weirdness

When I went to Tracy’s over spring break the week of April 5th I came home at 141.5 pounds. I had exercised and was careful about what I put in my mouth. I was totally conscious and conscientious. Some time during the following week I gained six pounds! In a two-day period I somehow gave myself permission to eat like a maniac and temporarily forget about everything that’s important to me in order to be physically healthy.

This pattern of reaching a goal only to destroy it a short while later is making me crazy! I admit I’m totally nuts over this whole thing. I’m obsessive and grumpy and agitated and consumed!

I can feel wonderful about myself and my life when I weigh 140-141.

When I start to inch up a little I start to panic and get frustrated and that makes, lets, causes me to eat even more unhealthy or, more commonly, too much food. Before I know it I’m struggling at 145 or 147 and I become emotionally exhausted, angry, uncommitted, disappointed and discouraged.

When am I going to figure out that I’m more than a number? When can I say to myself that I am worthy of love and appreciation no matter what the scale says? I am valuable because I know who I am. I know I’m so much more than my weight. My value is not fluctuating with my size.

I’m left wondering, really pleading to know and understand, is it like this for anyone else? Does anyone else in the entire world feel like such a totally and complete failure in every part of their life just because of ten pounds or twenty? I see people everywhere I go that don’t seem to be crazed with self-doubt and even self-hatred just because they are in a, say, size 16 or 18.

What is this really about?

Today I’m at 141. I love myself. I feel like a winner. I feel like a super-hero, and yet I’m far from it. Why is everything inside of me telling me I’m great?

Long story short, I taught in Relief Society today. I prepared thoroughly and made visual aids. I took darling crafts displaying LOVE and HOME and FAMILY in coordinating fashion. The little runner was the perfect color. I had practiced my lessons and assigned parts to sisters to contribute. I had arranged for two sweet Primary girls to sing a song in the lesson, arranged for an accompanist. Everything was perfect. I loaded the car and attempted to pray on the way, asking for extra help and care and guidance.

When I got to the church and was getting my things out of the car, a huge wind came up and blew my lesson and papers across the parking lot. My carefully done hair was suddenly a mop. My new skirt was up around my shoulders and while I tried to hold it down as the missionaries came out of the church, I dropped my cute new craft. The parts I had copied and fixed for others to read were never to be seen again. With help I got into the door and hurried into a little classroom and cried and prayed.

The lesson did go OK. I had many compliments and comments.

But wow. Was I ever humbled. I realized over and over during the lesson and the two later meetings that it didn’t matter a w.h.i.t what I wore or looked like or weighted! No one cared that I was 141 this morning. No one mentioned it. No one said I looked fabulous! No one said I looked anything! No one but me is distracted and crippled, demented, unhinged, and disabled, really, by my weight.

Oh my good heck. I have got to get to the core of this weirdness.

What does it mean? When did it start? How do I go anywhere from here? How do I get to Normal? How do I hurry up and figure this out so that I can live my life? Why is this a struggle? Why is it even an issue in my life? Why is it becoming a bigger issue?

Searching for answers. If you’re there, God, please write back.

cancer

I’ve thought so much about my sister this past week. She finally said the C word. Before she was saying the T word and so I went with the T word. I didn’t know she had the C word.

Cancer scares me to death. I’ve thought philosophically about it many times. I’ve thought two things:

1.  Life causes Cancer

2.  We all have cancer, it’s just a matter of time.

The first close person I remember was my Dad. He had skin cancer when I was young and then, later, prostrate. I remember him joking about the size of his shrunken pe***.  He said with all the female hormones he had to take he couldn’t even p** in a cup. I surely had no idea what he was talking about! I was so embarrassed. Next was brother-in-law, John, then Mel, John D, Rick, Kevin, and now my sister.

I’m scared. Scared for her. Scared for me.

I have so many friends, too, who have fought this battle. Pat, Teena, Patty, Charlene, Anna, Dave, Tam. But now when I see the list. They are still here, living normal lives, leading normal lives.

That’s encouraging. That’s wonderful.

