Surviving the Fourth

In a cruel twist of fate, I was scheduled for my monthly check in/weigh-in with my doctor July 7 -- yes, right after Independence Day weekend. That meant dealing with not one but two picnics laden with greasy burgers and hot dogs, mayo-laden salads and dips, and don't forget the cookies, pies and other desserts.

At first I was filled with dread; then, as the weekend approached I dealt with a big case of anxiety and fear of failure. But I sat with those feelings and did my best to use the cognitive behavioral skills I've tried to pick up along the way. The old belief was that I HAD to do not eat anything, or else I was a failure, loser, etc. And since that was impossible, why not just go "whole hog," so to speak, eat everything in sight, and just go to the doctor on Tuesday feeling miserable, embarrassed, ashamed, etc. Instead, I thought to myself, "I PREFER to eat intuitively this weekend: eat when I'm hungry, eat food I like and eat it until I'm satisfied. If I slip up a little, whether it's eating when I'm not that hungry, or eating past the point of satisfaction, there is no shame in that and it doesn't change my worth as a person."

I think it helped that both picnics were not in my home. Not only did I not have all the stress of getting the house ready for company, but we only had to make a few things and we weren't left with a pile of food when everyone left.

The first picnic was at my uncle's house, and he lives 2.5 hours away. We went there for a change, since we rarely get to see this uncle, his wife, his four kids and their families. There was lots of catching up with each other and re-connecting, plus paying lots of attention to our two-year old cousin who always steals the show, so food wasn't the end-all be-all that day. I sampled everything I wanted to, sometimes only a tiny bite, but that was enough to keep the deprivation monster at bay. I did make an effort to make some healthy choices -- I skipped the bread on my burger, and when I had the urge for snacking, I focused on the fresh fruit and vegetables that were in great supply and tasted wonderful -- and when I wanted something not-so-healthy, I made the serving small and took lots of time savoring it.

I did have a moment that evening that could have led to disaster. My husband thinks it's an atrocity if we don't see fireworks up close and personal on the Fourth of July, so when we got home (at 9 p.m.) we went directly to the fireworks display in a nearby town to watch them with his parents, his brother and his wife. I didn't really want to go -- we had been on the road since 9 a.m. and I was feeling tired and drained. Not to mention the fact that I'm just not that crazy about fireworks. Sure, they can be beautiful, but my husband and his family aren't content unless they're sitting directly underneath them. For me, it's too loud, too bright, and fighting with the traffic when it's over is a nightmare. And that's exactly what happened. I spent most of the presentation with my fingers in my ears -- it was so loud you could feel the booming in your chest cavity -- and half the time shielding my eyes from the ultra-bright flashes. When it was over my mother-in-law asked me if I liked it, and I decided not to hold any punches, replying, "Honestly, I think I like them less and less every year." And to make the evening complete, we got stuck in a horrible traffic jam, and it took us at least 40 minutes to get home, when it normally only takes 10-12.

By the time we got home I was so put out with myself for being Miss Nice and agreeing to go when I really didn't want to that I found myself wanting to gobble down the cookies I had saved from the picnic. But I took that crucial moment to gauge my level of true hunger, and I realized I would only be eating out of anger and frustration, and what I really needed was sleep. So I did.

The next day came picnic #2, which I knew would be the hardest one to survive. This was at my brother- and sister-in-law's house, which has been an infamous location for some historic binge eating in the past. This was my husband's family's picnic, and they are well known for making five times as much food as we really need and all of it as unhealthy as possible, so there were plenty of overeating opportunities. And there really wasn't going to be anything else to do all day except sit around, talk and eat, which is always a dangerous situation for me.

Perhaps the success of the previous day carried over and gave me enough confidence in myself to stay the IE course. I stuck to the same game plan as picnic #1, except for some pre-planning on my part: I brought along a bunch of fresh fruit I had in my refrigerator and used that for my snacking. It was definitely a life saver, because otherwise I would have had very few healthy options. And because they were my favorites -- strawberries and blueberries -- I didn't feel deprived at all.

So, here we are on Tuesday, ready to walk into the doctor's office knowing I was successful in my attempts to be a normal eater. I wasn't a "perfect" eater, I didn't count a single calorie, but I used my wisdom and common sense and felt good about it. I can't guarantee I lost a lot of weight, but I'm sure I didn't gain any. And that's a huge accomplishment for me.

