Disappointed

I was doing really well there for a little bit; getting on the treadmill and feeling good. As of two days ago I was two pounds down and feeling 15 pounds down, but then the flu hit and while I know that I should be kind to myself, I feel like a failure.

I'm disappointed. I want to be thin, now. I want to not have to be nice to myself, but I want to fight and fight and be thin.

Life gets in the fucking way of stuff, you know?

Beginning Successes

Well, Peeps, I followed all my rules. I did not snack in front of the computer. I had a full glass of water before any snack. I took my vitamins. I wrote on the Weightloss Junction, and I got on the treadmill.

In fact, today was day three of me getting my butt on the treadmill. I put on the movie Chicago, which has pretty ladies to aspire to be and kickin, bouncy songs, and just walk. Instead of what I've done historically, which is incorporating running, this time I'm sticking with the fast walk, but incorporating HILLS. Big ones.

My butt hurts and my legs are sore, but totally in that good way. I'm feeling accomplished and already thinner. Not a lot thinner, and nobody but me would notice, but already the core muscles in my body are responding. I feel good.

Na-na-na-na-na-na-na HIT MEH!

Sorry.

There have been rough points. Only three days into it and I'm absolutely shocked to discover how angry I am about not being allowed to eat in front of the computer. My brain is outraged. I keep telling it, "Look, you can go to the vending machine. You just have to eat it in the break room, not at your desk. You can eat anything you want! Stop grousing and go and eat."

And my brain keeps snapping back, "That's not the POINT. I'm not HUNGRY, you idiot. I just want to EAT."

*BING* And the light, she goes on.

Also I went out with MoVo last night and while we had a great time and I looked totally cute, I also was fat-cute, not thin cute. That was rough to deal with. Two days of reasonable eating and a minimum of excercise and I'm already convinced I should be able to put on a cat suit.

The worst part about addictions like this is how the only enemy I have is me. This is my anthem right now.

Don't Let Me Git Me

Fatabulous Dreams

In our current "listing things in a list" theme, I'm going to create another list.

I don't know about you, but the moment I decide to eat less and excercise more, even if I haven't actually done it yet, even if I'm in the middle of a huge hunk of chocolate cake when I decide to crawl back, broken bleeding and fat, on the wagon, my brain starts with the daydream list.

The list of Things I want to do/wear when I'm no longer horrified by my body.

Now I know there are folks out there who have never liked their bodies, and I totally grok that. I didn't like my body until I was 23 years old, and then I fucking loved it until I was 26. My weight was between 160 (too skinny) and 175 (jus' perfect) for those three years and I was fit and pretty happy with it. Sure, I had to suck in my gut a little, but my boobs stayed big and my ghetto booty sat proudly on its own. I looked strong, felt good. It was good. I was an hourglass with muscles; all woman and lovely and strong with it.

That is how I would like to feel again. I will never be teensy, but I'd love to be tall and lithe again and to feel like my legs start at my hips rather than my knees.

A LIST OF DAYDREAMS I HAVE ABOUT WHAT I WILL DO WHEN I'M AT MY GOAL WEIGHT

1. Halloween Costumes - This is one of my all-time favorite daydreams, Peeps. There are several things I'd like to be for Halloween if I had to body to show off. Right now I can, off the top of my head, think of three: A) The chick from the Cake song "Short Skirt and a Long Jacket" B) Mrs. Lovett (with The Troublemaker as Todd, of course) and C) a hero of mine, Xena Warrior Princess. Ideally, MoVo would be Gabrielle because she would totally be perfect for it. I daydream constantly about great Halloween costumes. When TT and I were first married I made myself a cleopatra costume and hot DAMN it was hot and cute. I'd love to feel like that again.

2. Work clothes - Oh, god how I dream of just walking into a store like Talbots or Ann Taylor and taking something classic and chic and Audry Hepburn off the rack and just putting it on, paying for it and walking out. A suit with a little flare. A casual slack with a jazzy sweater. Nothing not age-appropriate, but oh-so-cute.

3. Casual clothes - I dream of making myself high-wasted, wide-legged comfortable pants like Katherine Hepburn used to wear all the time and not looking like a stuffed sausauge. Shirts that stop at my nautral waist rather than riding down my butt. Yoga pants with long tank tops that are casual-chic.

4. Dresses. Oh dresses. I don't even know where to begin with the dresses. I miss dresses so much, and more importantly I miss feeling sexy in dresses. I want to walk into a store and have my choice of the whole place again, rather than the choice of the four or five things that actually fit me.

