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Someone got to my site by searching “bullshit goals”. I think that may be the name of my next blog. Because sometimes, it it so apropo.

The eating thing has basically gone down the drain. I am making a half-hearted attempt to stay in my goals (bullshit goals), particularly with lunches. Half-hearted being the operative word here. I’m trying not to give up completely. I really am.

The problem is two-fold. The first is the fact that I really do not know what the best plan for me is. The Diabetic Exchange worked for a while. However, I began to have concerns with how few calories I was eating, given the very-scientific internet research I was doing. I got worried that I was starting to burn my own muscle instead of fat. This got worse when I plateaud back in September. Was the plateau a result of my diet or my lack of discipline? I honestly don’t know. Or was the lack of discipline a result of being so rigid for so long? Again, I’m not sure. On this journey, hindsight isn’t always 20-20.

The other problem is all of the stress I am dealing with. I’ve never had an easy time eating well under stress, it’s one of my coping mechanisms, I’ll admit it. I’m not a big overeater, per se. However, I do lack the motivation to make good choices. Making good choices requires a lot of work and dedication for me. It’s something that dealing with a dying grandmother, a sick father, and trying to conceive just don’t leave me with. I have no emotional energy left. One might argue that eating well isn’t emotional. They would not know me well at all if they tried to propose that. They might then argue that I should seek some professional help if eating is an emotional issue. I am not sure I could argue with them. But if I’m not stressed out, I’ve been able to make some good choices.

For the time being, I am going to keep exercising. And doing the best I can day to day, but I cannot beat myself up for making not-the-best-choices. I just can’t. So that is where I stand.

Oh. Khalil has also put the scales away- they’re in his closet. Until, maybe… June? July?

She said, after I mentioned that I was scared my father would die before he got a transplant and after a few minutes, that she just hopes we have joy and happiness in our lives. That we find joy every day. I asked her if she had. She thought about it for a few minutes.

She told me that she had. She had made alot of mistakes, and she wishes she hadn’t. She wishes that when you are younger you know what you do once you’re older, because you need it when you’re younger. I commented that the only way you know it once you’re older is because you learned from those very mistakes. She agreed, but wished there was a different way to learn. She talked about wishing she had made some different choices and decisions. We talked about the amazing people and friends she has in life despite her “mistakes”.

I asked her what her favorite memory is. “Of you?”. No, favorite all time memory, although I will ask her one day what her favorite memory of me is. It has to be soon. She thinks. There’s alot to think about, she’s been alive for 80 years. She tells me that she enjoyed spending time in Rockport, she loved those summers. She mentions her best friend, who passed away a year or two ago.

“I was so honored she chose me as her friend. I never expected it from someone like her.”

“Why not?”

“Because we all looked up to her. She was who we went to for advice. She’d listen to anything you had to tell her, and keep your secrets. She gave good advice, scriptural advice. I was also so surprised she’d want someone like me as a friend.”

“I would think she’d be honored to have you as a friend.”

“I was honored to have her.”

This surprises me. My grandmother is the best, most Godly person I know. She’s a person who truly follows what she believes, and there’s no hypocrisy in it. Maybe it took her a lifetime to come to that, I don’t really know. But I know who she is now, and she’s one of the best people I know. One of my favorites.

***

I ask what her favorite memory of my mother is. She thinks. My mother pipes up from the backseat, “I know my favorite memory of mom.” I ask what it is. She says, “well, there was this time I had to type a paper for school…. did I tell you this already?” I tell her she did, but I want to hear it again. I love hearing their memories, I want to soak them up and never forget them. My mom tells me about how she procrastinated on a paper at school, and was tired and frustrated with the typewriter. My grandma came in and took the paper and typed it up for her. In about 15 minutes. That’s her favorite memory- of a mother being there for her daughter. Without reproach. Just… being there.

They go back and forth sharing memories. “Remember when Shannon first walked?” “I remember the time I told Shannon not to wake her brother. She did, and then undressed him. I spanked her for that. When Sue and Pete came to pick the kids up, Shannon wouldn’t speak to me!” “Remember when Ellie walked, at our engagement party?”

