Beauty and Losing It – Week 4

This was me in 1990. Since then I’ve lost those hideous glasses, straightened and whitened my teeth (good heavens, how could a 5th grader have such horrible yellow teeth?), gained a few million pounds and gotten a somewhat better haircut.

Oh yeah, and my mom finally allowed me to wear makeup. (And shave my legs, but let’s be honest: I’m not nearly as excited about that as I was back then.)

But in my heart? I’m still that ugly duckling . . . and I’ll never be a swan.

I know, I know. That’s a ridiculous thought. Not because I’m some supermodel, though my mom insists on calling me Beautiful Baby Girl and my husband is smart enough to say I’m pretty.

No, it’s ridiculous because I Was Created In God’s Image. And we’re all beautiful, each and every one of us. I know. I KNOW.

But do I really believe that?

Well, no. Not really. I mean, I believe it about you. Sure. But me? No. I’m a nearsighted, yellow-toothed chubby dork. No matter what I see in the mirror, a small part of me still feels like that 11-year-old girl.

I’m not asking for sympathy or fishing for compliments. SERIOUSLY. I’m just admitting to one more bit of my CRAZY. My friend Sarah has had guest posters talk about beauty all week and asked us to do the same.

So there you have it. My kind of late night, definitely stream of consciousness thoughts on beauty – or lack of.

Now don’t go planning an intervention for me. I’m not dwelling on this craziness, I promise. But it’s there. Do you have a definition of beauty – or lack of – in a dark corner of your heart?

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On a related note, I guess it’s time to talk Losing It 10, huh?

This week I went walking one night with my friend Brittany (and Annalyn who was so excited to see her friend “Bernie” and actually cooperated when I put her in her stroller). And I’m drinking lots of water. (Yes, I will mention that every week. Sometimes it’s all I’ve got, okay?!) And even though I have not written down all my food and points, I have figured the points on most my food. So there’s that.

I am committing to writing down everything I eat this next week. I did it the first two weeks and lost weight. It’s really the only way I can keep myself on track.

How did you do this last week? And what’s your goal for next week?

Each week for the next 7 weeks, Jessie from Vanderbilt Wife, Ashleigh from Heart & Home and I will be sharing a peek (or in the case of this wordy ramble, an oversized bay window) into our weight loss journeys.

If you’d like to take the challenge to Lose It (#LosingIt10 on Twitter, by the way), write about your own journey, link to this site in your post, and share a link to your blog post in our weekly carnival. The bloggers who link up at least six out of the 10 weeks will be eligible for our prize package of a six-month subscription to The Six O'Clock Scramble (a meal planning service), a Weight Watchers pedometer and a gift card to Dick's Sporting Goods.

The winner will be the person who loses the largest percentage of his or her body weight during the 10 weeks.

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Losing It - Week 3

Today is the end of our third week of Losing It: Not Just Our Sanity. Each week for the next 8 weeks, Jessie from Vanderbilt Wife, Ashleigh from Heart & Home and I will be sharing a peek (or in the case of this wordy ramble, an oversized bay window) into our weight loss journeys.

If you’d like to take the challenge to Lose It (#LosingIt10 on Twitter, by the way), write about your own journey, link to this site in your post, and share a link to your blog post in our weekly carnival. The bloggers who link up at least six out of the 10 weeks will be eligible for our prize package of a six-month subscription to The Six O'Clock Scramble (a meal planning service), a Weight Watchers pedometer and a gift card to Dick's Sporting Goods.

The winner will be the person who loses the largest percentage of his or her body weight during the 10 weeks.

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This week wasn’t quite as good as last week, and I had one particularly, spectacularly terrible night. Annalyn and I went to the store after I picked her up from daycare, and she was A Bear.

According to my darling child, I went to the wrong grocery store. Yes, my 2-year-old daughter knows the difference between our various grocery stores, and yes, she has her favorites.

And I had the nerve to go to the wrong one.

It was all downhill from there. Let me just say, there was screaming and crying and throwing herself over the side of the cart in loud desperation. Not throwing herself OUT of the cart. Just over it, like she was passed out. But she wasn’t. She was just protesting the injustice of my terrible parenting skills and grocery store choices.

I cracked. I bought a frozen pizza. And a box of chocolate Pop Tarts. And a bottle of Coke.

I know. I KNOW!

Then, because I have a feeling you might understand just exactly how frustrating this was, I couldn’t get the Coke open.

I tried. And tried. AND TRIED. But I could not, for the life of me, get that 20 oz. open.

Despite that sad situation, I still ate more food than any one person should in one sitting. And I felt TERRIBLE. Oh, my stomach hurt so bad! I even felt sick the next morning. As I should. I totally deserved that stomach ache!

What I’m not sure I deserve is a weight loss when I go to my Weight Watchers meeting today. I did okay, but not great. And obviously had this crazy night of gluttony that was not exactly “on plan.”

