My apologies

Life has been incredibly busy as of late.  Between trying to move to a different town in a hurry with two little ones, family members’ illnesses and surgeries, my own surgery, and the day to day craziness that ensues, I haven’t had much time to sit down, collect my thoughts, and post.  When I have been able to do so, I’ve been constantly censoring myself before I even get my thoughts onto the computer screen.  Why, you may ask?  A certain reader or two has had a history of reading this blog and twisting my words to make life difficult for my husband, and thus myself.  In order to balance being able to express myself while not adding fuel to the fire that is the conflict between this couple and my husband, I’m retiring this blog, in hopes of starting something new in the future. 

I am very grateful for what few readers I did have.  I appreciate your participation and I hope you got something out of it as well.  And again, I’m very sorry.



The following piece is something I posted in another social networking site, and I was told it was fairly well-written, with encouragement to publish it here. It may have some TMI if you are squeamish about others’ bodies; consider yourself warned:

Just the other day I was encouraging a friend to better how she saw her body. Not a bad thing to do, but all the while I was thinking about my own flaws and some days how much I dislike my own body.

When I talk about hating my body most people think it is about my weight. Yes, as of yesterday I am 5’7″ and 283 pounds. While I don’t think I’m of average build (big boned and a lot of boob and muscle), I’m fat. But as long as I can remember, I’ve always been overweight, and I think I would look weird skinny. My concern for weight loss is more health-based.

I’m not asking for solutions or sympathy, I’m just getting it “out there”. Here is what I don’t like about my body:

  • My teeth. I was not blessed with straight teeth and I have had appliance after appliance, braces, retainers, surgeries, etc., and my top teeth are still not 100% straight (my bottom still have the permanent retainer keeping them straight). As a child I had more than my fair share of liquid amoxicilin, which apparently stains your teeth pretty badly, a fact my teeth show.
  • Under my arms. I have these little oddly-shaped bunches of skin clustered around there. I don’t know what they are, all I know is that my dad has them and the docs refuse to remove his. This makes me feel a little less, feminine I guess.
  • My hands. They are fat (my high school and college rings are men’s styles), they are often rough despite my attempts, and my nails are uber-fragile. It is not uncommon for me to break a nail simply by accidentally smacking my hand against a door frame. It is a struggle to keep my nails as long as they are, and rarely do they grow beyond the tip of my finger.
  • My scars. From a quick glance, there are 17 on my lower arms, 12 on my chest/stomach, and I don’t even care to know how many are on my legs. With the exception of my c-section scars and one line on my right knee from falling on broken concrete ~12 years ago, the rest of the scars are from bug bites, mainly from mosquitoes and spiders. And yes, I’ve heard the line “Then you must be really sweet”, and that has gotten so old it is ancient. I’m absolutely ashamed of my legs.
  • My feet. I hate this part of my body the most. There is something strange about me allowing a lover to do all sorts of things to my vagina before I will let him/her touch my feet. They have similar scarring as my legs, the same nail problems as my hands, and some pretty serious callous issues. It is pretty embarrassing going to a nail salon, having the gal working on your feet gather the other technicians around, chattering in Korean for everyone else to see for a good 5 minutes while looking at your feet, and then telling you she can’t work on them.

Despite all of this, there are people who have seen all of this and still find me physically attractive. I consider myself pretty lucky.

February 5, 2012 – Chaos, Birthdays, and Minor Super Bowl Victories!

It has been a week of celebration and of chaos. I will admit that I should be testing my sugar and keeping track of my food, but I haven’t.  I will also admit I’ve been a bad blogger, wife, girlfriend, friend, etc. lately due to a combination of stress and nonsense just getting in my way, especially in particular to one big thing going on this month that is the major source of my chaos.  I do apologize for all of these things, and I promise to try to make it up to you once the chaos is largely settled.  There may even be a contest on here as a result, so keep reading.

Onto things I really can talk about:

We celebrated N.’s birthday this Saturday. His fourth party was at a bowling alley, and most importantly he and his brother (and everyone else) seemed to have a blast.  Mommy? Not so much… trying to rescue G. from chasing his ball down the lane, I went after him, and we both fell.  While he only hit the floor, I took out a bumper with my legs/lower back and smacked my head against a wall (we were on an end lane), which left me with several light bruises the next day.  Just to think it doesn’t seem so long ago that he was being lifted out of me looking so confused as to what was going on, and now we’re researching schools. I am proud of how far he has gone in such a small amount of time – what 4 year old adds numbers correctly – and I love him to pieces (even when he is moody).

I also have a small Super-Bowl-related victory: I have found another diet pop I really like. In a hurry to Jim’s to watch the game with the seven of us, I grabbed diet root beer so I’d have something to drink. By the end of the night, about half of the 2-liter was gone, mainly by me, someone who is generally not a pop drinker. So yay for having more drink options!

But I better go rest this tired ol’ body before it rebels.

January 30, 2012 – Meatless Monday!