Ten Years Gone

Ten years ago today, in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, I participated in a Giving and Receiving Ceremony that made me the mother of a precious little girl. In a way it seems like eons ago, yet I can still remember the excitement, nervousness and major jet lag I was experiencing. My life was changing forever, and while I was thrilled about it, it was a little frightening, too, because I was now responsible for this child's well being.

That was abundantly clear 10 years later -- last night, to be exact -- when I found myself riding in an ambulance, looking down at this same child strapped down and immobilized as we headed to the ER. She landed wrong during gymnastics practice (doing a back tuck, if any of you know what that is!) and hyper-extended her neck. Even though she was moving all her extremities, her coach and I decided calling 911 would be the wise thing to do, just in case there was something wrong that we couldn't detect.

So we spent two hours in the ER, most of that waiting for the results of the CAT Scan. I'm kind of amazed at how well I took the whole evening in stride. Maybe it was shock, denial or disassociation, but I didn't freak out, I didn't cry, and I wasn't overcome with worst-case scenarios. In fact, she and I were acting like two big goofballs and giggling ourselves silly trying to kill time until we got the scan results.

We were very fortunate that there was no serious damage. She's sore today and staying home with Daddy (who has paid family sick leave) while I try to finish up my work before the holiday weekend. I think the potential seriousness of the event is hitting me more today, now that it's over and I'm working on very little sleep. It could have been a catastrophe, but the fates smiled upon us and let her walk out of there -- and craving french fries, to boot!

I'm going to try to get out of here early today and go home to my family, maybe get a nap, and be grateful that we're all healthy and together.

Here We Go Again

On Monday my dear husband started his low carbohydrate diet. He got this plan from some doctor or hospital back in the Atkins/South Beach heyday and lost a considerable amount of weight on it the first time he did it.

My sweetheart always tells everyone how well this diet works, and I always have to bite my tongue. Okay, in theory, the diet is supposed to work because by drastically reducing carbs and eating more protein and fat, our bodies are supposed to naturally lose by burning stored body fat more efficiently. But let's face it: any diet that reduces calories will work, but how effective is it when you hate doing it, and once you quit doing it, you gain all if not most of the weight back that you've lost. By Monday night my husband was already craving carbs, so I'm sitting back and waiting to see what happens.

Now, don't think I'm not being a supportive wife. I went grocery shopping last night and got him supplies for his diet -- green veggies and full-fat salad dressing, meats and cheeses, and nuts for snacks. But at the same time, I have a daughter who is in top physical condition from competitive gymnastics and is what I consider a normal eater. She needs a well-balanced diet for her three-hour gymnastic practices, and an essential part of that is carbohydrates. The trick with her is steering her towards healthier carbs. While her adoration of white rice knows no bounds, she has no problem with brown rice and will also eat other grains like quinoa. She also really loves beans, especially Lima beans. So I need to make sure she's getting that part of the food pyramid while her father is abstaining.

As for me, I'm watching myself for signs of "second-hand deprivation." In the past, whenever my husband went on one of his diets, I always seemed to do my worst with my eating. It was as if I was driven to overeat in rebellion of his restricting. This was really frustrating and confusing to me, because one would think it would be easier to be careful with my eating when the person I lived with was doing it, too. But I've realized that just witnessing and being around his dieting would set off the "feast or famine" response in the caveman recesses of my brain.

In fact, last night as I was wandering through the grocery store, I found myself on the hunt for something super carby to chow down on for an evening snack -- my 21st century version of the Woolly Mammoth hunt, I guess. But fortunately, something from all my IE work must be sticking, because nothing I saw appealed to me, and I've come to a place in my eating where I won't just buy any old junk to cram in my pie hole. If I'm going to eat it, I have to really love it. And nothing in the store reached those qualifications. The best thing was, instead of feeling bummed about not finding anything, it actually felt very empowering.

After my daughter got out of gymnastics she was starving (as usual), and her new fixation is Dairy Queen. She wants to go there all the time, and of course I usually get something, too. I've been trying various things, and I've realized that the size of the treat keeps getting smaller and smaller. Now I know a Buster Bar is NOT a low calorie, fat-free treat, but it's definitely smaller size and calorie-wise than a lot of stuff on their menu. And I'm actually more satisfied because it's what I prefer. I figure it's better than getting something sugar and fat free that tastes like cardboard, then going home and eating even more to make up for that disappointment.

I think what will really help me in this new challenge is a book I just got in the mail. I read some recommendations for it on one of the "normal" eating forums that I lurk on, so I thought I'd give it a go. I will let you know my findings very soon.