So, we’ll see. I have still been drinking my water, and I have still not been exercising. But I did talk to my friend Brittany about walking next week, so I’m hoping that helps.

Oh, also – I tried Thomas’ Bagel Thins. They are tasty and only one point. But they are THIN. Yeah, I know, that might seem obvious from the names. Bagel THINS. I’m just saying that they’re so thin I wanted to eat two. And, maybe I did.

So, that’s me – the kind of good, the bad and the Pop Tart Ugly. How was your week?

UPDATE: I gained a pound back. The moral of this story? Don't buy the Pop Tarts!! (Or don't take your 2-year-old to the grocery store . . . as if I can avoid THAT!)

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“She’ll lose her baby fat when she starts walking.”

Welcome to the first official week of Losing It: Not Just Our Sanity. Each week for the next 10 weeks, Jessie from Vanderbilt Wife, Ashleigh from Heart & Home and I will be sharing a peek (or in the case of this wordy ramble, an oversized bay window) into our weight loss journeys.

If you’d like to take the challenge to Lose It (#LosingIt10 on Twitter, by the way), write about your own journey, link to this site in your post, and share a link to your blog post in our weekly carnival. The bloggers who link up at least six out of the 10 weeks will be eligible for our prize package of a six-month subscription to The Six O'Clock Scramble (a meal planning service), a Weight Watchers pedometer and a gift card to Dick's Sporting Goods.

The winner will be the person who loses the largest percentage of his or her body weight during the 10 weeks.

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Apparently I was a chubby child. I say “apparently,” because for my entire life my family has teased me, from reminders of my grandma’s promise (see above title) to my parents thinking the trash bag commercial slogan was a perfect fit for my brother and me.

I’m talking about “Hefty, Hefty, Hefty! Wimpy, Wimpy, Wimpy!” I’ll let you guess which one was me, and no, they did not mean that I was strong.

And then there’s the Sears girls size: husky. Husky? Are you kidding me? Was there not a single compassionate woman on that panel?

Oh, my. The memories, they are so warm and fuzzy. Kind of like my gigantic, stretched out and faded yoga pants.

Honestly, my family isn’t nearly as mean as those overly sensitive adolescent stories may indicate. But still, I don’t remember ever not thinking I was fat.

I remember my mom telling me I had nice legs and thinking she was crazy.I remember towering over my tiny friend, Nichole, in a three-legged race and wondering if I’d crush her if we fell.I remember doing hundreds of crunches and lunges in my bedroom after I was supposed to go to bed.And I remember not being able to shop the popular mall store, 5-7-9, because I did not, in fact, wear a size 5, 7 or 9.

I remember being fat.

The funny thing is – and I suspect I’m not alone in this – that when I look back at pictures of myself, all I can do is cringe. Because really? That was “fat”?

Oh, to be “fat” again.

It appears that at some point, I actually did lose my baby fat. Unfortunately, even without the chubbiness of my early years, the curves were still there. Meanwhile, my friends – and, of course, the popular girls I so envied – were stick thin.

I was curvy before curvy was cool.

And so the self-image issues continued. Not that things like basketball uniforms helped. (Please, God, don’t ever make me put on a pair of those ridiculously tight shorts again.) But I wish I could have seen myself for what I really was. And I wish I would have learned then how to care for this body, curves and all.

But I didn’t.

So when I started dating Mark and eating out at restaurants, things like “portion control” and “salads with the dressing on the side” didn’t even cross my mind. And when I went to college and experienced the all-you-can-eat buffet? It didn’t occur to me not to eat scrambled eggs and hashbrowns every morning for breakfast.

Even when my clothes stopped fitting and I gained the Freshman 15 30, I didn’t change my eating habits. After all, who can resist sharing a bag of tortilla chips and jar of Tostitos cheese dip with her roommate? In one sitting? At midnight?

I did lose a bit of weight before my wedding, but it didn’t last. That weight returned so fast that I still have lingerie in my closet with the tags on it. Because it didn’t fit. And yes, I realize it’s silly to keep it in my closet for 10 years. Don’t start with me.

In the decade since I got married, I have gained 80 pounds. And just so you know, saying that out loud makes me want to climb in bed, hide under the covers and never come out again.

Except to eat. Because that always makes me feel better. [Insert sarcastic font here.]

In 2002 – yes, eight years ago – I joined Weight Watchers. I have been a member six times since then.

Thanks to Weight Watchers and countless magazine articles and infomercials, I’m not nearly as ignorant naïve as I was in high school and college. I KNOW how to make good food choices. I KNOW I need to exercise regularly. I KNOW what’s healthy and what’s not. I KNOW.

It’s just a matter of DOING IT. And that is something I have failed at, big time, every time.

Not this time, though. As we kick off Losing It, I’m saying, “Yes, Grandma, I will lose my baby fat!” I will lose it when I start walking. And kickboxing. And dancing. And eating vegetables. And measuring portions. And counting points.

