It's "weigh-in" day, but I thought I would write before I go to Weight Watchers this time. I'm still hoping I've continued to lose weight this week, but I won't be surprised to find out I've actually gained. I'm on my period and I've been ravenous all week. I kept within my points every day except Thursday. I made a deliberate choice to eat a bag of cookies. I'm joking, I didn't eat the whole bag, although I really wanted to. However, combined with the glass of milk I drank with them, I went over by 12 points. That's really quite a bit considering I used up all my flex points for the week. I'll explain those some other time.
When I decided to eat those cookies on Thursday I saw myself as a boiling pot of potatoes. Perhaps there's a better analogy, but this is the one that popped into my head and made sense to me. You know how the pototoes get boiling really good and if you don't watch them or turn down the heat they boil over? Once they've hit that point and boiled over, you finally turn down the heat and they cook the rest of the way just fine. That's how Thursday was for me, it was my boiling over point. So I ate the cookies, I allowed myself to indulge, then I turned down the heat and I'm fine again. The problem is that if you let the pot get to the point where it boils over you have a big mess to clean up on the stove. So that's how I see it today. I might not have lost any weight this week, and possibly I've gained, but I'll just clean up the mess and get back to cooking.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Oh! Yesterday I heard a knock on the door and when I answered it there was a woman standing on our doorstep. She said simply, "I have your dog." She and her husband have had Cassie since the first day she was missing. They have loved her and half-heartedly looked for her owner. They finally saw one of our fliers we had posted and knew that she had people worried about her. I really think they had hoped they could keep her, but as soon as the lady saw the look on my face when she told me they had Cassie, she knew that we would want her back. I'm so grateful to have her back, but even more than that, I'm thankful that my prayers were answered to have her kept safe. People are good.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Baggy Underwear
I can't guarantee that my underwear wasn't loose before, but they are definitely baggy now. I know for sure that my pants are looser on me than they were a month ago.
So, I haven't posted my last two week's weight loss yet. After my third week I had lost seven pounds and last week I lost two, making it a total of 14.6 pounds in four weeks. Comparatively, that's not a lot for me, and I didn't think it would be enough to make a noticeable difference, but I feel it in my pants. Yay.
So, I haven't posted my last two week's weight loss yet. After my third week I had lost seven pounds and last week I lost two, making it a total of 14.6 pounds in four weeks. Comparatively, that's not a lot for me, and I didn't think it would be enough to make a noticeable difference, but I feel it in my pants. Yay.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The Prodigal Dog
My husband loves to play the good news/bad news game. "I have some good news and some bad news," he will frequently say. In fact he likes it so much that he will often make things up so that he can make me play it with him. I normally choose to get the bad news first. That way, the blow of the bad news seems softened by whatever positive thing might be going on. I truly do try to find the positive side of most things, but at times it takes some effort. One of my favorite sayings is a paraphrase of something Abraham Lincoln said, "You can be upset that a rosebush has thorns, or delighted that a thorn bush has roses." Generally, I choose to be delighted.
Sometimes Brian will try to soften the blow of bad news by making up something even worse to tell me first. Today, as we were driving home from church he said, "I did something today that you're not going to be very happy about."
Steeling myself, determined that I wasn't going to freak out, I said, "And what is that?"
"I invited the missionaries to come over for lunch. They will be at our house in about 15 minutes."
Thoughts of my filthy house and empty larder swirled downward in my mind like toilet water. But hey, they're hungry young men, they'll be grateful for a peanut butter sandwich they don't have to fix themselves, right? I hope neither of them are allergic to peanuts.
Then Brian said, "Not really, but I volunteered to go to girls' camp this week as one of the priesthood leaders."
Is that all? He seems to be gone every weekend on some Boy Scout activity or another and just got back from a week-long pack-packing trip with the scouts, but how can I possibly be upset that he is willing to serve in the church? I'm thankful that as a school teacher he has the time, and is willing to help where he is needed.
So, I have some good news and some bad news.
The bad news is that a week ago yesterday both of our dogs somehow got out of our house, during the hours of 3:30 AM and 6:30 AM, and ran off. The first day that they were gone the temperature got up to 114 degrees. We spent the day driving around looking for them, calling Animal Control, and praying. The beagle, Ranger, has a tag on his collar with my phone number on it, but Cassie, an English setter, had her tag fall off. They would be fine if they stuck together, but Cassie can outrun Ranger by a mile.
The day served to remind me what an emotional eater I am. It was tough to think about anything other than our poor dogs out in the heat. I found myself continually wandering into the kitchen to look though the refrigerator and cabinets for something to munch on. I stayed within my points, but it was tough.