I daydream. Do you?

Here's hoping I reach my Xena.

Fat Enough For Ya?

Many lists, excuses, reasonings, opinions and other billious brilliance.

I realize the silence around these parts for the past, what, six months?, has been deafening. In the echoing emptiness I'm sure you heard the creak and pop of the fabric in my jeans as I gained even more weight and the happy squeeky voices of a thousand new excuses being born every minute.

There are several reasons I'm back here, one being the aforementioned creaks and popping noises, and the others being as complex as the fabric of my brain, which lately appears to be caked in the mud of pointless emotion.

In an effort to stop myself going on in a manner of the previous unreadable paragraph, I'm going to write some lists instead. Okay? Okay.

LIST #1 - IT IS VITAL THAT I LOSE WEIGHT BECAUSE:

1. My health is beginning to suffer - Things are being sprained that shouldn't be sprained because any effort on top of already carrying the weight I have is hurting me.

2. My mental health is in bad shape - Seeing myself heavy in the mirror is devistating. Losing the endorphins by not excercising is having a real effect. Sugar does not actually improve my mood, but makes it worse.

3. Money - My wardrobe cannot be replaced every five minutes while my weight pogosticks up and down from month-to-month. Stacy and Clinton would be appalled by what I leave the house in some days, but a ten pound practically overnight weight gain leaves me reeling. I just plain can't afford to be yoyoing anymore.

4. I'm about to lose my health insurance - That's right! When I leave for school in August I quit my job, which means not only the loss of that income, but the loss of my incredible health insurance. I'm on Lipitor right now and I need to be OFF it, because it costs more than gold boullon with the help of insurance and is plain unavailable to the underinsured.

5. Bad Mommy - My kid is now three and is quickly reaching the point where he can outrun me in distance and speed. That is just pathetic. Pretty soon I'll have to start wearing flip flops so I can have something on hand to throw at him as I lumber down the aisle of Target chasing his swiftly retreating back.

6. Bad wife - Here! Have sex with this hippopotomus!

7. Prejudice - Like it or lump it, there is a preconceived notion that individuals who are overweight cannot control their impulses, have lower self esteem, and are generally slobbier and stupider than the rest of the general population. While I have not found this to be necessarily the case myself, it does affect how people perceive you. I'm about to embark on a new career path. I would like people to see ME, first, and not my weight.

LIST #2 - I DO NOT WANT TO LOSE WEIGHT BECAUSE:

1. I'm afraid of failing - I'm afraid that I'll give it all I've got, the best I've got, and I'll still not lose an ounce. This is highly unlikely, but it is likely that I won't lose as much as I want, as fast as I want, or with the poise I want. I'm afraid that I will try as hard as I can and still be a sad sack of fat. So I'm afraid of proving that deep down I really am what I look like.

2. I'm afraid of succeeding - I'm afraid that if I manage to lose the weight that people will expect me to always be perfect. I'm afraid of becoming food-obsessed, because that's all I've ever seen work. People turn their lives into being about food every minute, just so they don't fall off the wagon. I hate that.

3. I'm afraid of the attention - When you're fit it's not just Brad Pitt that looks at you appreciatively, it's that skeevy guy down the hall who leers and licks his lips and suggests a threesome with his dog. Men, in my experience, are shameless and that kind of attention can be hard to take. I have not yet grown up and understood that I can tell him to get the fucking fuck away from me. I'm still the kid who was molested on the subway at 14 with no idea what to do or how to handle it. Being thinner, for me, increases the vulnerability. Scary.

4. I'm terrified to lose the comfort - I eat to comfort myself. I've been going through a particular rough patch and not having rules in place about how to limit the comfort I'm getting (even though it's from food) feels like it's kept me from losing my mind. Will I go absolutely bananas when I can't turn to food for comfort? Sometimes the loony bin has seemed closer than ever; I don't want to go there.

LIST #3 - FIVE STEPS I AM GOING TO TAKE IMMEDIATELY, WHETHER I WANT TO OR NOT:

1. Revive the Weightloss Junction - To remember that underneith all this fat is a person, and she has the right to come out and live if she wants to.

2. No snacking in front of the computer - If I want a snack I must get up and get one and not eat in front of the flickering screne of numbness and happiness.

3. A drink of water first - I want a snack? I can have one! I just have to drink a glass of water first. Every time.

4. Take my vitamins - Must take Vite D, Calcium, Magnesium and Fish oil with breakfast and lunch, and a decent multi-vite with dinner.