Mikelle asked me what she could do to not get cancer. I tried to tell her about broccoli and cauliflower. I’ve heard they are the body’s broom, sweeping out cancer-causing problems. I told her what I know about sugar, that it “feeds” cancer. But I realized, I honestly don’t know. Gary Poore’s wife, Karon, died of lung cancer and has never smoked a cigarette in her life!

It’s hideous!

Most of my prayers right now are for Louise. As I posted way back on November 8th, #22.  I give most of the credit to my sister, Louise, that I grew up safe and almost sane. She took care of me most of my young life! She’s a great example to me. She has been the rock in our family. She’s worked hard her whole life and given, given, given. Her own family [children and grandchildren . . . and great grandchildren!]  has been blessed by her devotion, her faith, and her generosity.

Love you sister! Take care. Blessings. Prayers!

family letter

Last July 1, Scott initiated a family letter that would help us to keep up with each other. He emailed it to the other five of us. We all read and replied in kind. It’s been a great project. Call it Family History. Call it Catching Up. Call it Mom’s favorite part of the whole month!

Here’s how it started:

I have been thinking about doing a monthly letter to everyone for a long time now and I guess mom’s blog finally convinced me to do it. I remember getting something similar from Louise from everyone while I was in college but that was all hand written and mailed, I think email will be easier. Also I just want our family, mom and the 5 kids to participate. I hope everyone will join me and write maybe starting the end of July. I think this might be a good way to stay close and share upcoming plans. If no one else wants to join in then at least you will get a letter from me once a month.

I have loved every letter! I’ve loved every word. I look forward to the end of each month, knowing I will get at least two or three family emails from those I love the very most. For the past eight months I’ve saved each one in a special folder on my desktop and have been able to look back at them occasionally.

Just want to thank my children for participating in this venture and encourage you to continue to take the time to write to “us.” Someday I’ll print all of them and put them in a binder for us to reminisce with in our old age.

I love each of you so much
Love Mom!

geese

Fabulous weekend! The moon is be-u-tiful! I loved it on Friday when it was at the same point in the eastern horizon as was the sun in the western. Both were up about one third of the sky’s expanse. This morning when I went to work at 5 am it looks almost full and lit the sky enough that I could walk without the porch light.

Healthy food for three days! I feel cleaned out and fresh. I feel energized and have already done 120 arm reps and 120 various crunch-type abs. I’ve got water and vitamins sitting out and I brought my fave yogurt, peaches and raspberries.

I feel so, so good.

Can’t explain it [You've got some splainin' to do, Lucy!] [from the old I Love Lucy Show, in case you're born after 1975.] All I know is I’m going to take full advantage of the wonderment and excitement that’s all around and treat myself accordingly. No garbage, no sugar, nothing white — I feel strong and motivated. [we'll see.]

I finished two crafts and got a great start on four others. I love love love the frames hubby made for me Saturday and have them all painted and ready to finish. I feel a creative streak coming on and it’s as fun as having a baby!

Weight? Not where I thought it might be this morning. 145.5. But I’m not devastated. I’m optimistic and encouraged and hopeful and ready.

Ahh, hear the Canadian geese overhead? Love it! They’ve got what I want for myself. Direction, freedom, fresh air and sunshine. Togetherness, commitment, travel, Spring. They know when to push themselves and when to take a break. They only eat enough for the journey and work it off every day. They talk to each other and laugh! They inspire.

OK, pretty corny. I’m loving this feeling.

deodorant, combs and great harvest

I notice when I go to Tracy’s or Mikelle’s we have so many of the same products and brands. For instance, we all buy the same deodorant. We have the same [and I mean the very same] combs. Tracy and I buy them at WINCO and Mikelle just takes mine. We have the same hair spray and lotion and lipstick and eye shadow. Mikelle and I have the same toothpaste. No one has the same toothpaste as Tracy. Hers is licorice or something like that — some really odd brand she gets from the co-op. We all use Listerine. Mikelle and I use Tide [or Western Family] and Downy. We often buy the same cereal and the same crackers. Tracy and I get our grains from Kitchen Kneads. We have made the same ‘homemade’ laundry soap. We like the same Daisy brand sour cream. Mikelle and I like the same yogurt. We all like Great Harvest. We all like Coldstone.