I will lose it.

How are you going to lose it?

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I’ll edit this later today with my percentage weight loss. I weigh in at my weekly Weight Watchers meeting over lunch, and I’m going by their scale. (Because you cannot tell me my doctor’s scale was right on Wednesday. I refuse to believe it.)

UPDATE: I did not lose. And no, I don't want to talk about it. But next week WILL be better!

How did you do? Link up below – and remember, use the permalink to your post, not the link to your blog.



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Things I Love: Gummy Vitamins

"Read your Bible and take your vitamins."

That's how my mom would end every note, every e-mail she sent when I was in college. I can't say I followed her directions every day. But the reminders didn't hurt.

And honestly, they're reminders I give myself today, when I still struggle to get up early enough to read my Bible and huge horse-pill vitamins still make me gag.

But wait! That's where that pretty picture up above comes in.

I was discussing my aversion to vitamins with my co-workers one day, explaining how I can only stand them when I take them with juice but I don't drink juice so I'm left to choke them down with water and that just doesn't work. (I know. Okay? I know.) I said, "Too bad they don't make gummy vitamins for grown-ups."

You know what I found out? They do! So I bought a bottle of gummy vitamins for this grown-up. And I haven't missed a day of vitamin-taking since.

Sadly, it's more than I can say for my Bible-reading. (Don't worry, Mom, I'm working on it. That's why I bought my One Year Bible!)

Do you take a multi-vitamin? Or drink juice in the morning?

This post will be linked to Things I Love Thursday.

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Losing It

On Monday, I said this on Twitter: “My mom said my brother's lost a bunch of weight. So I'm back on the healthy wagon today. Is that bad?”

According to my friends on Twitter, that is not bad motivation at all. As a matter of fact, two of my friends suggested we put our bloggy powers to work and start a weight loss competition.

I’m kidding. We don’t have special bloggy powers.

We are, however, holding a weight loss competition.

For the next 10 weeks, Jessie from Vanderbilt Wife, Ashleigh from Heart & Home and I are going to be making healthy choices and talking about it. And then we’re going to tell you if we’ve lost weight and how much. Kind of.

I can’t be more specific than that, because we’re each going about weight loss differently. For example, Ashleigh and Jessie are big believers in whole foods. On the other hand, I’m a fan of food that comes from a can or my freezer and gets cooked in the microwave.

But no matter how we differ in food choices, exercise plans or calorie/point/carb counts, we’re all aiming for the same thing: healthy, lasting weight loss.

And we’d like you to join us. Every Friday for the next 10 weeks, we're going to host a carnival called Losing It (and Not Just Our Sanity). I’ll tell you if I met my goals for the week and what percentage of my body weight I lost.

(Sorry, friends. I only share my actual weight with my Weight Watchers leader. And . . . strangely enough, I pay for that privilege . . .)

If you join us, you could not only lose weight, but you could GAIN a prize! Anyone who links up at least six of the ten weeks will be eligible to win a six-month subscription to The Six O'Clock Scramble (a meal planning service), a Weight Watchers pedometer, and a gift card to Dick's Sporting Goods.

The winner? The person who loses the biggest percentage of body weight!

What do you say? Are you ready to make some healthier choices over the next 10 weeks? I know I am! Here are my goals:

• Drink 10-12 cups of water a day.
• Stick to my weekly allowance of points (Weight Watchers).
• Exercise three times a week.
• Lose 20 pounds during our competition.

Who’s in?



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Jumping in

Image by ashleigh290

Most the time you can tell it's January at the gym because the place is packed. But at 6 a.m. in the deep end of the pool, I'm pretty sure I'm seeing life as usual.

And by usual, I mean the high school girls swim team practicing on one end, several old ladies in suits with skirts on the other end, and various coaches, lifeguards and random chubby men in Speedos in between.

Yes, that's right. I'm taking water aerobics.

Taking a class - especially with a friend - is actually the best way for me to get exercise in consistently. The commitment of paying for something in advance combined with the accountability of knowing someone else will be tortured showing up with me is exercise gold for me.

While I'd love to take some sort of boot camp or kickboxing class, I know better. All the commitment and accountability in the world isn't going to keep me coming back to something that makes me want to die causes major pain. (See: The 30-Day Shred.) And so, low-impact, old-lady water aerobics it is.

Thankfully, my friend Brittany is game for the early morning class that works with my schedule. If she wasn't, I'd probably still be sleeping until the sun was at least thinking about coming up on Monday and Wednesday mornings.

Last week was our first class, and it wasn't the best timing. Like most areas of the country, we have had crazy cold temperatures and large amounts of snow over the past couple of weeks. But we soldiered on.

And the class was fun! Those old ladies were barely fazed by the same workout that completely kicked my butt. But that's okay. I think a workout that I feel but can manage is just what I needed. Even if I am schooled by grandmas.

