'm pretty fed up. That our Little One is going to go on a 4-hour crying jag as she teethes or she's going to be two and a half and take firm ownership of the word"NO!" and drive me batty. I know that I'm going to lose my patience and find myself getting aggravated.
But somehow I just cannot imagine that as a parent that I will end up feeling the way that I did yesterday.
It's probably not terribly feminist or progressive of me to admit this, but there is a huge part of me that will be so incredibly relieved when this kid arrives - not just relieved that we'll finally be parents and that we get to experience all of the joy that goes along with that, but also relieved that I will be getting away from the workplace. Don't know for certain if we'll be able to swing it for me to stay at home full-time while our child is little, but more and more these days I am hoping so.
There are some women who want it all - the career and the family. Me - if having it all means days like yesterday then I definitely do not want it all.
No thank you.
02 May 2010
My voice...
I'm a talker.
No doubt about it. I have the gift of gab...for the most part.
But when it comes to talking about the adoption, my feelings about the adoption, or any issues relating to adoption...I often find myself having an almsot impossible time articulating my thoughts verbally.
It's awful.
People - family, friends, colleagues - all very often and very kindly ask about how things are going...is there any news? any updates?...and I find myself saying things like, "We're just waiting right now. We've done every single thing that we need to do and now we just wait."
To this answer I usually get an "Ah" or a sympathetic "I'm sure you'll hear something soon" or even the "How long do people usually wait?" and then I trot out a "Yeah" or a "I hope we'll hear something soon" or finally a "There's no real usual wait time. Every adoption is so different."
Sometimes I want to say more and just can't. The words won't come. I cannot seem to articulate to other people in everyday conversation what's on my mind. Or maybe the words would come if I let them, but part of me realizes that other people would not necessarily know how to respond or would be very uncomfortable if I mentioned my fears about buying things for the baby now.
Hence - this blog.
Somehow here in this space I can articulate in writing my hopes, my fears, my joys, my frustrations, my whatever in regards to our impending adoption when I can't get the words out in real life.
Not that this is always a good thing. I mean - it is - this is the place that I turn to when I need to "get it all out," but sometimes it would certainly be more convenient if I could just spew it all out in conversation - especially with the people who are closest to me...husband, parents, good friends. It feels ridiculous to say to them, "Just read the d@#$ blog!" when they ask an innocent question and I know that I've just written about that, but don't feel comfortable talking about it.
Sometimes someone will ask a question that starts all kinds of stuff percolating in my head, but, again, the words won't come right away in that conversation. A few hours later or even a few days or weeks later I find myself with my laptop in my lap and my fingers clackering away answering the question belatedly. Sometimes it just feels too belatedly to start up the conversation again in real life.
Maybe this is the joy and the danger of blogging.
The blog gives me a safe place to share my thoughts, but sometimes I wonder if it also is the thing that robs me of my voice.
No doubt about it. I have the gift of gab...for the most part.
But when it comes to talking about the adoption, my feelings about the adoption, or any issues relating to adoption...I often find myself having an almsot impossible time articulating my thoughts verbally.
It's awful.
People - family, friends, colleagues - all very often and very kindly ask about how things are going...is there any news? any updates?...and I find myself saying things like, "We're just waiting right now. We've done every single thing that we need to do and now we just wait."
To this answer I usually get an "Ah" or a sympathetic "I'm sure you'll hear something soon" or even the "How long do people usually wait?" and then I trot out a "Yeah" or a "I hope we'll hear something soon" or finally a "There's no real usual wait time. Every adoption is so different."
Sometimes I want to say more and just can't. The words won't come. I cannot seem to articulate to other people in everyday conversation what's on my mind. Or maybe the words would come if I let them, but part of me realizes that other people would not necessarily know how to respond or would be very uncomfortable if I mentioned my fears about buying things for the baby now.
Hence - this blog.
Somehow here in this space I can articulate in writing my hopes, my fears, my joys, my frustrations, my whatever in regards to our impending adoption when I can't get the words out in real life.
Not that this is always a good thing. I mean - it is - this is the place that I turn to when I need to "get it all out," but sometimes it would certainly be more convenient if I could just spew it all out in conversation - especially with the people who are closest to me...husband, parents, good friends. It feels ridiculous to say to them, "Just read the d@#$ blog!" when they ask an innocent question and I know that I've just written about that, but don't feel comfortable talking about it.
Sometimes someone will ask a question that starts all kinds of stuff percolating in my head, but, again, the words won't come right away in that conversation. A few hours later or even a few days or weeks later I find myself with my laptop in my lap and my fingers clackering away answering the question belatedly. Sometimes it just feels too belatedly to start up the conversation again in real life.
Maybe this is the joy and the danger of blogging.
The blog gives me a safe place to share my thoughts, but sometimes I wonder if it also is the thing that robs me of my voice.
01 May 2010
Baby stuff...
I haven't bought anything yet for the baby.
Nothing.
Not a little dress or a onesie or a binky or a bumbo seat.
Nada.