Tracy and I like to shop at Eddie Bauer. We also like Christopher and Banks. We both have Teva and Keen and Dansko shoes. Mikelle cuts our hair and and highlights it and waxes our brows. Tracy’s and my web site are similar. Mikelle and I have a pair of the same exact black shoes from Dillards. Mikelle and Tracy have sage, red and black in their homes. I’m slowing heading in that direction. All three of us have the very same little accent tables in our homes. We have exactly the very same calendars!

It’s comforting to me, as a mother, to have these similarities in our lives. I’m sure it’s the same all over the world — daughters grow up and move away, but keep little things in common with their moms.

Little tiny [probably silly] special connections I cherish.

that’s 1-800-drlaura

Ok. Truth Tube.

I officially will have to lie about my weight or not post it at all.

The only good thing I’ve managed is I shopped yesterday and bought fruits and veggies, yogurt, frozen fruit bars, whole wheat and spinach wraps, 1% milk, Fiber One cereal, Great Harvest honey whole wheat bread [oops, and a raspberry/white chocolate chip scone] eggs, and low-fat string cheese so it would appear I’m making good food choices — but, um, yah, there’s a big struggle going on [again!]

It’s Saturday morning and I have no excuses. No stress, no work. And I can make it through the day without blowing it — if I stay focused.

Yesterday on my little ‘craft run’ to Ogden [Quilted Bear, Home Depot, Michael's, Robert's, Lowe's -- yes I drove 120 miles to Ogden to buy the letter 'R' to match some other wood letters I bought in SLC last week] — so on my trip — I made a mental list of good or healthy things I had done for myself. I thought If I can do 5.five.5 a day, that would be good, wouldn’t it? [Ten would be better!] Surely that would make a difference in how I eat or treat myself. So I started ticking them off:

1. ate an 2 oranges
2. ate three hard boiled eggs
3. wore a cute outfit, took extra time getting ready for work
4. went to Ogden/started a craft project — developing/sharing talents
5. bought healthy food

I listened to Dr. Laura all the way. A caller called in about her weight and Dr. Laura gave it to her about being weak, making excuses and being bored. It really hit me where I live [and where I eat!] Dr. Laura said discipline gets boring. The little kid in us wants to revert back to eating junk and being careless with our health and being spoiled and self-centered. Instead we have to do the opposite. We have to think clearly and logically about what we eat and how we move. Sure we want to eat a slice of cake or a peanut and butter and jam sandwich or a hot fudge — all those comfort foods that made us feel like our Mom loved and adored us when we were six. But we are the Mom now. We are our own Mom so we need to [give ourselves love and protection] extend to ourselves that same feeling of love and adoration that we felt at age six. Only now, we need to feed ourselves steamed broccoli and braised salmon and pomegranates and Greek yogurt and spinach and whole grains and walnuts and one piece of dark, dark cacao. That’s what someone eats when they love themselves!

OK, Dr. Laura. I’m so ready to have a good day. I’m so ready to see those numbers go down.

[Trying very hard to be honest, although I can hardly stand it today! But I'm going to camouflage it so only I will know how far I've failed this week.]

[okreadyi'mbackuptoonehundredyikesandyukfortyickysixpoundsandahalf!]

S.i.g.h.

give it up mom

I am half way through the day and hopefully got that out of my system. With some encouragement from my eldest, I’m going to move on and try to not dwell on it so much. He said “I like it when you focus on positive lists, your grandchildren, Green River Lakes, Sunday school lessons, memories of Grandma, realizations about life, lessons learned, etc.” [I like that better, too.] “Give it up mom. Do your best and that’s it. You are active and you exercise when you can. You eat good most days. Maybe only weigh one a week. This day-to-day thing dominates your life and is making you very unhappy. Have a good day. I would love to read tomorrow about your ten favorite memories of your kids and grand kids.”

[There's plenty of good things I could write about them! Lot's of memories and favorite times. What Mom and Grandmom wouldn't be able to fill up a page with that kind of inspiration?]