***

She is alluding to the regrets she has in parenting. We’ve though for a while that she may have some, her sons don’t always treat her as they should. They’ve made mistakes too, who among us hasn’t? She’s telling me that there weren’t all those books to teach you about parenting back when she was parenting. I counter that the books all give conflicting information anyway, so how far does that really get today’s parents anyway?

***

We’re at dinner. She’s told me this story before, but it’s one of my favorites. My friend’s husband is applying to Juliard, and she mentions that she dated a man who went to Juliard. She wonders what happened to him. I remind her that she told me, and ask her some questions. I want to get to the best part. “He was before Gramps, right?” Yes. “You left him for Gramps, huh?” Yes, something like that. “What did he play, again?” Clarinet and saxophone. “I’ve always heard that saxophone players make good kissers.” She laughs, in that way she does. She says with a smile, “He WAS a good kisser, he was a very good kisser!” and laughs again. My mother looks at us with a shocked face.

I tell my mom, “These are the kind of conversations we have. What can I say?” She tells me she had similar ones with her grandmother.

***

When they are talking about memories, she tells another one about my sister (there are alot about her. I’m a teeny bit jealous.) She talks about how my mom used to bring my brother and sister by. She remembers my sister sitting on the toilet watching her put makeup on while she got ready for work. She’d always put a little on my sister while she watched.

When I was little, I used to sit on the toilet and watch my sister put makeup on. She’d always put a little on me.

When I babysit my niece, that is- my sister’s daughter, she sits on the toilet and watches me put makeup on. I always put a little on her.

***

Thank you guys for the support.

What I’m finding that generally makes me feel better:

1. Time with my husband.

2. Chocolate

3. Sleep. (I wake up, and it’s a new day. I can start over.)

I’m doing decent with the chocolate- I actually haven’t binged. I am keeping to me .5 cup of slow-churned ice cream each night. But I love that .5 cup. I wait for it. I plan it out. And I savor it. I swear to you, there is a drug in chocolate that makes you feel better. It’s the strangest thing.

It would be one thing to have my dad be in liver failure. And to have him leaving next week for “preliminary testing” and possibly staying out of state while he waits for the transplant. It would be stressful, scary and sad. Overwhelming and stressful.

It would be one thing to have Grandma diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. To have to process the fact that she will not be here for the duration of the year. That she will never see me have children. That we will have to help her die, if that’s even possible. To try and support my mom as she supports my grandmother. To try and be there for Grandma. To talk about hospice and radiation. It would be scary. And sad- so, so sad. Heart-wrenchingly sad. It would be overwhelming and stressful.

For so long weight loss took front and center. The fact that I needed to lose weight was the thing that bothered me, the thing I needed to deal with. Then we didn’t get pregnant as quickly as we thought we would. That started to take over. That is significantly more stressful than the weight thing.

Then people started getting sick. Nothing puts stress into perspective more than a very sick or dying close relative.

It would be one thing if they were doing it one at a time. This is going on all at the same time. It is beyond overwhelming. At any given moment, you don’t know who to think about. Who to worry about. Who to be scared about. You don’t know who to imagine your life without, because that is a fact of reality for one and a distinct possibility with the other. Who do you cry about? How do you even process this?

The answer is one day at a time. You don’t spend alot of time processing, because you get through each day as it comes. You take things one situation at a time. You wipe away the tears, again, and move on. You remind yourself that you will get through this. That if you just keep getting up, you will get through all of this. Your life may change forever, but you can get through this. One. Day. At. A. Time.

Yesterday it got cold. Biting, frigid, raw. All season long we’ve been saying things like, “Can you believe this weather?” and, “Where’s winter?” Well, winter has reared it’s ugly head.

Alright. Ugly may not be the word for it, depending on who you are. With winter’s arrival came a cold for me. It’s been a while since I’ve been sick and I think I may be a bit whiny about it. I hate being sick. I really and truly do.

Last year winter whipped down on us in blizzard form. This year it’s taken a while to come, again (is this a trend?) but is arriving more gently. Instead of showering us with a blizzard, it’s wooing us with frigid temperatures and biting wind.

