Saturday, January 30, 2010

Day 3... mindless rambling...

So today was a pretty laid-back Saturday. Cleaning house, watching TV, cuddling with my family... but in the midst of all this, several thoughts popped into my head of which I thought, "Hm... I should blog about that."

But, as it is after 10pm and my night-time hormone meds are kickin' in, I can't seem to make any single thought, in and of itself, a complete post.

Hence, your friend and mine, the list format:

1. I think about food A LOT, and I find myself thinking of some yummy (read: fattening) dish and saying to myself, "After this three months is up, I am TOTALLY going to eat that." But today, I realized something: those fattening dishes are part of the reason I am in this mess today. Sure my hormone issues caused my body to store more fat than it should, but I was the one who put that fat in there in the first place. I need to start thinking of this change as a life-long change. Obviously, I can't eat 600 calories a day for the rest of my life, but I can start thinking of food differently... and permanently.

2. I don't really appreciate food. The foods that I think about and crave during this diet are foods that really take no skill to make. I think about boxed brownies. I think about cheese fries. I think about cereal. The thing is, those foods are absolutely no good for my body, and though I see them as a "treat," there is absolutely nothing special about them. At the beginning of this year, I committed to myself that I would try something new at every restaurant I go to. And you know what? I have had some AMAZING foods. Grilled chicken with pineapple glaze. Mashed sweet potatoes with cinnamon. A salmon Caesar salad that'll make you wanna slap your mama. THOSE are treats. THOSE are special dishes that take skill, money, and - hello! - ingredients that I can pronounce. Hence, I have decided to start thinking of those foods as a rare "treat" and the other foods as, well, the junk that they are.

3. This week, I bought all broccoli and cauliflower for our veggies because they were on sale at WalMart for $0.98 for a 2-pound bag. Savings or no savings, I will not make that mistake again. I am so. sick. of broccoli. Blech.

4. I have some clothes that were too big for me going into this diet. Should I just go ahead and get rid of them now?

5. Though it is not technically the end of the first seven days on the diet, it is the end of the calendar week. So... it's time for the big announcement:

At the end of day three...


Ahhhh yeeeeeeah.....

Friday, January 29, 2010

Day 2...

Somewhere around 1pm today, I had an epiphany.

I wasn't hungry.

I'm eating 600 calories today, and I'm not ALWAYS hungry.


Thursday, January 28, 2010

One Spoonful at a Time

I never realized how much mindless munching I do.

Pop a bag of popcorn for Chloe; grab a couple fluffy kernels for myself.

Smear some peanut butter on ritz crackers for the kids' afternoon snack; eat the remaining peanut butter off the spoon.

Open a cup of mandarin oranges in light syrup; drink the "juice" so it won't spill.

A peppermint candy here; a little piece of cookie there.

Twice today I had to spit food out of my mouth that I had - literally - mindlessly put in there.

It's so easy to just pop a small morsel of calorie-packed food into my mouth without giving it a second thought.

Is it any wonder that, when I add up my calories at the end of the day, I have no idea why I'm not in better shape than I am?

It hit me like a swiss cake roll today as I tried to reverse-swallow the "light syrup" that was sailing down my throat. I am probably "forgetting" hundreds of calories a day because I'm eating them one small bite, one convenient sip, one careless gulp at a time.

Day 1. Lesson learned.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

On the eve of the day...

25 months ago, a nurse told me that I should see a specialist about my weight and my "female" issues...

19 months ago, I finally did it...

18 months ago, I started on my first month of treatment...

17 months ago, I weighed in 19 pounds less than I had one month prior...

16 months and 27 days ago, I found out I was pregnant...

For seventeen months, I have patiently waited for this night.

I waited through nine months of pregnancy...

I waited through 11 months in Korea...

I waited through the holidays and through my family's weekend in the cabin (which, inevitably, focuses around food)...

And here I am, on the eve of the big day... the day when I start, once again, on my 600-calorie-a-day diet.

The challenge: 600 calories a day for 20 days; then 800 calories a day for 70 more days (under doctor's supervision, and with plenty of supplements and drugs).

I went to the store and stocked my fridge with fruits, vegetables, and boneless skinless chicken breasts...

I ate the boat-loads of fat I was instructed to eat the day before...

I had a "last meal" with my friend Christan...

So that tomorrow... tomorrow I will begin my journey to better health, regulated hormones, and (I hope) extreme weight-loss.

As an ode to what I hope will be this new phase of life, I am setting forth some new challenges:

1. I will eat only 600 calories a day for 20 days.

2. I will not cheat - not one time; not one calorie.

3. I will blog every day for the next 20 days (why are you snickering?)

4. I will report my results at the end of every week (no, I won't tell my weight. are you nuts?)

5. I will not get pregnant.

Now, these are not promises from my computer to yours. These are challenges that I have set for myself. They are goals. They are plans. They are only as infallible as the person who is attempting them.