5. Get on the treadmill and walk - No requirement for length or walking speed. Just MUST press "Start" and put one foot in front of the other tonight. Period.


So that's where I am, darlings. I'm off to look for a table that I can embed with my current weight and measurements, and can use to mark my progress. I have lots more to write and tell you about, but right now this has kind of taken everything I have, which is a good start, I think.

More soon,

Love,

KP

I Owe Youz an Update

And I have written one, here:

http://www.speckblog.net/2007/10/26/bellas-wednesday-wellness-post-about-honesty/

It's not very pretty, but it's where I am. It's the only place I can be right now.

Food as Pampering??

Interestingly, and hang with me here, this is going to get weird, I have been considering lately about using food as a method of pampering.

The weird part is that when I talk about this, I'm not talking about ice cream or cookies or cakes or other sweets or things that come pre-wrapped.

I will wait for you to revive...

Seriously, I have a huge history of hating the kitchen and everything about it. I have a food-touching phobia and will tell anyone that I possess no instincts when it comes to having things come out together on time. Of course, those instincts would be hard to procure with almost no history of doing any "cooking" other than "warming stuff up".

Recently, for my birthday, my husband took me out for a dinner that was truly spectacular. Eating like that, of course, would kill me in about a month, but the one thing that struck me over and over again was that with food that flavorful I really only had to eat a bite or two before I was "full". With food that flavorful my mouth told me nice and early on that I was done eating because it was in such extacy it could not take any more.

Then, two days later I went to the spa and had a five hour session of pampering, including a full hour sweedish massage and a facial. During the mani/pedi session I was talking to a woman who's sister-in-law does the spa every month. Once a month she goes in for a day away from the world and gets physical touch that is all about relaxing her, gets her hair and hands and face mooshed around and played with. Basically gets her skin tingled once a month, including between her toes.

I can understand why a person would do that once a month.

Ad campaigns will often come out for a yogurt or apples or something that says, in essence, treat your insides to a spa. I never got that. Really got it.

After this birthday and how I felt after the amazing food and the amazing spa, I think I'm starting to understand.

What if I started feeding myself and my family fresh food, well-prepared, on a regular basis? What if I just start with one recepie? One, that requires things made from their basic elements into something else? What if it was healthy and flavorful and tastey? Not rich and heavy or sugary, but zingy? Would I feel pampered?

I think, maybe, for the first time in my life, I might.

Does it Ever End?

Steph at Back in Skinny Jeans has had a rough time lately. A breakup, a new place to live, new job. Recently she's gained back five of the pounds she'd lost and, to me, her newest vblog sounds like someone who is going through classic depression.

She's a determined woman, but in her vblog she asks, does it ever end? Does the work ever end?

The idea she posits is that folks will say that you have to simply choose to be healthy. While that is certainly fundimentally true, it is also a gross oversimplification of the human process.

Watch her vblog:



I feel for Steph. I remember when The Troublemaker and I split and I was pretty sure that I'd be happiest if I just lay down on the ground and never bothered getting up again. I remember that. It's awful.

And, if you're reading this Steph, often enough a rough day at work will be enough to knock me off my game. You've just had a major upheaval. I'm not sure how you can be strict with your diet and still be easy with yourself, but try to be easy with yourself if you can. You're still doing really well. I'd still call you a success!

Head over to her blog and offer her a word of support if you have the time. Hang in there, Steph!

Success on the Vacation of Luuurve

I have a lot to tell you (which is what I'm flash-posting everywhere), but right now I'm still all jetlagged. What I did want to say is that my vacation against self-weirdness and hate was a total success. I put on dresses every day and wore makeup. I look worse in the photos that I've seen from the trip than I felt. Actually, throughout the thing I felt pretty damned good! I relaxed and enjoyed myself and my husband and my kid.

So what if I was fatter than I felt? So what if everyone else around me weighed less? I still dressed well, I acted young and flirty, I held myself with pride. My husband sure seemed to like it and that's all I need to say about that.

The super-de-duper dress worked a treat and I'll be posting photos of it over at Speckblog soon. It made my tits look awesome, if I do say so myself.

I also danced for five hours on Friday night. I got down. I sweated sheets of sweat and jumped around and shook my hair and I'm sure there are 6000 photos out there of me looking jiggly and stupid and many-chinned, but man did I feel amazing. Everyone wanted to dance with me. Everyone wanted my picture and I don't think that it was because I looked so amazingly stupid. At least, not too often.

I felt wonderful.

Then, on the way to work today I discovered that I suddenly began hating myself.