For the longest time I listened to my mom. She always told me when you’re sick you have to let your body rest. Since I started exercising I’ve done some research on whether or not to exercise when you have a cold. It has been highly scientific research as well, done primarily on message and chat boards on the internet. Very reliable, I am sure. Well, my reliable, scientific research has shown that it is ok to exercise if the cold is in your head, but if it moves to your chest to take it easy (you know, that whole needing-to-breathe thing).

Since my cold is in my head, I’ve been exercising every day. This is huge for me. I’m so determined to lose the Christmas weight and finally, once and for all, move out of the stupid 180s. I was glad to get into them, when I was in the 190s. But now that I’ve been in them for, I don’t know, four and a half months, I’m quite ready to say goodbye.

What kills me? Is that once, one day, I was in the 170s. Then another day? I was in the 210s. I can’t focus on that, because it will do my efforts in. But it does make me sad.

I’m not feeling so hot. I have a cold. It’s been a long time since I got a cold, something that used to happen on a regular basis. I am grateful for the exercise, water, and vitamins for keeping me cold-free for this long, however it feels a little like all the colds I haven’t had are wrapped up into this one.

There. That was fun, listening to me bitch, no? I got nothing else, sorry.

Except! I almost forgot. My friend Leah commented on the pictures of my muffins below- she said *harumph!* they look good but not healthy! Wrong you are Leah!

They have 1/4 cup of sugar. I made 12 muffins instead of 6. They are made with whole wheat flour and have ~130 calories per muffin. I *heart* them. They’re banana-raisin muffins, and if anyone wants the recipe, let me know.

The Wendy’s Grilled Chicken Sandwich (ultimate grill). No sides. An apple I brought with me. Water.

I gained eight pounds over Christmas, approximately. I have lost 6.2 of them. The first week I lost 3.6 and this past week? 2.6.

 I’m proud of myself. I’m actually doing this. I’ve made mistakes, and just picked myself back up. If I screw up, I haven’t given up the whole day. I’ve moved on. I’m slowly but surely finding a way to live with the life I have to live with if I don’t want to be huge and sick my entire life.

Yesterday I was all of these: cranky pants, crabapple, oscar the grouch, Royal Bitch. I don’t know what’s wrong.

I felt blah. Down. Bored. Unsettled. Out of sorts. But I don’t know why. I’m not sure there really is one specific reason, as much as it may have been little pieces of alot of things getting to me. I feel somewhat better today, though I’m finding myself still snappy. Like when you start to take yourself too seriously, and all of a sudden nothing’s funny anymore. It’s not a pretty place to be and I don’t like myself when I’m in it.

My favorite pictures of Caleb and Ellie:

For more pictures of them, go see my other site.

So what do I do yesterday to make myself feel better?

When I started my blog, I was all, “this is just for me, this has nothing to do with readership  or comments.” Ha. It still is just for me, and if I only had two readers, my sister and my husband, I’d still write. Cuz I love it.

 But. I’m going to be a lemming. Sometimes more than two people read my blog. Actually I have a few regularish commenters now (hi guys! I love you!) which is very cool.

I’m still going to mention this, though, just for kicks. It’s National DeLurking Week. Feel free to say hi.

Also? So I can be considered even more of a lemming? I’m totally doing a meme that all the cool bloggers are doing. Five things you don’t know about me. Or something like that. This should be fun. Ha.

1. I did gymnastics until I was in high school, then I taught gymnastics. I was thisclose to doing it on a competitive level, but that takes $$$ and my family didn’t have extra of that running around. So I didn’t. I used to wonder where I’d be now if that was different. I loved gymastics and hope my kids do it.

2. While my family didn’t have any money, they still afforded to send me to a private, Christian school from 1-12 grade. My mom would tell you that God provided the money. I really wonder where I’d be if that money had gone towards my blossoming gymnastics career.

3. I’m a Spanish class drop-out. I started Spanish in September and was gung-ho until I realized that I would in fact not learn Spanish by osmosis. That I would actually have to do homework, study vocab, and write things out. I did that half-heartedly and then quit. Go me.