But, y'all, I feel like this is my last shot.

I know that sounds dramatic. I know it sounds hyperbolic (how's that for a fi'ty-cent word?). But it's really how I feel.

Everything is lined up. My husband and best friend are doing the diet with me and in support of me (with a few more calories thrown in for good measure because, you know, they're not crazy). My parents are blessing me with "free" treatment from my doctor.

My life is in order.

I am not pregnant.

I am not sick.

I am not on the other side of the world.

This times is all set up for my success, if I will only take advantage of it.

So there it is, y'all. That's what's up in my life. This is the big change that's (hopefully) coming.

It's good, y'all. It's reeeeeal good.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Too much or Too Little

So, I may or may not have mentioned that, upon our arrival in the states, I started a new job.

It's full time. My kids come with me. I feel as if I'm using my strengths to make a difference. It's all pretty awesome.

But I don't want to talk about the job... I want to talk about me (as all decent narcissistic bloggers should).

The problem with me in this new job is, well, I'm rather stressed. And when I say rather, I mean super-freakin' terribly stressed. And when I say stressed, I mean come home in tears, wonder if I made the right choice stressed. And the thing is, in the midst of all this new and all this stress and all this work...I forgot...

...I forgot that I don't like the person that I am under stress.
...I forgot that sometimes I get tunnel vision and prioritize finished products over people.
...I forgot that I have a hard time leaving work at work.
...I forgot that making the switch from "boss" at work and "wife" at home is not so easy for me.
...I forgot that sometimes I am too much for people.
...I forgot that sheer willpower isn't always enough.
...I forgot that I am not superwoman.

I forgot all those things... until this week.

Then, like a flood of stank-scented reality, I remembered: I really need my friend Jesus.

Because when all the laundry is completed and the kids are bathed, when dinner is on the table and I am at peace, when life is easy and everything is in place, I forget... I forget that I need Him... I forget that, without Him, I am a spiteful, ugly, mean, conceited, self-absorbed sinner.

And when things get tough... and when I forget that I need Him... I start to think that this is who I am. I'm bitter. I'm incapable of handling difficulties. I'm easily angered. I'm difficult to deal with. This is who I am.

So... tonight... as He gently reminds me that, in Him, I am beautiful, and patient, and kind, and tenderhearted, and slow to anger... as He shows me once again that I am only and truly who He tells me I am... I go to sleep with a different view of tomorrow.

In Him, I am bold yet gentle.
In Him, I am strong yet meek.
In Him, I am neither too much nor too little.
In Him, I am called for such a time as this.

Lord, help me remember who YOU say that I am.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Gonna Write a Letter (GWL): To My Alabama Angel

It's been a long time coming, but here is the first installment of Gonna Write a Letter. Hip Hip Hooray!!!!!!!! Woo Hooooo!!! and Yippeeee!!!!

So, without further ado, a letter:

Dear Alabama Angel,

You will forever hold a very special, warm place in my heart. I wish I knew your real name so I could send this letter to your supervisor because, if it were up to me, you would be the most important, top, head, boss of all the other flight attendants at Delta airlines. I can only assume you are from Alabama because of the way your eyes lit up when you talked about going to the Auburn games. And I call you "Angel" because, well, you looked over me and my girls, protected us, comforted us, and cared for us during the entire 12 hour flight from Tokyo to Atlanta.

While the other flight attendants made me feel like a nuisance and inconvenience at best, you went out of your way to let me know that you were on my side, fighting (or flighting, tee hee) beside me.

You will never know what it meant to my culture-shocked mommy's heart to have an American coo over my baby and wink at my preschooler. You never hesitated to help me heat up a bottle or let me go to the bathroom.

Oh, my dear Alabama Angel, the story you told me after the incident about your baby -- it still makes chuckle to myself when I think about the Indian man sitting in front of you on that plane saying "What is that smell? What is that smell?" after you baby had spit up for the 100th time.

I still tear up a little bit when I think about you telling me that story.

You were so warm. So kind. So understanding after everything happened. You were the only. person. who saw the incident from my point of view - a young mom with two small children traveling alone... whose baby had just spit up all over a stranger.

My dear, dear, dear Alabama Angel. I am forever grateful for your kindness and empathy during that flight, and I pray that God will return the blessing to you one thousand fold.

Blessings and prayers and turbulent-free flights,

The Quote That Started It All...

I myself have twelve hats, each one representing a different personality. Why be just yourself? - Margaret Atwood