Ah. The culprit emerges.

Suddenly I know what's causing most of my self-esteem issues and I am very, very happy that I'm working on a new career.

Life is good. Look for dress pics because they are on their way.

I look wonderful, and so do you. Trust me. Nothing is as attractive as self-esteem.

How to Look Good Naked

How to Look Good Naked is a show currently running in the UK. It deals with real bodies with "boobs, butts and tummies" and how to dress them up and how to feel about them when they are undressed. I've not seen it, but only seen the website. I'm impressed so far, however, and really like the Naked Rules that they've listed. I think the first two stages they list are very important:

Stage 1: Face Your Fears
Take your clothes off in front of a mirror and have a long hard look at yourself
For many of our ladies, taking their clothes off in front of anyone had became a massive ordeal. Stripping off in front of a mirror and taking a good hard look at yourself in the first step to facing your fears and building up your confidence.

Stage 2: Change Your Self-Perception
You're not as big as you think you are
The media bombard us all with unrealistic airbrushed images of women every day. These images of the stick thin, surgically enhanced women aren't very realistic but these images portray women as beautiful and successful so it's hard for normal women not to want to be like them. However, most normal women do not look like them so these pictures enforce feelings of negativity and encourage low self esteem.

So, the second stage of looking good naked is to start waking up to the way the media works and stop comparing these images to the way you look. Wake up to the fact that you actually look pretty ok, that you aren't as big as you think you are AND look at all the women around you – I bet most of them are the same as you.

Even Flabuless, who is trying to lead a life that is healthier and more realistic has said that she dislikes the look of fat flesh, so ipso facto, she dislikes the look of herself. I think that many of the women I know dislike the way they look. I think it's sad that I spend so much time disliking myself. Hell, I'm the only person I can control, shouldn't I actually like me?!? I could be my one ace-in-the-hole for approval!

I have to say that while getting my makeup done and finding sexy jeans and getting a new dress I felt empowered as often as I felt overwhelmed. I looked bad sometimes, but sometimes I also looked good. I had moments where my perspective shifted and I actually saw myself as I believe others must see me and, man, I'm not nearly as fat as I feel.

This vacation to London is going to be important, I think. I have a successful, polite, adorable and secure three year old son. I have a hot, successful, adored, talented brilliant husband who loves me to no end. I myself am successful at work, am working on a new career that is tailor-made for my skill set and I'm well-spoken, smart, and well put-together. We have a house, healthy well-cared-for pets, vehicles and everything else that could possibly indicate a life on the track to good things.

This vacation I'm going to try and wallow in my success and love everyone, including myself. It's time to take a break from negativity. This vacation is going to be the Vacation of Lurve.

Feel free to jot that down.

The Perfect Dress!

I found it! I found it! I found it! I found it!

The perfect dress!!

I went for a last-ditch effort today and stopped by Nieman Marcus thinking that they wouldn't have anything. They had several things! Several things that fit! And didn't look frumpy! And then I picked this dress up off the shelf in Cobalt Blue:





YAYAYAYAYAYAY! It's just gorgeous. It fits me perfectly, and highlights everything that I want highlighted and hides the stuff I want to hide. It's a dark cobalt blue, so nothing bright or showy; it can be dressed down for the early afternoon wedding and dressed up for the fancy evening reception.

HOORAY!





I look hot and stylish! HOORAY! HOORAY FOR ME HOT AND SYLISH!

HOORAY!

Less Personal, Please

Or: The Power of Makeup

As my mate is slowly dropping a phenomenal amount of pounds by slamming on the treadmill every day like a superstah, and my mother sheds weight like water off a duck's back, I have stalled in my downward progress.

The illness crashed me out, the I wrenched my back, and then I had a killer period and am only now beginning to feel human again. Add to that my eating for comfort and I've been going the wrong way on the scale.

So I don't fit into the purple dress and am going to have to go get a last-minute emergency dress and I've been generally feeling crappy, ugly and unlovable.

However, I am determined that if we're attending the wedding of the fashion editor of the London Telegraph we will all look put together. Not necessarily fashion saavy, because we aren't, but the frump has got to go. Wallace has a new wardrobe primarily from H&M, I have sexy jeans and several dresses, as well as new boots to wear, and last night TT slid his hot new bod into a Calvin Klein suit that rocks.

Yesterday I also updated my makeup. Enough of this scrounging at the grocery store, I say! It's time to spend a little cash and get a few quality items! I procured some fancy makeup from the Nars counter at Nordstroms and within seconds of leaving the counter was hit on mercilessly.