AWOL again!

I have been absent again from the blog, and I give my apologies. Part of the reason was the time of year: as a church secretary, Holy Week and Easter are one of the busiest times of the year for me, and there were a couple weeks when I hardly had time to think straight, let alone blog. It's finally starting to slow down now that I've mailed my monthly newsletter (I'm the editor, type in all the copy, design all the pages, fold and label them, plus handle all the bulk mailing duties!) I can take a little breather. In fact, summer is really slow for me at work, and I have to admit I'm looking forward to the lighter schedule.

We also had some upheavals in my home routine. At the beginning of April, after debating over it for the past year, we made the decision to move my daughter from one gymnastics team which was 10 miles away, to another gym that is 40 miles away! In addition, we're bumping up from three days a week, at three hours a pop, to four days a week, with the Saturday class clocking in at four hours! It's meant a lot more running for me, although once we get settled in, I think some of the other parents and I will set up some turns at carpooling. It's already obvious it was the right decision to make; I know my daughter has learned more in the last three weeks than she learned in the last three months at her old gym. Her form is better, and she's definitely increasing her strength.

To add to all this "busyness," I've been dealing with some issues with a medication I take. I take a generic form of Ortho Tri-Cyclen, and last month my pharmacy switched the generics on me. Well, the last couple weeks have been rough. The PMS was rough with major moodiness. Then, when I was supposed to have my "visitor," it was nowhere to be found. And I'm usually as regular as clockwork. I was freaking out and even got a pregnancy test, which did turn out negative. A few days after that, a week after it was supposed to come, it arrived with a fury, with cramps from hell and moodiness that made me feel like a crazy woman. I was near tears three times that day!

It was weird that this "scare" happened right now, because I've been surrounded by a lot of babies recently, and I have to admit I've caught a little baby fever. Even my husband caught a bit of it from me. So we both were really doing some heavy thinking and talking during those days when I wasn't sure. Although in the midst of my hormonal breakdown I ranted to him, "If I had a baby right now on top of all this I'd jump in front of a truck!" So I don't know what will happen now.

To make matters worse, my daughter and I caught some kind of stomach bug, so while I stayed at home with her yesterday and tried to work from home, I was also making frequent and urgent trips to the bathroom.

Needless to say, add this all together, and I haven't been doing that great the last few weeks with my eating and exercising. But it hasn't been a total backslide. I will backtrack a little bit here and say that as of March 27 I had lost almost 20 pounds since January, and on April 8 I got weighed at a different doctor's appointment and was still at that weight. I can't even guess what it is right now, though, after these last two weeks of insanity. I didn't want to weigh myself and bum myself out more. However, my husband did mention yesterday morning that he could tell I've lost weight, so apparently I haven't undone all the work I've done. I have until May 8 until my next check-in with my doctor, so hopefully by then I can regroup and get myself together again.

The biggest bummer is that my exercise is almost nonexistent this month. It's not about using it to lose weight: I've got a 5K race in June and I really want to be able to do it without collapsing! That's me on the right in that picture over there from last year's race, with my friend Jen and my daughter standing in front of us. I've GOT to get myself back to walking regularly and at length, because I don't want to make an a** out of myself. It's just been so darn tough lately to find the time. There are days I'm up at 5:50 a.m., get daughter to school and be at work by 8; out at 3, make an early dinner for my daughter so we can leave by 4:15 to get to gymnastics; run errands during her practice, then get home at 8:45 p.m. and hope to be in bed by 9:30 so I can start it all over again the next day. The good news is, some of the other gym moms want to start walking together when the weather improves (it was snowing here today!), so maybe that will help.

I will do my best to stay more up-to-date here, but I've recently been bitten by another fever: Facebook! It's hard to stay away from it and I've tracked down a lot of friends from my college days, which is v.v. cool!

Vacation-propelled Project

Today I tackled a project I am always procrastinating about -- uploading photos. In this digital age it's so easy to let these pictures pile up until you have hundreds lingering around on these little memory cards. I have a digital camera, my daughter has one that I use a lot, and then there's my cell phone camera, too. So I spent this morning going through all three and realizing it's been MONTHS since I've gone through them.