Have you ever done water aerobics? What exercise are you doing these days?

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My 2010 New Year's Resolutions

Image by katehra

It’s that time of year again, isn’t it? In the past week, I’ve read post after post about New Year’s resolutions. So of course I’m going to join the party.

Would you be surprised to know that I have a two-page typed document with my goals listed out with various strategies and tactics for achieving each one? Right. No. I know.

Don’t worry. I know your eyes are still bleeding from yesterday’s crazy long post. So I’ll keep this short and sweet. Here are my goals for 2010:

1. Read the Bible all the way through. I’ve never done this, so I finally did what I’ve said I should for the past couple of years: I bought a One Year Bible. Granted, it’s now the 8th and I’ve just gotten started. But I have gotten started.
2. Obtain and maintain a healthy weight. I started a water aerobics class on Monday, and I’m still a member of Weight Watchers. This is the year I will get healthy.
3. Improve our finances: live within a budget, save more and pay off some debt. I’ve already increased the amount automatically deposited to savings each month, and I’ve allocated extra paychecks to pay for car maintenance, gifts and vacation. Now it’s a matter of sticking to my revised monthly budget and figuring out how to pay for birthdays and Christmas.
4. Go on monthly dates with Mark. I’ve got most months mapped out. I’ve already bought concert tickets for April, and we’re hoping to take a trip to Chicago in May. Most months will be smaller affairs, though, like a movie or a trip to Target. You know how I love both of those outings!
5. Roll with the punches in our life with a toddler. In other words, potty training, moving to a big girl bed, working on our bedtime routine and possibly starting piano lessons. Yikes, that’s a lot of big stuff!

I’d also like to take a photography class, increase my blog traffic by providing better content and community, start a cooking club with my girlfriends, read some good books, stay fairly caught up on my scrapbooking and get a new job. But I’m not putting those on the main list. Short and sweet, remember?

Now, what about you? Have you blogged about your New Year’s resolutions and/or 2010 goals? I’d love to read it, so link up below!

If you aren’t going to blog about it, I hope you’ll still share your goals in the comments!



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Better than carrot sticks

Photo by nanaow2006

I have this aversion to plain, raw carrots. I chew and chew, but they never go away. Hey, you don't have to tell me that's gross. I live it. That's how much I dislike carrots.

Add a little dip (and calories) or cook them with a roast (again with the calories), and they're fine. But raw? And plain? No thanks.

Thankfully, our society is so overweight and diet-obsessed that I have lots of healthy eating options. And we talked about our favorite "diet" foods at my Weight Watchers meeting last week. It made me want to go shopping right away!

The meeting also reminded me of some of the tricks I'd forgotten to losing weight. Here are a few of the foods I rely on when I'm on program, as they call it at WW:

• Apple and cinnamon instant oatmeal
• Sugar-free hot chocolate
• Fiber One (or Great Value) granola bars
• Oroweat sandwich thins (These are new, and I highly recommend them!)
• 98% fat-free Mission tortillas
• 98% fat-free popcorn (I like kettle corn the best.)
• Light or lowfat cheese or other milk products. (I do not do fat-free milk products. Ick.)
• Reduced fat peanut butter
• Apples, bananas, strawberries and grapes
• Lots and lots of green beans

Edited to add: How could I have forgotten Laughing Cow cheese?! I love that stuff, especially with reduced fat Wheat Thins! Yum! Also, have you all discovered Ronzoni Smart Taste pasta yet? It comes in spaghetti, macaroni, penne and probably several other shapes, and looks, tastes and feels just like white pasta (because you will never convince me that the wheat stuff is good) - but it has extra fiber and other vitamins/minerals/good stuff. Check out Jill's post and this funny video about it!

What healthy (or healthier) foods do you rely on to maintain a healthy diet?

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Half full or half empty

Photo by Jenny Downing

When I was in high school, I sang a duet at our spring concert. The song was called "Heart Half Empty," and it has been stuck in my head since I started writing this post.

Anyway.

Sometimes I hear people say things that are just annoying. Things like, “I don’t have time to watch TV.” Or, “Oh, I can’t eat fast food anymore. It upsets my stomach.” Or perhaps, “I just can’t go a day without exercising. I get cranky!”

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that these things are bad or even untrue. No, they’re annoying statements because, sure, I’d love develop an aversion to fast food and television and spend more time working out. But that’s just not real life. At least, it’s not my real life.

And so I get annoyed.

But you know what I found myself thinking the other day when a co-worker mentioned that she doesn’t like water? “Really? Wow. Sometimes I crave water. I can’t get enough. I like water.”

I almost became one of those people with my annoying, self-righteous, good-habited statements.

But, just like those folks who hate fast food and love to exercise (and somehow don’t make TV watching a priority), I meant it. It’s the truth. I drink a lot of water. And I like it.