I told Chris a while back that I did not want a baby shower until after the baby actually arrives. He passed along this information to well-meaning and loving relatives who were all set to start planning a huge baby shower many months ago while we were still in the home-study process. Chris very kindly and diplomatically put a stop to that plan.
"I don't want to have a house full of baby stuff and no baby," I tell him.
And so we don't.
We do have a lovely hand-knitted baby blanket that we received as a gift from my mother-in-law, a few kids books and a little teddy bear.
That's it.
But today my neighbors have a yard sale. I can see their driveway is full of stuff, much of it baby stuff and kid stuff. There's a little plastic scoot-car...white, red, yellow and blue...the kind that a toddler would use. I stand next to my car for a few minutes looking across the way at the scoot-car. It's really adorable. Part of me wants to go over, buy it, and then put it up in the attic "for future use."
But I don't.
Instead I get in my car and head to the gym.
Part of me wants to start buying baby things and toddler things. Part of me wants to join a friend of mine on her weekly yard sale adventures so that I can start socking away little baby clothes that I find for a dime and little baby toys that someone is selling for a quarter.
But then there's the part of me that worries that no one is going to choose us and there will be no baby. And then I'll have this house full of stuff serving as a daily reminder: no baby. That I'll be that poor woman who on her blog writes incessantly about how the nursery is all ready and has been for two years and yet still she is waiting...
Yet today - just for a minute - I have this thought that maybe I should be buying things. That by having baby things in the house that somehow I'll invite a kind of baby energy into our home that will speed this process along.
I feel like a complete dork even writing this. It sounds ridiculous like Rhonda Byrne's The Secret or something.
Sigh.
Need to reflect on this some more.
To buy or not to buy?
That is the question.
Nothing.
Not a little dress or a onesie or a binky or a bumbo seat.
Nada.
I told Chris a while back that I did not want a baby shower until after the baby actually arrives. He passed along this information to well-meaning and loving relatives who were all set to start planning a huge baby shower many months ago while we were still in the home-study process. Chris very kindly and diplomatically put a stop to that plan.
"I don't want to have a house full of baby stuff and no baby," I tell him.
And so we don't.
We do have a lovely hand-knitted baby blanket that we received as a gift from my mother-in-law, a few kids books and a little teddy bear.
That's it.
But today my neighbors have a yard sale. I can see their driveway is full of stuff, much of it baby stuff and kid stuff. There's a little plastic scoot-car...white, red, yellow and blue...the kind that a toddler would use. I stand next to my car for a few minutes looking across the way at the scoot-car. It's really adorable. Part of me wants to go over, buy it, and then put it up in the attic "for future use."
But I don't.
Instead I get in my car and head to the gym.
Part of me wants to start buying baby things and toddler things. Part of me wants to join a friend of mine on her weekly yard sale adventures so that I can start socking away little baby clothes that I find for a dime and little baby toys that someone is selling for a quarter.
But then there's the part of me that worries that no one is going to choose us and there will be no baby. And then I'll have this house full of stuff serving as a daily reminder: no baby. That I'll be that poor woman who on her blog writes incessantly about how the nursery is all ready and has been for two years and yet still she is waiting...
Yet today - just for a minute - I have this thought that maybe I should be buying things. That by having baby things in the house that somehow I'll invite a kind of baby energy into our home that will speed this process along.
I feel like a complete dork even writing this. It sounds ridiculous like Rhonda Byrne's The Secret or something.
Sigh.
Need to reflect on this some more.
To buy or not to buy?
That is the question.
Invasive species...
In the U.S.A. and Europe, Japanese knotweed is widely considered an invasive species or weed. It is listed by the World Conservation Union as one of the world's 100 worst invasive species.
The invasive root system and strong growth can damage foundations, buildings, flood defences, roads, paving, retaining walls and architectural sites. It can also reduce the capacity of channels in flood defences to carry water.
--Wikipedia
I tell my colleague (who happens to be a master gardener) about the invasion. She says, "Ooooo Mommy...that's not good. Not good at all. That stuff can come up through concrete. Once you have it it takes a lot of work to get rid of it."
So, based on my colleague's instructions on how to kill the unkillable, today Chris and I undertake the arduous task of trying to eradicate the invader.
Step 1: Pull and dig out each plant as deep as you can. The knotweed has a taproot that can be as long as two feet. This step is a pain in the butt as the plants root themselves pretty firmly and require a LOT of digging and pulling.
Step 2: Pour a good 3-5 count of white vinegar into the hole where the taproot remains.
Step 3: Smother the area where the knotweed was growing - cover with black plastic and heavy rocks so that no sunlight or water can get to the taproot, which will regrow if given the chance
Step 4: Bag the plants you have pulled up in a plastic bag and toss them in the garbage. According to a few websites I checked out you should NOT put these in with the compost because they can live for a while, re-root and grow again thus spreading to other parts of the state.
Step 5: Repeat Steps 1-4 when the knotweed reappears and grows through the plastic (which, according to my colleague, it will...)
It's war.
The score so far...
Chris & Jenn: 1
Japanese Knotweed: 0
Bring it on, blasted plant! We're ready for you!
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