Heartbreakingly, we haven't found Cassie. We have spent hours at the animal shelters, hanging fliers on neighborhood mailboxes, lamp posts, and pet stores, and visiting veterinarians in the hopes that someone might have found her and taken her to get checked. As always, not knowing is the worst. The thought of her wandering around thirsty and hurt in this heat is more than I can bear. I honestly don't think I've ever seen Brian this heartbroken before. I'm quite positive that he would never put as much time and effort into finding me as he has his dog. Isaac has cried himself to sleep several nights, and I feel like crying with him.
The good news is that the following morning, at 3:00 AM, Clark heard Ranger barking at our front door. He has been treated like the prodigal son since his return. I've noticed that his food bowl is always full. I think that's because everyone keeps feeding him from their plates, making his own food inconsequential. People are fighting over who gets to sleep with him. We are all so grateful to have him back.
Sometimes Brian will try to soften the blow of bad news by making up something even worse to tell me first. Today, as we were driving home from church he said, "I did something today that you're not going to be very happy about."
Steeling myself, determined that I wasn't going to freak out, I said, "And what is that?"
"I invited the missionaries to come over for lunch. They will be at our house in about 15 minutes."
Thoughts of my filthy house and empty larder swirled downward in my mind like toilet water. But hey, they're hungry young men, they'll be grateful for a peanut butter sandwich they don't have to fix themselves, right? I hope neither of them are allergic to peanuts.
Then Brian said, "Not really, but I volunteered to go to girls' camp this week as one of the priesthood leaders."
Is that all? He seems to be gone every weekend on some Boy Scout activity or another and just got back from a week-long pack-packing trip with the scouts, but how can I possibly be upset that he is willing to serve in the church? I'm thankful that as a school teacher he has the time, and is willing to help where he is needed.
So, I have some good news and some bad news.
The bad news is that a week ago yesterday both of our dogs somehow got out of our house, during the hours of 3:30 AM and 6:30 AM, and ran off. The first day that they were gone the temperature got up to 114 degrees. We spent the day driving around looking for them, calling Animal Control, and praying. The beagle, Ranger, has a tag on his collar with my phone number on it, but Cassie, an English setter, had her tag fall off. They would be fine if they stuck together, but Cassie can outrun Ranger by a mile.
The day served to remind me what an emotional eater I am. It was tough to think about anything other than our poor dogs out in the heat. I found myself continually wandering into the kitchen to look though the refrigerator and cabinets for something to munch on. I stayed within my points, but it was tough.
Heartbreakingly, we haven't found Cassie. We have spent hours at the animal shelters, hanging fliers on neighborhood mailboxes, lamp posts, and pet stores, and visiting veterinarians in the hopes that someone might have found her and taken her to get checked. As always, not knowing is the worst. The thought of her wandering around thirsty and hurt in this heat is more than I can bear. I honestly don't think I've ever seen Brian this heartbroken before. I'm quite positive that he would never put as much time and effort into finding me as he has his dog. Isaac has cried himself to sleep several nights, and I feel like crying with him.
The good news is that the following morning, at 3:00 AM, Clark heard Ranger barking at our front door. He has been treated like the prodigal son since his return. I've noticed that his food bowl is always full. I think that's because everyone keeps feeding him from their plates, making his own food inconsequential. People are fighting over who gets to sleep with him. We are all so grateful to have him back.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Gratitude
When Davis and Clark were just 4 and 2 years old I called them destructo boys, they seemed to destroy anything they could get their hands on! They had so much energy and were into everything. They never walked, they always ran everywhere, even if it was just across the room. They weren't particularly naughty, but their bodies couldn't hold all of their energy inside. They had huge, inquisitive spirits that were just too big for their bodies.
One Spring morning I had been out for a walk at daybreak. When I got home, my little Clark was asleep on the sofa. He must have wandered out from his bedroom while I was gone (their father was still asleep in bed) and climbed onto the sofa to wait for me. I sat down next to him and marvelled at how peaceful it was while he slept. I remember thinking, "Why can't they be like this all the time? Why do they have to be so crazy and loud?" Suddenly a depth of understanding was opened up to me. I believe it was a gift, a moment of insight, from God. In an instant I saw and understood how extraordinary it was that the boys had all the mental and physical capacity to be as active and curious as they were. I needed to be grateful that their bodies worked without limitations and that they could think and communicate without impediment.
Even now, when Davis fiddles with things and takes them apart to see how they work, thereby making them no longer work; when Clark challenges me and accuses me of making up a words because he has never heard them before; when Isaac bounces with energy and talks nonstop, intertwined with my frustration is gratitude.