Does that make me weird? Maybe. But it's my one good habit, and besides, we all know the benefits of drinking more water: weight loss, better skin, live to 100. (Just kidding on that last one.) So perhaps I can offer some helpful hints on getting more water in your day. (More, as in six to eight cups, of course!)

• If you’re a fan of bottled water (because, yes, I realize some of you probably are not in favor of disposable plastic bottles), buy a 24-pack and keep it in your car. Then you can drink a bottle on your way to work, while running errands or on the way to drop off the kids at school.
• If you are opposed to those landfill-filling bottles, then get a good thermos. That way, you can keep your “car water” cold. And save the earth. (Serious side note: I’m all for non-disposable things. But in the interests of full disclosure, I often drink water from plastic bottles.)
• If you work at a desk – or in the kitchen or in a classroom or, you get the point – keep a cup for water there. That’s what I do – I keep a giant plastic cup at my desk at all times, refilling it a few times a day.
• If you can’t stand the flavor of water (really?), use the sugar-free mix-ins. I know Crystal Light makes lots of flavors; so does Great Value at Walmart.
• Drink with a straw. If you need to, a colorful, twisty one. I can’t promise this will make your water taste like Diet Coke, but it might making drinking it a little more fun.
• Add ice. Personally, I like cold water with no ice. But my co-worker swears that drinking water with ice speeds up your metabolism. Or at least makes the water colder.

Okay, how about you? Do you drink water? I know I have more trouble getting my water in over the weekend, when I’m on the go – or at least not at a desk all day. When do you find it harder to drink your six to eight?

Drinking water works for me. For more tips, visit We Are THAT Family.

I don’t really need help analyzing this dream.

Hay for hay fever - get it?

Last night, I dreamed about getting an allergy shot. With my group of girlfriends from high school. Except the doctor’s office was closing, because it was after 5:00. So I was out of luck. My friend, Angie, got her shots, though.

Totally random, right? Not quite.

Angie’s birthday was this week, and even though I haven’t seen her in years, it’s one of those things I haven’t forgotten.

And oh yeah, it’s allergy season. What’s that? Oh yes, some of you call this green season “Spring.” I call it Allergy Season #1. (Fall being Allergy Season #2, of course.)

So I blame the budding trees and flowering plants for my heavy lids and constant sneezing. (And by “constant,” I mean that it happens so often my co-workers don’t even bother to say “Bless you” anymore. Because, really, they have work to do.)

Of course, my condition could have something to do with the fact that my cat prefers to show her love by sleeping on my pillow. Her love…or her need for comfort. A cat’s got needs, you know.

I've tried and tried to teach her to sit like a lady.

Did I mention that the nurse in my dream doctor’s office was Susan Boyle?

Do you have allergies? What’s your favorite season? Is this the most random post I’ve ever written? (Wait, don’t answer that one.)

We got an extension.

Not the tax kind. No, our taxes are a disaster, and we may very well be in debt to Uncle Sam forever. Then again, I guess that's nothing new...

Anyway. Today at Annalyn's 18-month well-baby visit, we got an extension on her walking deadline.

At her last appointment, the doctor said not to worry about her gross motor skills - or lack of - just yet. But she said that if she wasn't walking at the next appointment (read: today), it would be time to start worrying.

Today, though, Dr. B said that because Annalyn has learned new tricks (pulling up to stand, climbing like a monkey, cruising a little bit along the couch), she's doing okay.

However, if she's not holding onto our hands and taking a few steps by next month, the doctor's calling in the big dogs. Or, at least, referring us to a physical therapist.

But for now, the kiddo is off the hook. The doctor was pleased with her verbal skills, her body part naming, and her ability to use a phone and a comb just like a big person.

And really, as she sat on the exam table in her diaper, gripping a ball point pen she dug out of my purse, posed to take notes on a stack of my business cards, I had to agree with the doctor.

That kid of mine is doing just fine.

Out of commission.

Hey all. I haven’t forgotten about you. I came home from Blissdom with a cold…or the flu…or possibly a virus…I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s no fun. And oh yeah, Annalyn has it, too. So, I’ll be back soon. Until then, please pray that I don’t literally cough up a lung. Thanks.

We get by with a little help from our friends.

My friend, Katie, is offering FREE shipping

on any Mary Kay product ordered from her site

before Friday, January 23, 11:59 p.m. CST.

Katie is one of my best friends in the whole world. We met at church in the young marrieds Sunday school class about 5 years ago. She and her husband were assigned to our small group – lucky them.

Really, it was lucky us, because we got the chance to know this fun couple and be part of their lives.

We learned why they said they were from Kansas City, but had mysterious Southern accents. We learned that they’d been married as long as we had, even though Katie was – gasp! – the same age as my little brother. (And I thought I’d gotten married young!) We learned that they had hearts for outreach and ministry and their friends and each other. We learned that they each had a great sense of humor, even on the night we all ate the worst ribs ever…thanks to some mad grilling skillz. And we learned that they struggle with some of the same issues we do – dysfunctional families, imperfect marriage, struggling finances, the works.