I definitely love it when granddaughter Annes calls me. I can only understand a few words out of each sentence. If Tracy hadn’t told me her new nickname was Spider, I wouldn’t have known. I love walking through the halls at work while carpet sweeping and singing “The Teensy Weensy Spider” with this cute thing! I get lots of looks from the classrooms.

I remember when Stephen was born. It was a scary time because he stopped breathing twice. The cord was wrapped around his neck, not once, but twice. I remember thinking ohmygoodness this baby I’ve waited ten years for needs to breath! A few months later he nearly drown in the bathtub — but since those two early incidents he has been strong and huge [6'4"] and darling and handsome and he’s breathing well on his own now. I’m so glad to see him happier than he has been for a while. He’s learning how to build  homes and to work hard and to be on his own.

I remember one day when he was riding his dirt bike he was attempting a wheelie and somehow skidded on his knees for a while [until he could stop his bike] and took most of the skin off both of them. When he came in the house pouring blood and crying and was scared to death the first thing he said was, “Mom, I’m so sorry. I ruined my pants.” He apparently hadn’t seen his knees yet.

When Andie was a baby she was famous for being able to turn her bink upside down in a split nano second. Everyone [for miles around] would come by to see her do this. They’d all line up, purposfully put the binkie in upside down, and she’d twist it around with her little tongue and suck. We’d turn it again and again and again, and she’d turn it back. We’d all laugh until we cried. It was so stinking cute!

A favorite memory of my mother is that she used to let me get away with sleeping under the table on the pushed-in kitchen chairs. After lunch she sent us upstairs for naps but I would usually sneak back down and try to hide. She busied herself with lunch clean up and would talk as though no one were there and said, “Those good little children all asleep in their beds…” while she knew I was under the table as she swept. I always loved her for letting me do that while all the other kids were upstairs.

An odd memory at GRL was when we were paddling to the upper meadow while everyone else hiked up for a picnic. Mom and I [because she couldn't walk that far and I was preggers] were in the boat with Alice’s brothers and there were deer or elk swimming in the water right beside us.

OK, truly, I am feeling more balanced and not so focused on things that will never matter in a few days.

conundrum

Hey. This is so good! I quick stir fried onions, celery, mushrooms and green peppers. Squirted them with fresh orange juice. Added a can of black beans. Tossed it all into a whole wheat tortilla topped with some low fat cottage cheese and a handful of walnuts. The walnuts are new to this combination, and so fun and delish. So crunchy!

As I typed this Hubby yelled down to me, “What’s for dinner?” and when I told him he said he was tired of having to choose  between TV dinners or health food.

I had already cooked deep fried French toast and cheesy scrambled eggs for him for breakfast, so yah, I guess it’s TV dinners for him.

Sorry. I just can’t do both. I can’t take care of me and him at the same time.

annoying

I think the most annoying thing I’m going through right now is forgetting. I always knew it would become a problem when I was older. But I thought older older! But come to think of it, I remember my mother complaining about her memory [or lack of it] starting when she was around fifty. I distinctly remember the day she turned. We were going up through the underpass in Evanston and I said in all of my seventeen-year-old wisdom, “Wow, you’re half a century.”

She would laugh about forgetting where she left her glasses, or the car keys or a book she was in the middle of. She would forget her friend’s name or which kid she needed to pick up from which event or practice. [Or she'd forget us all together and we'd have to catch a ride.] She’d laugh and her belly would jiggle and a tear would escape from her right eye. And we’d say, “Oh Mom, don’t worry about it. We love you just the way you are.” She’d call us to remember the family temple day only to find out she had called the week before. Many years later when we’d watch Jeopardy with her we’d laugh because she’d answer every question a split second after the contestants answered correctly. She’d repeat herself several times a day and we’d kindly say, “Yah, I remember you told me that,” and she’d be embarrassed and say “I did? I don’t remember telling you that! [She'd laugh] I guess I forgot.”

I have become my very own mother.