4. I am a TV-addict. I particularly love trashy reality TV. This is a habit that drives my husband bananas.

5. I’ve always wished I had a real hobby or talent. I’ve never thought I did. Now I’m starting photography, and sometimes I feel so cliche about it. But it’s something I really love to do. It’s kind of nice having something other than weight loss to consider a hobby.

There you go!! Hope to hear from you!

Yup. I’ve been a horrible blogger all week. This is what happens when there are things going on, but I don’t want to write about them. I just stop writing altogether. Good coping skill, no?

 Moving on. I lost three point six pounds this week. On the one hand, I’m thrilled. On the other, I feel like it almost doesn’t count because it’s still the weight that I gained over Christmas. Go me.

I’m still making good choices. Still hanging in there. This lame catch-up post sucks, I know. But. But! I’m going tonight to see my niece and nephew, and am bringing my camera. So Friday or Saturday you can count on a picture post. That’s always a good thing to do when avoiding talking about something you really don’t want to deal with just yet.

I exercised this morning. At 5 am. To be at work at 7:15am.

I did not “eat my feelings” (for lack of a more cheezy phrase) all weekend. I was disciplined, imagine that!

Khalil was at his mom’s doing laundry. I was home, finally getting ready to wind down after taking down Christmas decorations, putting up our regular stuff, and cleaning.

I see the Moose Munch. I think, “What will one bite hurt? It won’t.”

I take one bite, and sit on the couch. aaahhh that tastes good. ( my one bite was a piece that was more like three bites.) Rory’s head pops up, which means that Khalil is home. Greaaaat. I hope that maybe she actually heard a neighbor, or something…

No such luck. Khalil knocks with laundry. I shove the last two bites in my mouth and get the laundry inside.

“What’cha snacking on?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Maybe nothing.”

“hmm.”

“Alright. Fine. Moose munch.”

“hmm.”

“What? I just wanted one bite. Of course. I haven’t eaten anything bad in almost a week, resisted the stupid Moose Munch. I finally have one piece and you come home. I can’t even CHEAT!”

“Maybe that’s God’s way of saying you shouldn’t eat the Moose Munch?”

We threw it away.

Not eating the Moose Munch.

Had this ongoing conversation with myself all night. This follows four days of eating well and very bad news about my grandmother’s health:

I really want some chocolate. Oh. There’s still Moose Munch here. Hmm… I’ll wait until after dinner. Maybe I’ll have some after dinner. No. I really don’t want any. I have all those pounds I gained to lose, Moose Munch is not going to help that. But I’m having a bad night. I deserve some Moose Munch already. Who deserves crap? Really, Paige? You deserve Moose Munch? Don’t you deserve to treat your body right, to listen to it and feed it well? Don’t you? No. Wait on the Moose Munch. But I want it. I really do. I’m craving it. It’s been four days. Once I eat it I’ll feel better, at the very least I won’t be riding this roller coaster anymore- you know, the “do I? don’t I?” rollercoaster. It’s getting pretty annoying. Just eat it. Then you’ll feel better. Then you can just admit you made a mistake. You can write about it and then just own up to it and move on. That’s what you do right? Make mistakes then admit them? Right? No. I don’t want to have any. All those pounds I gained. Do I want to waste all that exercising? It was hard to get up and exercise!

********

It ended briefly when I entered my food into Sparkpeople. Realizing that I was still in my calorie range for the day even after pizza made me not want to blow it with Moose Munch. But this is the cycle I go through all the time. To exercise or not to? Eat well or eat crap? Drink water or skip it?

This time around my resolve has been pretty strong. I’d like to keep it that way and not blow it just because I’m upset. I’d like to not eat my feelings for once. I can do this.

I’m in withdrawal mode. In that, I’m withdrawing from all of the indulgences I’ve been enjoying the last few weeks.

For starters, there’s the couch. I’m pretty sure my butt hurts just from sitting on the hard chairs at work. My couch is very soft and giving. It allows me to sit up or lay down. I can even sleep if I want to. They don’t look fondly on me sleeping on the hard chairs at work.