Most importantly, we learned that this couple is what true church family means to us. They are friends of the heart. And we love them.

They moved halfway across the country two years ago, but thanks to the wonders of this Internet, we’ve stayed in touch, e-mailing everything from casual updates and funny stories to raging vents and heartfelt prayer requests.

On Sunday, I received the worst prayer request yet. Katie’s husband has been diagnosed with cancer.

"What? You want us to pose? You think we should hug?"
Our husbands have bonded through a love of beer and sarcasm...can you tell?

My dear friend is believing God through this situation – He is stronger than any cancer! But she’s understandably concerned about many things, from finding care for her three kids (ages 1, 3 and 4) while they’re in Houston to see a specialist to the unexpected expense of all this.

For the last year, Katie has been blessed by being able to contribute to her family’s finances by selling Mary Kay. Today, she’s like many of us and reluctant to ask for help. But she has asked me to help her with this one thing. She’s asked me to share with all my friends an offer of FREE SHIPPING on any Mary Kay product ordered from her website between now and this Friday, January 23.

I don’t actually use Mary Kay products but found a hands pampering set that I bought for my mom (nothing like having Mother’s Day covered in January!). So if you think you might be able to use anything Mary Kay and you can buy it this week, please visit my friend’s site.

Bearing one another’s burdens works for me. For more posts on what’s working today, visit Rocks in My Dryer.

Have it your way?

Part of my weight loss journey relies on my ability to make different food choices. And that’s hard, after 30 glorious years of enjoying pounds of M&Ms and bags of Doritos. I mean, those were good years!

Then again, they were also years fraught with agony over shopping in the women’s section and panic over once life-threatening blood pressure.

I guess the different choices might not be so bad after all.

And really, they aren’t. Granted, forcing myself to eat more fruits and vegetables is harder than it sounds. (I’m telling you, I don’t care if carrots could somehow eliminate my blind-as-a-bat need for glasses, they would still taste gross.) But let’s be honest – I’m not going to give up good-tasting food, and I’m not going to completely revamp the way I live (or magically find three extra hours in the day to cook those healthy meals I see on TV). So I’ve got to find some compromises – different choices that fit within my life, different choices that I can stick with.

Today I’m happy to report that I have found a couple good ones. Maybe they’ll help some of you in your health goals, too. Those of you who eat out more than you should and aren’t afraid of the golden arches or flame-broiled anything.

First, the fast food winner: McDonald’s Premium Grilled Chicken Classic Sandwich. It’s 9 points (420 calories/10g fat/3g fiber), which is a lot for a sandwich but not a lot for fast food. And it’s good! So far, I’ve gotten it with the mayo, but as I progress in my different choices strategy, I’ll probably leave it off. It’s that good.

And now for the fast food loser: Burger King’s TenderGrill Chicken Sandwich. This one is 11 points (510 calories/19g fat/4g fiber), and it’s not nearly as good as McDonald’s offering. My chicken was dry and overcooked, and there’s no way I’d attempt it without some sort of sauce (you can get it with honey mustard instead of mayo, and the stats are a bit lower). I was pretty disappointed in this choice…and glad I opted for onion rings, despite the 7-point price.

Finally, the best healthier food choice I’ve made recently was at California Pizza Kitchen. I had a cup of tortilla soup, which I’d classify as okay but filling, and then I had the most delicious salad I’ve had in a long time: the BBQ Chicken Chopped Salad (I had a half salad). According to the information I could find, this perfect-sized salad was only 7 points. If they would have brought it with the dressing on the side (as I requested), it would have been even lower.

I know that many of us start new diets – or healthy lifestyle programs – in January, and some of you have mentioned being a part of that group. In your efforts to eat better, have you made any discoveries? (I know Brenda has – check out her delicious grapefruit photo!)

An apple a day...

My Granny was a hypochondriac. We used to joke that she’d had every affliction except prostate cancer, and for that, it was only a matter of time. Granny did have many genuine health problems, though, and she took so many pills she needed one of those pill boxes to separate them for each day.

I’ve worked for two health charities, hearing the stories of previously healthy people who suffered vicious attacks on their bodies by the diseases I worked to eradicate.

One of my closest friends from college was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis last year, a diagnosis made even scarier by the fact that she’s watched her dad and aunt struggle with the same disease for years.

A dear friend from high school died of colon cancer a few years ago. I had lost touch with him, but reportedly, he was diagnosed in the late spring and was gone before fall. Just that quickly.

And of course, last year, I became seriously ill as I entered my third trimester of pregnancy, spending eight days in the hospital and delivering my daughter seven weeks early.