I've been reticent about looking at any recent photos because of my regain. But I was pleasantly surprised when I found this one at right. It was taken at Easter, when I was feeling particularly bad about myself, and honest to God, I think I look okay. Of course, this isn't a full body shot, which means I get to ignore a lot, but I can see that I still have a neck (believe me, there was a point in my life that I had a lot less of one), and that I can still look fairly decent with a little makeup, etc. The funny thing is, most of the time now I feel pretty much the same about my body as I did when I was thinner. I have certain parts of my body that bother me more than others, and they bothered me just as much if not more when I was spending all my time trying to lose weight. I don't know if I'm starting to finally learn a little self-acceptance, or if it's shoving my head in the sand and living in the land of denial, but I don't seem to detest my body as much as I used to.

The reason I finally tackled the photo backlog was our recent trip to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. We definitely had a fun time and the weather cooperated with us. I must admit I spent the majority of my beach time under an umbrella reading a good book and listening to my satellite radio (have I mentioned just how much I love Sirius? Our government needs to stop crappin' around and let them merge with XM already!). You also always find yourself people watching, and it was interesting to see the immense varieties of sizes, shapes, colors and ages you see walking around in swim suits. It makes you realize that life isn't a beauty pageant and you might as well just put the suit on and not worry about the cellulite and love handles. Isn't it better to live your life and accept yourself instead of hiding away and never venturing out because we don't meet some unrealistic standard?

Being the foodies we are, vacations have a lot to do with the meals and treats we find away from home. My husband introduced me to this crêperie on a little side street off the main strip. He and his family always went there and reveled in this French delicacy, whether it's sweet (Nutella and strawberries are my favorite), or a savory one like Hubby's ham, tomato and cheese one at right. They also sell croissants, and the big decision is whether to get the crepe or the croissant. My husband, of course, got both. I decided to go with the croissant, and I took one bite of his crepe just to try it. And while it tasted great, that one bite was enough.

In fact, my foodie tendencies were quite subdued on the whole trip. In the past, before we even left home I would stock up on a bunch of snacks for the road trip and the hotel room. This year I didn't do it for myself (although I did get some things for Hubby, daughter and her friend) and I didn't even miss it. The only thing I brought for myself was some flavored seltzer water because I know how hard it is to find in convenience stores and vending machines. Both days at the beach I did not spend the whole time thinking about what I could be eating from the boardwalk. Amazingly, both days at lunch all I ate were my daughter's leftover french fries with vinegar, and I was perfectly satisfied with that. In this instance I didn't mind eating what she left behind because they were the fries most drenched in vinegar. Yum!

I did buy some treats, but not nearly in the volume I have in the past. There's one kind of fudge I absolutely love from a candy store on the boardwalk, and normally I bring a whole pound home and eat every ounce of it. This year I decided to only get 1/4 pound. I ate it all myself, of course, but I felt just as content -- and I probably felt less sick to my stomach -- having eaten so much less.

Now, I was not a "perfect" eater; at supper time I definitely ate a lot, certainly overeating in most books, but I found myself much more particular about what I ate. I didn't clean my plate just because it was there and I didn't want to "waste" it. I was actually okay taking one or two bites of something just to savor the taste of it, and leaving the rest behind.

So I wasn't perfect. But I certainly felt a lot more "normal" about food and eating, and it was a really nice feeling. I hope it's a continuing trend.

Off to Make New Memories (and re-live old ones)

After some discussion, we finally decided to splurge a little with our rebate check and go to the beach this week. We're trying to be a little economical and go Tuesday, Wednesday and come back home Thursday, when the hotel rates are cheaper. Hopefully the beach won't be as crowded during the week, too.

We are going to Rehoboth Beach in Delaware. Since meeting my husband we've been going annually, which was fun for me because before that I hadn't gone since I was six years old. In those days my mother's cousin owned a beach house down the coast on Dewey Beach, and we (my mom, sister and I) would go down with cousins or friends while my Dad and his friends would go out west to fish for trout. This "girl trip" was always a lot of fun, even that last year when I had to go with my finger wrapped up in bandages after breaking it in a freak door-slamming accident. I can still vividly remember distracting myself while my mom changed the dressing on it (it looked pretty gross to a 6 year-old) by reading my first Wonder Woman comic book.

Sometimes I really think I have some sort of psychic abilities. I'm not saying I can foretell the future or find missing children, but there are these uncanny coincidences always seem to happen to me and the people close to me. A lot of it happens with the phone: sometimes I'll know exactly who's on the phone and what they want before I even see the Caller ID; more than once I've picked up the phone to call someone, and before I can dial the phone rings and it's them. Or I get the call through and it just so happens they were getting ready to call me.