When I started becoming forgetful she would always try to make it easier for me. She would say sweet things like, “You know how a computer gets full. Well you are the same way. You are so smart your brain is full and over flowing. Sometimes it’s hard to find space for even one more important thing. Don’t worry. You’ll de-frag and find room for it soon enough.” So sweet. Nothing like what I was saying to myself: “You forgetful moron!”

The thing that drives me nuts the most is when I think I have forgotten something and it turns out that I really haven’t. Say I need to change the paper towel roll in the girls commons restroom. I head in there with my screw driver [because the closure broke and I'm too cheap to replace a perfectly good paper towel dispenser when it has year's of good left in it . . . when I can just put in a nice long screw!] and unscrew the whole contraption only to find out [and aha! remember] I did that about an hour ago! Or I run downstairs to fluff up the whites in the dryer and when I go to get them ten minutes later I open the door and realize I already folded that batch and put them away yesterday.

I hate when I get in the car and head somewhere only to find out that I have forgotten where I’m going. One day I thought, OK, I’ll just keep driving and I’m sure I’ll remember somewhere along the way. After driving for about five minutes and not remembering, I went back to the high school and back to work. A few minutes later I remembered I needed to get my scraper out of the car and that’s why I went out there in the first place.

I especially hate doing stuff like this when someone else is around. Most of my work day is choreographed to be by myself. Sure there are students and secretaries, teachers, and aids all over the place but I don’t have to interact with them if I choose. Or if I do, it can be on a completely superficial bases. I can go about my day cleaning up, getting ready for assemblies, getting the mail and freight, setting up for lunch, etc, with a minimum of actual deep conversation. Oh I have conversations but I don’t have to divulge [and most co-workers don't notice] that I just forgot what the heck I was in the middle of doing.

To get by I make lists. I make up a little song with things in alphabetical [of course] order: mop bucket, rags, toilet paper, window spray. Or I’ll use mnemonics. Or acronyms. I do sudoku puzzles every single day to exercise my cerebral muscles.

I don’t remember why I started this post, but I do realize I’m at the end of it.

So, I’m heading to the sudoku book.

Let’s see now. Breakfast, exercise, shower, vitamins.

Week’s End

This morning I drove from Logan to Lyman at 7:30 a.m. I wanted to get home in time for the meetings in my own ward. I’ve learned I love my ward, my people, my bishopric, my bench. I love my neighbors, my friends, my sisters, my gospel doctrine teacher.

I could have stayed in Logan. I could have worn something of Mikelle’s and been just fine. But I wanted to be in my ward.

This comes as a surprise to me because just a few weeks ago I wanted to be anywhere BUT my ward!. I was still frustrated with someone and wasn’t comfortable seeing her on Sundays.[I'm all over that, finally.] For four weeks I attended the two other wards in my building. I wanted it to be the same — after all, it’s not like I was staying home on the Sabbath; I was attending!

But it wasn’t the same! I was in the same building. I was with people I have known for the past thirty years. People I love and admire. People I have connections with in other areas of my life. People I work with or see several times a week. But it wasn’t my ward.

This morning everything was back to normal. A dear friend who gave me a big hug last week was there. My friend Teri and her two daughters sat on my row. Several friends asked about hubby and his knee replacement, all offering help, meals and support. A new sister in the ward taught the lesson and I’m so glad I didn’t miss it. She’s a phenomenal teacher! A visitor cried as she poured out her heart and thoughts about stay-at-home mothers who have so much to give and contribute to society. She touched us all. The music was wonderful! Two darling little sisters, age 4 and 7, sang a Primary song ["I Lived in Heaven a Long Time Ago, It Is True"] during our Relief Society lesson. We had a great discussion about Abraham and the Abrahamic Covenant in Sunday School class. The Westons’ spoke in Sacrament meeting about having a good foundation in our lives, in our families.

It was an extraordinary day.

I’m sure most people feel the same way. I’m sure they have important, supportive, special, uplifting connections with others that are monumental in their lives. I’m sure they have a network of sisterhood, devotion, love and friendship. I’ve always known I had it.

I just didn’t realize how significant it was in my own life.

:]