For all these reasons and the dozens of stories I won’t tell here, I’m truly thankful for my health. I may be overweight, asthmatic and allergic to everything that grows. I may have a shoulder that throbs when under any stress and a leg that aches when the weather changes. But really, compared to the struggles that so many people face each day, these things are like a paper cut. Irritating and slightly painful, but nothing to lose sleep over.

I’m amazed at the strength and courage I’ve seen in people who face chronic or deadly illness. The most striking thing from my time with ALS patients was the unstoppable joy so many of them had. But I’ve also been reminded – each time I see someone facing pain or illness, each time I hear another story of cancer or disease – that I’m so very blessed to be healthy. I’m thankful for my health.

Today wraps up my month of thanksgiving. I could name so many other things, people, places and experiences that I’ve been blessed with, that I’m thankful for. What about you? What are you thankful for?

October 8

[Today is Photobaby's birthday,
so I'll wrap up my crazy little story for you...]

I’ll spare you the gory details, but here are a few highlights from the next several hours:

• As the nurses and doctors began rushing around my room, which was blurry and a little orange, I asked Mark if I was going to die. His reassuring response? “I don’t think so.”
• My nurse, Kristina, overheard and said, “Not on my watch.” I found out later that she stayed in my room most of the following night, just watching me breathe, making sure I was okay.
• The drugs in my system and my condition made me so loopy that while talking to my mom on the phone as they prepped me for surgery, I made a completely inappropriate comment about what “prepping for surgery” included. I can’t dwell on that because it’s so out of character for me and for my relationship with my mom that it’s just too humiliating.
• I started to cry as they gave me the epidural, but then I had to laugh at myself. I’d had too many friends get that shot to the spine in the middle of contractions to really feel sorry for myself.
• I talked to Mark, non-stop, during the entire surgery (which didn’t last long), because I was so nervous. The anesthesiologist laughed at us because we were talking so much.

And then she was born.

My beautiful, wonderful, healthy baby girl was born just after midnight on Monday, October 8. She weighed 3 lbs, 14 oz., and she was the cutest little frog I’d ever seen. I’m not kidding. She kind of reminded me of a frog.

The rest of that day is a blur. My memory includes a NICU nurse chastising me for not breastfeeding; my dear friends, Zac and Mandy, coming into my dark room and whispering their congratulations; my aunt sneaking into the room by telling the nurse she was my grandma – that really messes with your head when you’re all hopped up on drugs, let me tell you; my hand cramping from holding the painkiller button so tightly, terrified that I’d drop it in my sleep and the pain would start; stumbling through dictation for Smitty and Mark as they wrote an e-mail announcement to send to all our friends and family; asking Nurse Kristina for something to help me sleep, because every time I started to doze off, I got a little panicky, thinking I wouldn’t wake up; Mark waking me up in the middle of the night to show me the tiny red dress he’d bought our daughter during a late-night run to Walmart.

Our baby girl was born a year ago today. And she was healthy and strong and perfect. Because my condition didn’t improve immediately and was apparently more serious than they’d let on, I wasn’t allowed to leave my room until Thursday. But the NICU nurses actually brought her in to see me for a few, brief minutes on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Thursday was a big day. They removed all my wires – IV, catheter, spinal block. I took a shower. I ate a meal sitting in a chair. And I was wheeled down the hall to hold my daughter in the nursery.

My health returned slowly and I was finally released from the hospital on Saturday. Mark and I didn’t return home with a baby, though. She stayed in the hospital for another week and a half, gaining weight, learning to eat and staying warm. My feisty baby ripped out her feeding tube a full week before the nurses thought she’d be able to eat from a bottle and never looked back. After a brief stint under the blue light, she kicked the jaundice problem. And finally – just a couple days later than we’d hoped – she learned how to keep herself warm enough to come home.

October 7

[This week marks the anniversary of my pregnancy saga, so for the next few days I'm going to take some time to reflect on what happened last year and how it's affected me since.]

On Friday I wasn’t scared, but I didn’t enjoy being poked for an IV. And I didn’t like it when they started the magnesium sulfate drip. It shot through my veins, hot and sharp. And I really didn’t like the steroid shots. I knew they were necessary to help build up my baby’s lungs in case she came early, but oh my good gracious, those puppies hurt!

On Saturday I wasn’t scared. When I looked up at one point and saw my husband freaking out on too much caffeine and my parents hugging and crying, I almost laughed again. It’s not like I was unconscious – I could see them! I could see them being scared and sad.

And then the cavalry arrived – my cousins, my aunt, my brother all the way from Iowa. And they sat in my room, talking in hushed murmurs and staring. Staring at me and staring at the monitors beeping my vitals for the world to see.

On Sunday I was a little scared, because they began giving me Pitocin, a drug used to induce labor. Labor! That excruciatingly painful process I’d read about and heard my friends describe and was terrified to experience myself! But as the special, fancy consultant doctor had explained the day before, the only cure for my condition was to deliver my baby. 7 WEEKS EARLY. And the worst part in my mind? We hadn’t taken a childbirth class yet! It was still two weeks away!