I feel the same gratitude for my own body, which has held up remarkably well considering the load it carries. Although I do have some health issues related to my weight, such as high blood pressure, I don't have as many as one might expect. Aside from high blood pressure (which is controlled really well through medication), most of the byproducts from my weight and size are mostly inconvenient, not life threatening, although as I get older I wonder how much longer this ol' form can take it. I guess that's one of my "straws," one of the things that has me committed and actively trying to change. I have been blessed with so much, I need to stop squandering it.
One Spring morning I had been out for a walk at daybreak. When I got home, my little Clark was asleep on the sofa. He must have wandered out from his bedroom while I was gone (their father was still asleep in bed) and climbed onto the sofa to wait for me. I sat down next to him and marvelled at how peaceful it was while he slept. I remember thinking, "Why can't they be like this all the time? Why do they have to be so crazy and loud?" Suddenly a depth of understanding was opened up to me. I believe it was a gift, a moment of insight, from God. In an instant I saw and understood how extraordinary it was that the boys had all the mental and physical capacity to be as active and curious as they were. I needed to be grateful that their bodies worked without limitations and that they could think and communicate without impediment.
Even now, when Davis fiddles with things and takes them apart to see how they work, thereby making them no longer work; when Clark challenges me and accuses me of making up a words because he has never heard them before; when Isaac bounces with energy and talks nonstop, intertwined with my frustration is gratitude.
I feel the same gratitude for my own body, which has held up remarkably well considering the load it carries. Although I do have some health issues related to my weight, such as high blood pressure, I don't have as many as one might expect. Aside from high blood pressure (which is controlled really well through medication), most of the byproducts from my weight and size are mostly inconvenient, not life threatening, although as I get older I wonder how much longer this ol' form can take it. I guess that's one of my "straws," one of the things that has me committed and actively trying to change. I have been blessed with so much, I need to stop squandering it.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Sweet, sweet sugar from the cane
I feel so naughty! This morning I'm having oatmeal with whole milk and sugar to sweeten it. Not sugar substitute, mind you, but the real deal!
I'm still really struggling with getting all my points in. That must sound really stupid. I'm here because I eat too much (well, one of the reasons), but I'm paying attention to what I'm eating and making better choices, so I'm not hungry all the time. Keep in mind, it's only because I'm so heavy that I get a boat load of points. Just how many daily points am I allowed, you ask? Ugh, I really didn't want to admit it, but I promised myself when I started this blog that I was going to be completely open and honest, no more hiding in the corners, remember? Okay, here goes....I'm supposed to eat 42 points a day. To put that into perspective, when I get down to where I want to be and trying to maintain it, I will be eating 23-25 points a day, and that's still somewhat generous.
I know there will be days when I eat all my 42 points and wish I had more, but for right now, my struggle is to get them all in, and eat them earlier in the day. So that's why the whole milk and sugar for breakfast. The other night it was about 8 PM and I still had 20 points left for the day. I was talking to my 16 year old son, Davis, about it, wondering if I was going to try to eat them, or just let it go for the day. He left the room and a few minutes later he brought me a HUGE bowl of ice cream. I said, "Holy cow, how much do you think you've got there?" He gave me a cute little smile and said, "20 points worth." I ended up putting half of it back, and still had to eat something else. I know it sounds crazy, but I have learned that it really is just as important to eat all your points as it is to not go over them.
So my goal this week is to get my milk and oil in early in the day, that will help with the points. I think I'm also sort of stockpiling my points throughout the day so that I will be sure to have enough, but that obviously isn't a problem right now. I don't know that I'm doing it intentionally, it might be a habit from when I was on Weight Watchers before. It's so funny to me that my problem right now is too many points. How's that for irony?
I'm still really struggling with getting all my points in. That must sound really stupid. I'm here because I eat too much (well, one of the reasons), but I'm paying attention to what I'm eating and making better choices, so I'm not hungry all the time. Keep in mind, it's only because I'm so heavy that I get a boat load of points. Just how many daily points am I allowed, you ask? Ugh, I really didn't want to admit it, but I promised myself when I started this blog that I was going to be completely open and honest, no more hiding in the corners, remember? Okay, here goes....I'm supposed to eat 42 points a day. To put that into perspective, when I get down to where I want to be and trying to maintain it, I will be eating 23-25 points a day, and that's still somewhat generous.
I know there will be days when I eat all my 42 points and wish I had more, but for right now, my struggle is to get them all in, and eat them earlier in the day. So that's why the whole milk and sugar for breakfast. The other night it was about 8 PM and I still had 20 points left for the day. I was talking to my 16 year old son, Davis, about it, wondering if I was going to try to eat them, or just let it go for the day. He left the room and a few minutes later he brought me a HUGE bowl of ice cream. I said, "Holy cow, how much do you think you've got there?" He gave me a cute little smile and said, "20 points worth." I ended up putting half of it back, and still had to eat something else. I know it sounds crazy, but I have learned that it really is just as important to eat all your points as it is to not go over them.