On the escallator up a 30ish good looking guy is in front of me. He stares. I wonder what the hell he's staring about.

Guy: Do you know what floor this is?
Me: Um, third.
Guy: Okay. *pauses* See, I'm looking for something really specific.
Me: **
Guy: A pair of sheer pajama bottoms.
Me *wondering what the hell is wrong with this guy*: I don't work here.
Guy *embarassed*: I know you don't work here. I was just getting, you know, personal.
Me: Less personal would be better.

And that, my friends, is the power of makeup.

These are good carbs??

In my never ending search for easy to make/eat food I sometimes pick up a package of the latest diet trend food. I think I tried Slim fast years ago. Then came the Weight Watchers Meals ( and all the other frozen diet food). Unfortunately, Weight Watchers was easy to handle until they started all those frozen deserts too.

Let's see, frozen entree or frozen ice cream sandwich.......Hummmmmm. The way I saw it, "points is points." oooooooooo......chocolate brownie thingy....

I also saw me wolfing down TWO fake ice cream sandwiches instead of eating anything that my body could actually use. I had to give up on the convenience foods. They were always just an unsatisfying pit stop on the way to the land of chronic food abuse. They never tasted good enough or filled me up enough. You see, I really like food. I like good food. However, bad food is a waste of time.

Well folks, I've done it again.

I was grocery shopping this afternoon and the lure of easy food proved too much. I picked up a South Beach Diet Santa Fe Style lunch. I was captivated by its picture. Not frozen, and there is chicken, a bowl, cheese, CHIPS and DIET JELLO. Holy crap. There are 240 calories, 6gs of fat, 29 gs of Protein, and best of all....24 grams of Carbohydrates!! I could totally eat this and still have 5 gms of carbs left over for lunch !!!! AND I was starved....

I drove home, put the groceries on the counter and grub around until I found the South Beach Box. While grubbing I passed up some really yummy bread, a beautiful feta cheese, some walnuts and a variety of other things.

I briefly thought about making sandwich instead. I usually have a piece of multi-grain bread, a serving of tasty tuna with light mayo and a couple of romaine leafs. I include apple slices or a peach and maybe my protein drink if I need to protein grms. I'm always very satisfied with this lunch. I actually LIKE this lunch. It's real food. It's in my 'fridge and always available.

So anyway, I ripped open the box eager to see the delicious and generous portions of food I had imagined.

As I pulled out the tiny package of itty bitty chicken, the little package of shredded bland cheese, the leeetle bowl and the leeetle spoon I knew I had done it again. Still in denial, I was hoping that the Chipotle chips were awesome. I guess I was hoping they tasted like, I donno, Fritos??? I was hoping and hoping.

But...no. The lunch was a disappointment. Everything was so inferior to what I would have made for myself it was insulting. However, I had bought it and I had made it, so I ate it. But it was pretty bad. I sniffled just thinking of all the great food I passed while I was grubbing for this sorry excuse for a lunch. It was another big waste of time.

Oh me. Oh my.

I suppose I will never be immune to the charms of Madison Avenue. But I would like to think that I learn by my mistakes. Sitting here still sort of hungry and feeling foolish I wonder if I ever will.

So tell me. What food mistakes seem to haunt you like a stinky ghost? Do you have food lessons that you just can't seem to learn?

Stuck in 90' somethin'

During a recent visit from Krissy my self image was slightly shaken. It wasn't anything bad or hurtful just surprising. Here's what happened.

While sitting on our family room sofa and watching some silly late night show together, Krissy started teasing about our shockingly outdated TV. It is an old console TV. We do have cable on it but you have to actually get up to turn it on/off and to change the volume. It is huge. Not screen wise, just cabinet wise. Oh, and it is 18 years old.

I'm ashamed to say that the whole family has a lot of fun teasing Grandpa P about this TV. You see, he thinks it's great. Of course he knows it's hopelessly out of date but it still works and being the left brainier that he is he sees no reason to get rid of it.

I respect that. I even love that in him. (After all I'm sort of out of date myself) But it does give the family endless opportunity to tease at his expense. Then Krissy said something that surprised me. She started teasing me that the sofa and love seat we were sitting on were straight out of the 90's and didn't I think it was time to update.

What?

The sofa and love seat that I had bought? That I had planned the room around?

Sure it needed cleaning. No bad problems but a good cleaning. And, yes it was a plaid. I’ll even admit the funny looking pillows that came with it are flat and strange, but I never considered that it made the house look out of date. Hummmmm. What should I do? Here's the thing.