There’s also the caffeine. I’m sluggish and basically craving a huge coffee. I just want the… small buzz that goes along with it. I could even use a Diet Coke. But Diet Coke is one of the gateway drugs for me- I drink so much water when I’m eating well that I don’t have room in my bladder for Diet Coke. If I’m drinking Diet Coke, it’s in lieu of water. Which is a bad sign. But I miss it.

Should we get started on fried food and, um, sugar? SUGAR. Sugaaaaaaaaaaaaar. What I wouldn’t give for something soft, sweet, and full of carbohydrates. Preferably chocolate. Chocolate bread perhaps? (wait. That’s brownies.)

I don’t miss feeling like crap though. And that’s what it really boils down to. I miss losing weight and feeling good more than I miss the stuff I’m withdrawing from. I do pity my husband for the process though. I’m not a pretty person right now.

Kitchen cleaned out? check

Chocolate in trash? check

Healthy foods bought? check

Exercise videos dusted off? check

Transfirmer step out and about? check

Exercise completed? check

Sparkpeople membership reactivated? check

Food journal printed and ready to go? check.

I’m on my way, you guys. I have updated Sparkpeople, exercised, and eaten decently. I’m 48 or so calories over the top of my range, but for day one that ain’t half bad. I have said no to a freshly baked cinnamon roll at staff meeting this morning. I have not inhaled the Moose Munch that’s still here when I was starving. So I’ve had mostly good decisions today.

On to tomorrow.

In 2005, I had big plans for 2006. I was going to love my new job, but get pregnant and have to leave it in 2007. I was going to get pregnant. (I just looked. In January, I was going to “start trying” in 2006.) I was going to lose tons of weight, and exercise religiously- I think I was even going to learn to like it. I was going to complete my hours for my LCSW exam. And blog more often.

Well, two out of six ain’t bad. I do love my new job and I have been better about blogging. Clearly, the pregnancy thing did not work out. I did great on the weight loss and exercise goals, for a grand total of about four months. I’m done with my supervision hours for my LCSW, and still have yet to go on the work hours. I should be done soon, though.

What do I want 2007 to bring? Are we talking bullshit goals or real goals? For bullshit goals I’d like to:

Be a better wife, and friend. Learn to accept my fate, whether it includes the real goals or not. Learn to love myself better. Grow as a social worker. Grow as a person.

But for real goals:

1. Really- be serious about losing weight. Get off my fat ass and do it, and not give up this time when the going gets rough.

2. Get my LCSW (that includes finishing the hours, the application, and passing a very big exam.)

3. Get pregnant. Stay pregnant. Have baby.

4. Take more pictures. Learn how to use my fancy pants new camera. Be a better photographer.

I think four goals is good. Less to really stick to, you know. And three of them are in my control. Which makes for better odds.

This year has been, overall, a good one. It has had it’s ups and downs. When I think of the downs of the year, losing a friend is the number one thing that pops into my head. My mom moving to Kentucky is - while not a heartbreaker, not one of my favorite events of the year. I faced the harsh reality that my weight affects not just my day to day living and my emotional healthy, but also my long-term health. That turned into being a good thing. I started to face the reality that my father is ill. I also started to deal with the fact that me getting pregnant was not going to happen like it did for the rest of the women in my family- I would not simply think about it and be pregnant.

I had my ups though. I started to like exercise. I started eating the right way, and started losing weight. I got to see my niece and nephew alot, and learned more about how much I love my sister. Khalil and I had an amazing year together. We get stronger and stronger.

Overall, 2006 was a good year. I hope 2007 tops it, though.

My first big act of 2007? Is to start a new blog. It’s really just for pictures. I’m not going to like here from there, because I think I will share that blog with my family. But the main point of it is to have a place to showcase my pictures. Now that I have the new camera, I’m going to try and take pictures more often. Like, daily. And I want a place to share them! There’s not much there now, but my next item for today is to put stuff there. So it will be up soon. Go on and visit!

Happy New Year!!

Here’s to 2007!

We’re not drunk at all…

who are these people?

Here you go, Shannon.

What do you think??

Have a wonderful New Year!! See you tomorrow! (later today). I promise.