So my goal this week is to get my milk and oil in early in the day, that will help with the points. I think I'm also sort of stockpiling my points throughout the day so that I will be sure to have enough, but that obviously isn't a problem right now. I don't know that I'm doing it intentionally, it might be a habit from when I was on Weight Watchers before. It's so funny to me that my problem right now is too many points. How's that for irony?
Sunday, July 11, 2010
End of Week 2
This past week was a yucky one. Although I kept within my points, I was a big slug.
Along with the the points system, Weight Watchers has what's called "The Good Health Guidelines." They include daily eating 5 (9 for my weight) servings of fruits and vegetables, 2 (3 for me) servings of milk products, 6 glasses of liquids, 2 teaspoons of olive oil, 2 servings of lean protein, and a vitamin/mineral supplement. I don't have a real tough time getting the fruits/vegetables and liquds in, but I have to really think about the milk and oil. I'm not a real big milk drinker and greasy foods have never been my downfall. So as I said, I kept within my points, but I wasn't as careful as I had been the first week on the Good Health Guidelines. Nonetheless, I still lost 2 pounds, which is a total of 5.6 for two weeks.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
The First Weigh-In
I was so excited to go to Weight Watchers and get weighed today. I don't have a scale, but I knew I had to have lost weight because I hadn't gone over my points. Aside from sticking to the plan, my goal for the week was to lose a point to eat. As you lose weight, you have less points that you can eat, and I was determined to lose one this week. That might be kind of a crazy goal, but loosing points means I'm losing weight, and I was really close to the line. So, I accomplished my goal, I lost 3.6 pounds. Now 3.6 pounds doesn't really feel like anything when there is so much to lose, but I'm being more realistic this time around.
I'm a product of the immediate gratification, disposable mentality that most Americans have these days. I'm aware of it, and fight against it, but it's still there. I want to be able to lose 200 pounds in six months, but realistically (I think), it's going to take a minimum of two years of steady work to get it off the way I've chosen. I'm okay with that. I want to look great, but at this point that's never going to happen without surgery. Even if I lose everything I need to, I'm going to have terribly baggy skin. It should be obvious that my appearance has never been a motivating factor for me.
There is so much I want to be able to do that my size and weight keeps me from doing. I'm constantly alert to my surroundings, gauging if I'm going to fit wherever it is I need to fit, if I'm going to break whatever I might be offered to sit on, or if I'm simply going to run out of breath and energy. I've been taking online classes through Utah State University, and I was excited at the prospect of transferring to UNLV and attending classes on campus, then I realized that I will have to deal with the possibility of not fitting into student desks. I know that some rooms will have tables and chairs, but I can't guarantee that every class will have a place for me to sit.
I want to be able to be active with my family. I want to climb rock walls with my sons, backpack down Havasu Canyon (and back up), run Crazy Bob's Bairgutsman with my sister (providing I can talk her into doing it again), and a plethora of other things that are daily activities that most people take for granted. I'm going to throw a party the first time I can sweep and mop my house without my back hurting or needing to stop for a break.
I'm a product of the immediate gratification, disposable mentality that most Americans have these days. I'm aware of it, and fight against it, but it's still there. I want to be able to lose 200 pounds in six months, but realistically (I think), it's going to take a minimum of two years of steady work to get it off the way I've chosen. I'm okay with that. I want to look great, but at this point that's never going to happen without surgery. Even if I lose everything I need to, I'm going to have terribly baggy skin. It should be obvious that my appearance has never been a motivating factor for me.
There is so much I want to be able to do that my size and weight keeps me from doing. I'm constantly alert to my surroundings, gauging if I'm going to fit wherever it is I need to fit, if I'm going to break whatever I might be offered to sit on, or if I'm simply going to run out of breath and energy. I've been taking online classes through Utah State University, and I was excited at the prospect of transferring to UNLV and attending classes on campus, then I realized that I will have to deal with the possibility of not fitting into student desks. I know that some rooms will have tables and chairs, but I can't guarantee that every class will have a place for me to sit.
I want to be able to be active with my family. I want to climb rock walls with my sons, backpack down Havasu Canyon (and back up), run Crazy Bob's Bairgutsman with my sister (providing I can talk her into doing it again), and a plethora of other things that are daily activities that most people take for granted. I'm going to throw a party the first time I can sweep and mop my house without my back hurting or needing to stop for a break.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)