We will be moving to our “forever home” in about 4 years. I'm hoping we will be down south in the land of eternal good weather. Most of what we have in our colonial home in Maryland is not going to make the move with us. It's just too northern. Too colonial. I'm longing for tropical colors and open spaces.

”Ah-HA!” you say, “Perfect. Buy a new set now and buy something you will want to move with you.”

But, I have discovered that I have just enough Grandpa P in me to realize that in our world, that's just plain silly. Without knowing exactly where we are going and what we are going to need, I'm kidding myself by thinking that what I buy now will be what I want when we start "the best years of our lives"

The bottom line is we are not going to buy new furniture again until we are in our forever home. It's just that simple.

However, I don't really want to look out of date. I regularly buy slip covers, wrangle them onto the furniture, decide they look way to tacky, return them and end up living with my old furniture after all. Ugh. So, I have four years of the “same old same.”

Which brings me to my point. (Gottcha! And you thought I didn't have a point!)

Consider:

Variety and change keeps life updated. It has just occurred to me that one of the things that I love about food is that it is a very quick and fulfilling way to make changes. After all, no one has ever made a four year plan for a loaf of bread. Actually, you could make a daily plan for changing your bread and even the most left brain thinker in the world, Grandpa P, would applaud you. What a wonderful way to forget about things in life that are not changing any time soon. I also believe the majority of our lives are made up of those slow changing things. Really, think about it.

So we cook and we buy food from the store and we go to restaurants and we try every one of the items on the McD's dollar menu. And, well, maybe there is a connection there? I don’t know.

Maybe not. All I really know is that I have to learn how to take advantage of the fabulous changeable quality of food because, seriously, it doesn't take long for eggbeaters and toast to start looking like old furniture to me.

The trick is to make sure the changes are healthy ones. For me, that is going to be a big challenge.

What do you think?

In a world in which we have so little power to change things, do you use food because it is a deeply satisfying (not to mention legal) way to bring changes into your life?

Too many loose ends

It's Friday and there are too many loose ends today, for my taste. Everywhere I look I see things that need to be returned , put away, cleaned up, clarified......you name it.

My rose colored glasses are more like pink today. In fact, I'm a little bit grouchy. Maybe not grouchy maybe just tired. It could go either way. I find that is one thing strange about being by myself most of the day. With no immediate feedback from other people it can be hard to know exactly how I feel. Does that make any sense?

Okay. Info time.

Blood sugar:
125

This is probably the source of my discontent. The fluctuation of glucose value is a mystery to me. I'm not really too worried about the 125 but I don't understand how it can be 109 one day and 125 the very next day. I mean I'm not stupid, I know it has to do with exercise and things but my lifestyle habits have become standardized to the point of being dull even at the ripe old age of 52.

Scale:

I've dropped another pound. Good news ! So far ( from my high point 4-5 months ago ) I've lost 30 lbs. I still have another 30 to go. Ugh. Depressing. Maybe this is another source of my discontent. (I'm such a spoiled brat. I should be doing the Funky Chicken and singing "Joy to the world" right? )

Yesterday's Post OP check-up for gallbladder surgery:

I'm doing very well. However, I am not allowed to go back to the aqua aerobics for another week. A major bummer for me. I just know that my glucose would be lower if I could exercise.

Hummmmmm. How startling. I find I'm more concerned about the blood sugar than the weight loss. Who Knew?

Well, there you have it. I've decided. I'm grouchy because I'm tired. As almost three year old Wallace would say, "Sounds good, yea?"

So, what makes your glasses turn pink instead of rosy rose colored?

Nana P is Learning to be Kind to Herself

While I thrash around innefectively.

Seriously, reading NP's post below, wouldn't you rather be like her? She's eating well and excercising regularly. She's brave enough to take her blood sugars and get on the scale.

And she has somehow managed to make me realize that the part of me who encourages me to just go for it is not my enemy, just a well-meaning but misguided friend.

I now have something to think about today. So often my first response is "how can I beat this situation into submission?" and NP's is "How can I make this work for me?"

That's one of the coolest things about her. Hmmmmmmm...

I just KNOW it.

It's pretty early here in Nana land. Grampa Poopyhands just left for work and I'm enjoying my first cup of coffee. This is the time of morning when I have to do two things each day without fail.

1) Take a fasting blood sugar.
Done: 112

Hey, not too bad really.

2) Step on the scale.
Not done yet

I feel so good this morning I know that I'm gonna hop on that scale and it will say that I'm at my perfect goal weight.