Pre-breakfast blood sugar: 183

Pre-dinner blood sugar:  227

Breakfast:  1 waffle and scrambled eggs

Lunch:  Leftover cheese pizza and oranges

Dinner:  Black bean burger with cheese, 1/2 cup macaroni and cheese, lots of stir-fry veggies

Someone in my Google+ circles shared a link to a series of photographs featuring Olympic athletes as well as their height/weight.  While the majority of them hold what most people regard as an athletic build, there are several, both men and women, whose build are more like my own.  It really is a refreshing thing to see an artistic study of the athlete to include a larger scope of what health looks like. I know I’m not in the best of health so my credibility may not hold much without a medical degree, but I do disagree with the idea of everyone having to maintain a certain weight/height ratio in order to be considered healthy.  As a child, I played several years of volleyball, basketball, track and field (shot put and discus throw), pushed kids in wheelchairs in a hurry playing baseball; as I got older (and before my back problems) I lifted heavy things/children/dogs.  I have developed some serious muscle over the years, and no healthy, non-surgical weight loss solution is going to get rid of that; I’m fairly confident that once I loose every ounce of fat I still will not meet the ideal weight according to those charts, I will still be considered overweight if not a more severe label.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I understand many of the implications of being heavy.  No other health complications, the additional weight, additional stress on the bones can weaken what holds everything together.  But take doctors, insurance companies, etc., put so much emphasis on one’s BMI, and pair that with the media and social emphasis on that number, and we’re all shocked that so many people have such bad body images of themselves, whether it is as severe as anorexia, bulimia, etc., or if it is a daily sigh of disgust when someone looks at the mirror.  We still wonder why heart disease and the like are so high – because we’re so stuck on achieving that magical number we forget to choose foods with nutrients, take time to exercise in such a way to develop a healthy habit, to take a few moments each day to love yourself and to make sure you surround yourself with emotionally-healthy social situations, as often emotional and physical health go hand-in-hand.

Health should not be about struggling to achieve numbers you may never make.  It should be about working with the body and situations you have, and feeling good about how you are maintaining yourself.

January 29, 2012

Pre-breakfast:  203

Pre-dinner:  133

Breakfast:  1 slice of French toast, eggs, sausage

Lunch:  Hot dogs

Dinner: 3 square-cut slices of pizza

Yeah, yesterday was so awful in regards to me taking care of myself I’m a little ashamed to post about it.  My day yesterday started off getting two kids and one non-morning adult up, ready, dressed, and out the door for a 10 AM appointment an hour-ish away, and kept busy until 2AM for a work party for Jeff.  Horrible, unhealthy eating (but so good), and I completely forgot to take my meds (which might not be an entirely bad thing considering the margaritas, rum & Cokes, and Jagermister shots I had at the party)

Today’s been a day of stress.  I have lots of major, major things to handle in the next few days, and the pessimistic part of me is afraid that things are going to turn out badly.  I wish I could elaborate but there are those I do not wish to know as they could complicate matters, and this being a public site I can’t really control who does/doesn’t see it.  However, I will be upfront that the most major thing will be taking a lot of my time, and I may not post as regularly as I intended to; it is related to a situation where I do not have full control over, and I really want to apologize to you all in advance for the sudden lack of postings.

So, my question to you, fair readers:  How can I make it up to you?  A contest perhaps?  If so, what should be the rules and the prizes?

January 27, 2012

Pre-breakfast sugar: 187

Pre-dinner sugar: 153

Breakfast: Cereal and yogurt

Lunch: Leftover pasta/chicken/peppers

Dinner: Cheese coneys and munchies from potluck

Guys, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m not going to write anything too interesting tonight. I am tired and have to do the figurative equivalent of herding 3 cats to be at a 10am appointment about 45 minutes away tomorrow. I’m sure after Jeff’s work’s holiday party I will have something interesting.

Love to all y’all!

January 26, 2012 – Happy 2nd Birthday Baby!

Pre-breakfast blood sugar:  156

Pre-dinner blood sugar:  ??  I totally forgot to test, but I did actually remember to take my glucometer out which I normally don’t.

Breakfast:  Red velvet pancakes (but without the icing in the recipe – still good), sausage

Lunch:  Bow tie pasta with bell peppers, sugar snap peas, and chicken

Dinner:  Boneless wings, traditional wings, side salad sans dressing, birthday cookie cake

Oh, we began, my baby boy and I.  I remember the Tuesday morning, the day before he would have been considered a full term baby, anxiously waiting to be taken back to the O.R.; needless to say, this didn’t help my high blood pressure much, even while sleeping on my left side as much as I could stand.  Anxious about the epidural, hoping they didn’t mess it up like they did last time with me – it was bad enough I was having trouble walking, as he thought my sciatic nerve was a comfy spot.  The prep was kind of a blur, and finally I got to hear your first protest as they took him away from me, despite the chatter about a 9 pound, 15.8 pound preemie, whom was nicknamed “the little big guy” by staff at the hospital.

Fast forward through these two years, and my, has he grown.  Most moments he is a great happy bundle of infectious joy in his play and interactions with others, whether it is just in the tilting back and forth as he plays on a drum or how he dances along to “Boo’s Coos”.  For a little guy who doesn’t have many words, he is certainly expressive ranging from hating foods “with his whole body” to squealing with glee over rolling toys.  He certainly has his own sense of humor, often doing things he knows he’s not supposed to do, and somehow charms his way out of it.  Most distinctively, he is incredibly passionate in what he does.  Rarely do I see him simply content; while his tantrums rival the Hulk, our home is never silent while he is awake (and sometimes when he’s asleep).

While I know there’s a lot of time for him to grow, develop, and define himself, I hope some things never change.  May he always have his sense of humor, his infectious joy, his ability to express himself, and his passion.

Happy Birthday G.Q., and thank you for being such a wonderful gift to my life.