I shouldn’t have worried. The magnesium (used to prevent seizures, but also often used to halt pre-term labor) overpowered the pitocin. Though my family stayed glued to the monitor that day, waiting for contractions, nothing changed. Including my frighteningly high blood pressure. So the doctors scheduled a C-section for Monday morning.

Later that evening, the magnesium began making me a little loopy. I was out of it enough that I asked my nurse and my mom to help me take a shower, since I didn’t know how long after surgery before I’d take another one. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m extremely self-conscious about my body and would never, under any other circumstances, have allowed – much less requested – someone to see me naked.

After getting me into bed that evening, my parents decided to head home, promising to be back bright and early the next morning. But shortly after that, the heartburn came back. I’d learned my lesson and this time, I told Mark to get the nurse. That nurse, Kristina, got my doctor to stay (she’d been headed home, too). And then they decided to deliver. Right then.

Mark called my parents, and when I asked him if my mom started crying, he said, “No, I did.”

And then I got scared.

October 6

This is what the seizure box looked like. But it was older,

and it had the word, "Seizure," written in block letters on the side.

[This week marks the anniversary of my pregnancy saga, so for the next few days I'm going to take some time to reflect on what happened last year and how it's affected me since.]

The on-call doctor was one I’d never seen, and when she called me back, she yelled at me. In a nutshell it went like this: “What is wrong with you? Why didn’t you call earlier? Get to the hospital now! Stat!”

Throughout my pregnancy, I’d worried about the moment I would travel to the hospital for delivery. We live about 35 minutes from the hospital, and my husband worked evenings. I just wasn’t sure who would take me in an emergency. And there I was, not going to the hospital to deliver, but still pretty sure I shouldn’t drive myself 35 minutes in traffic to the hospital.

After calling my husband and parents, they decided, due to where everyone was at the time, my parents would pick me up and Mark would meet us at the hospital. While I waited for my parents, I packed a bag with some extra clothes, a magazine for Mark and toiletries, I gave my cats extra food and water, took a shower and shaved my legs. Just in case, you know.

I checked into the hospital that night and had the painful experience of getting an IV. Painful because nobody could find a vein. I was that puffy. Not that they didn’t try. Oh, they poked and prodded my hands and arms and finally, my neck. Thanks to an hour of work from an anesthetist with steady, cold hands.

At some point that night, a nurse brought a big black case into my room labeled, “Seizures,” and placed it on the counter. Directly across from my bed. All I could do was laugh, because that was probably the least comforting thing someone could have done after telling me that my blood pressure was spiking like crazy and oh, by the way, pre-eclampsia can cause seizures and yes, even death.

Awesome.

October 5

[This week marks the anniversary of my pregnancy saga, so for the next few days I'm going to take some time to reflect on what happened last year and how it's affected me since.]

Last year on October 5, I went to the hospital and I didn’t go home for eight days. For eight long, scary, crazy days, I lived in the hospital. Here’s part of my story.

For two days I’d been on mandated bed rest – sitting on the couch, making lists and plans, and finishing projects for the job that was no longer mine. On Thursday, I started feeling some heartburn, a symptom they’d warned me about on Tuesday, a feeling I hadn’t had during my pregnancy. I wasn’t worried. After all, it was probably just the power of suggestion. And besides, my friend, Mandy, had terrible heartburn during the entirety of both her pregnancies. I could hardly complain if it started in my third trimester.

But by Thursday night, I was so uncomfortable that I couldn’t sleep. I finally fell asleep for a couple hours on the couch, but Friday morning came too quickly.

To compound my physical discomfort, Friday was the day I had to train my manager on Quark Xpress, the software I used to lay out our monthly newsletter, a project she would take over in my absence. So, sitting on my couch with my laptop, my cell phone and a program that allowed me to see her work computer screen on my home computer screen, I tried to train my 60-year-old manager on a software program.

My manager is a lovely lady. But that afternoon really tried my patience. We were on the phone – her trying to figure out which questions to ask and me watching her painstakingly move text boxes and photos into place – for over an hour. By the time we got off the phone, the heartburn was bad. And the Rolaids weren’t helping.

I complained to my husband, but he thought the same thing I feared – that I was just a big baby. That the shooting pain in my chest and side was normal heartburn that other, stronger women just deal with. He was sorry I felt bad, but he had to leave for work.

I thought about calling my doctor (they’d said if I had any of a list of symptoms – including bad heartburn – to call), but by then, it was after 5. I told myself to just suck it up and deal.

Thankfully – God and His mysterious ways – my friend, Amy, called just then to check in. When I vented to her about my heartburn and being after doctor’s hours, she reminded me that I could still call the office and the on-call doctor would call me back. I didn’t want to bother anyone, but she reminded me that this is what they’re paid for. As I thought about how much I’d already paid out of pocket for this pregnancy, I decided she was right.

So I called.