I'm not going to go into the whole long list of incidents, but here's the most recent one. I have not talked to my dad since last Sunday, so I haven't informed him that we're going to Rehoboth. Yet this morning I checked my email and saw a message from my dad -- which is odd enough, because he rarely e-mails me -- which contained these photos. (Sorry they're small -- it's all I could download and save from Dad's email)

I had almost forgotten that my dad and his friend owned a boat called the Rusty Nail -- yeah, a real luxury yacht! -- and they kept it docked on the Indian River Inlet, which is in the Rehoboth area. That's me in the photo on the left, dressed in pink and looking like I'm on the telephone with someone. Even though it was so long ago -- in my preschool days! -- I can still remember pieces of these adventures out to sea, posing for the camera and holding a fish that was as long as I was tall, staying in our friend's camper, even the night we had a flat tire on the Bay Bridge. They were such fun times, in the days before my parents' marriage went downhill and life was still carefree and happy.

Maybe that's why I still have this fondness for these trips to Rehoboth, and I now try to create new happy memories for my daughter in this same location. Coincidentally, my husband and his family also made many summer trips to this beach, too, so we're both able to relive our childhoods through these visits. I'll try to take some photos while we're there and share them with you when we get back.

Getting Ready

Every day I say I'm going to post, and then something happens and I don't get to it.

It's no surprise -- I'm counting down the very few days left until I leave for London. I'm packing up my sundry items, picking out coordinating outfits (I'm packing light and being as mix-and-match as possible), making sure I leave copies of my passport and my itinerary for my family, figuring out what goes in my check-in luggage and what I'm carrying on board with me.

Not to mention making sure my husband and daughter can get through the week without me. I'm printing up schedules, to-do lists and reminders of where my daughter needs to be and what my husband needs to do around the house. I've been briefing my mother on morning routines, since she'll be getting my daughter ready for school in the mornings (my husband leaves for work at 6:30 a.m. and my daughter doesn't leave until 7:50) I've arranged for my brother-in-law to drive her to school, since he already takes my nephew every day and they live just a block or so away.

For those of you new to my world and haven't read my old post, this trip caused some major strife in my life when it first came up. My good friends from my days as a newspaper person arranged this week-long trip and invited me to come along. From the moment I mentioned I was thinking about going, my husband was not happy about it, even though he takes a yearly fishing trip to Alaska with his buddies and leaves my daughter and I home alone for a week. The more I debated going the more displeased he was, and it escalated to the point that he dragged his parents into it to try to gang up on me. This made me even more stubborn and determined to go, and I did finally book my airline ticket and make my lodging reservations almost in spite of their protests.

Things did calm down over this skirmish -- my husband and I were able to talk things out and come to an understanding. As for the in-laws? Well, we've basically taken the path of "let's pretend it never happened and never discuss it." In fact, this past Sunday was the first time since this began in the early fall that my MIL ever uttered a single word about my trip. I guess it's hard to deny when it's a week away!

Throughout these preparations I've been trying my best to stick to my 2008 goals. I've been doing really well with taking my vitamins and supplements, and I really think it's helped my energy level. The exercise is going so-so: I've been pretty regular with my exercises on my stability ball, but the treadmill walking has been more erratic. The food is pretty hit and miss; sometimes I feel pretty intuitive about my eating, then there are times I find myself pretty compulsive or emotional when it comes to food. But more than once I've caught myself before I do it and can prevent or interrupt myself before I go over the deep end. I'm squeezing in as much "inspirational" reading as I can, and like I mentioned above, the blogging is coming in fits and starts. I suppose I should be pleased that I've been able to do this much so soon into the year. I initially said I would do this in baby steps, which I thought would be doing one thing perfectly, then moving on to the next goal. But I need to stay away from the whole perfection trap and learn to appreciate what I can do, no matter how imperfect.

Here's the bad news: I think I'm coming down with another cold! I just finished my antibiotics for my sinus infection a week ago, and it's bumming me out that I'm feeling lousy again so soon. I'm loading up on Echinacea with my vitamins and hoping I can knock it out of my system before I leave Friday evening. If I'm worse on Friday, I'm going to try to get to the doctor that day and get any meds I might need so I can wipe it out for sure at the very beginning of the trip. But hopefully it is just a cold and I don't need more antibiotics.

I'm hoping to post once more before I leave with any final pre-trip thoughts.