How, do I know this? Well. I woke up easily. My blood sugar is good. I've been very faithful to my diet for a couple of months. I've lost weight steadily. And, I'm a little hungry.

CAUTION:

It's these successful mornings that get me in trouble. Because of the positive feelings I have and after two months of success, my young and healthy inner person is saying:

" see, you don't have a weight issue. You're too healthy and smart. Don't worry about it. Live and enjoy life. Stop making this a big deal in your life. "

And I really love my inner healthy person. She is fun. She is young. She is athletic and strong.

I really, really like her.

But here's the problem. She is very seductive. I always seem to get to this point in my weight loss and turn to her because she is everything I want to be. Not everything I really am.

I get lost in her carefree thinking. And I usually take her advice. I stop making this a big deal in my life. It's a fatal mistake for me. It's called magical thinking and I appear to be a master.

I stop food journaling. I stop avoiding certain foods. And, most importantly, I stop stepping on the scale. And after a week, she abandons me.

I end up feeling as if I just bought oceanfront property in Arizona . Humiliated.

So folks, after this morning cup of coffee I'm headed upstairs to hop on the scale. Not because I feel bad or desperate about having to loose weight, no, quite the opposite.

It's because I've just had coffee with my inner healthy self. I love her but I want to remember that she is unreliable. Well intended but unreliable.

I'm done with my coffee and now I'm headed up for a shower including stepping on the scale for a healthy dose of reality.

Why oh why??

Have you ever wondered what would happen if your brain was suddenly transported into someone else's physical body?? Oh please, of course you have.

What would the world look like? What would it feel like? I have sometimes fantasized about suddenly owning someone else's physical body and being absolutely overwhelmed by what that body endures on a continual basis.

After all I still have my brain and my learned experiences. Are any of my own coping mechanisms transferable to someone else's physical senses?

I wonder, since my brain is somewhat neurologically confused due to MS, when the donor body was properly hookup to my brain, what would happen to all of the donor nerve cells? Would my right foot buzz all day like it does in my body? Or, would I find out that what I thought was a buzzing foot is someone’s normal foot mode?

Still, as Krissy reminded me yesterday, since they haven't really perfected the teleportation skills promised in 1967, I might, in fact, just explode losing both my cherished, if not perfect, brain and someone else's innocent body at the same time.

And, why oh why, am I even thinking about this while trying to loss weight??

Okay, here's why.

Most of us have pictures of ourselves that when they were taken made us just cringed. Too fat. Too pale, Too plain, Too drunk, Wrong hair, Bad clothes and the list goes on and on. You know what I mean.

We have also all had the experience of looking at those same pictures years later and wondering "what the hell was I thinkin??" I looked good !!! ( except for the clothes issue. There will never be enough time to correct the fashion disaster of my youth, the 60's)

Well, it occurred to me this morning that maybe looking at those pictures after so many years is a little like seeing yourself as others see you. You know, the brain, body thing....

And, if you do look good so many years later to the person you've become, there is an excellent chance that you truly looked that good to everyone else back then too. Get it???

If you want to be a pooh about it, you could just say the short version of all this thinking is " You are your own worst critic". You would be right, of course. I have just taken the long and prettier way around.

Now here's my point and application.

The next time I hear someone say that I look good and I think that they are blowin' beans in the air, I'm going to try to stop for a minute and consider that they may just be right.

Of course, I won't know if it's true for a couple of years but by that time that moment to enjoy looking good will have long passed. Sad.

I have decided, I can no longer afford to miss any opportunities to feel good about myself, even if I think I know better

Tired of Being Ugly

It's an ugly title, but it's the way I feel. When my husband tells me I'm beautiful, I feel beautiful. Every other moment in the day I feel average.

When the room filled with adorable dresses only goes up to 12, and the saleswoman recoils and fairly orders me up to the fat chick section where there are four dresses in my size, all in black or near-black, and I try on dresses and look like this, well... Ugly.





I've gained back all the weight I lost while excercising over the past month, without even trying. I'm sick again, and not just transition sick, but thanks to the antibiotics my IC is back, so who knows when I'll be able to get moving properly again.

Shit, look at me. I wouldn't fucking date me. I wouldn't blame anyone else for not dating me either. I'm 31. I'm not 45, I'm 31. I look 45.

Most of the time I can ignore it, but with the wedding coming up it's clear to me that I'm going to be the fat flower in the bunch. I hate it. I hate it. I hate me.

God I could sleep forever.

Summer of love.

So, I joined a local health club and started taking the aqua aerobics.

The thing is, I have always hated to get into cold water of any kind. I simply can't do it.
Years ago during our annual family vacation at the ocean I would lay out soaking up the sun and salt. I would make sure all the kids had SPF 200 on and that I had enough snacks to sustain a hungry family.

I would lay on the blanket and sunbathe with my girls and remember feeling happy and restful. I would sit under the shade of the umbrella with my husband drinking icy cold sodas with a thin layer of sand clinging to the outside thinking " could I ever want anything more than this?" I loved our beach life. I looked forward to each vacation at the shore. All things seemed possible during those times.

Well, except for one thing.

I rarely ever got into the water. I loved the water. I loved watching the girls boogie boarding and hopping waves. I would watch my husband get into the water and play with the girls, he often had one hanging off his neck and the other two bouncing around in the waves with him. But, I seldom ever joined in.

It wasn't vanity, my hair was wild on that week anyway. It wasn't fear of the water or what was in the water. It wasn't the jelly fish or that I was embarrassed by how I looked ( I looked great ). It was getting into cold water. I just simply couldn't do it.

It has been many years since those perfect summer vacations. My beautiful girls are grown and moved on. Those family vacations remind me that there was life before Multiple Sclerosis and diabetes. It was a life I loved. It was a life I miss.

Fast forward 10-15 years, enter MS and diabetes.

One of the most important therapies for MS is exercise. But, so many of us have balance and stamina problems, exercise often seems impossible.

Like wise, part of staying healthy with Diabetes is exercise. It helps with weight loss and it helps the body process carbohydrates ridding the blood of organ damaging glucose.

Clearly I had to find a way to exercise. It was a the only tool I still had some control over and I needed to use it. Enter aqua aerobics. It was perfect. If my MS made me fall while jogging in the water, so what? If my right leg sort of drifted away instead of coming up to touch my hand, so what?

It was perfect.

Aqua aerobics is more efficient move for move than land aerobics. A double hit. I had found my perfect workout. Except for one thing.

I would have to get into the water.

Think YMCA pools, think outdoor pools after a pouring rain, think the ocean. Think " how in the world am I going to do this???" But I was determined that I had to, there was simply no other reasonable option for me. I just knew it wasn't going to be pleasant.

" Ha!" my inner Nazi said " really? and you think MS and Diabetes are pleasant? Huh??"

Aqua Aerobics is was.

So, there I was, standing at the edge of the pool. I wasn't thinking about the fact that my bathing suit showed just how weight I had gained or that my modesty was going to be sorely tested in the locker room. ( when did they start making these short little bath towels? I remember when they used to wrap around me a couple of times at least. ) All I was thinking about was stepping into the cold water of a pool.

Then I took that first step into the pool.

I knew I had finally found my exercise. While the warm soothing water started hugging my body, my brain was flooded with the memories of those perfect summer days with my family at the beach.

But this time I was in the water.

The euphoria was kinda short lived because the instructor Nazi soon started the music and barking at us to tune of " you gotto move it, move it, move it" Still, I was hooked.

Now, every time I go to workout I get a few seconds of pure pleasure memories flooding my brain.

What better motivation could I ever need??

Dear Doctor, " your pants are on fire!!!! "

I'm pretty happy that my beloved daughter has invited me to join this little band of brave souls. I've had many health issues lately and now I have to get very serious about losing the weight. I am journeling at CalorieKing.com and thought it would be fun to hang here as well. So, here is goes, oh hold me, I'm scared.

So, I've just finished setting this blog up. I have to shower and take a nap now. It was that stressful for me. Yikes. I still feel bashful about logging in weights and such. I'll get used to it I'm sure.


Well. I had my dietician appointment today. It went well. I lost 5 lbs from two weeks ago but I think that is more a function of my incredible nausea and comatose like state after my gallbladder surgery.

Why this surgery was so difficult I'll never know. I had been just casually telling people that I was going in for a real quick laparoscopic procedure and I'd be up and around in a couple of days. No PROB.......

I think I was lied to. Yep I really do. What was suppose to be a short out patient procedure ended up an admission (not that I was in any way able to request it or not) and three days of twilight living.

I do remember thinking that I didn't even know that I had anything in my bladder as I was watching the lime jello on the way back up.

So the fact that I even was at the dietician’s office and that I looked good and that I was able to eat at all for the past two days is quite an achievement. I'm tuff, usually.

Crazy week. crazy.

I have approximatley 35 lbs to go to get to me first sigh of relief.