Monday, March 16, 2015

The Whining Stage of Grief and (Weight) Loss

I just got an email that all pizzas ordered online from Domino's are 50% off for an entire freakin' week! No way!!

Oh wait. See? This is what gets me in trouble. I don't mind eating Brussels sprouts (with bacon) or kale shakes (with blueberries),but I DO love me some pizza. And blueberry cobbler ice cream. (Thanks kids!) And Klondike Bars. (Thanks, husband!)

For me, it's not a matter of eating healthier. I have all that carrot juice and broccoli thing going. It's the "no more sucking chocolate sauce out of the bottle in the evenings while the kid is (finally) in the shower" thing that gets me.

In fact, most of the calories I eat are consumed between evening and bedtime. I'm tired, stressed, bored. Maybe a cookie will perk me up and make me feel happier.

It's like quitting smoking. There are time/place triggers. I'd look up strategies for stopping smoking, but you know they'd say things like, "Go for a walk." And then I'd have to kick someone. Cause walking in my McNeighborhood is boring and depressing. Bah humbug. And pass the mincemeat pie. With whipped cream, please.

Did Kubler-Ross mention anything about the whining phase?

Sunday, March 15, 2015

On the Five Stages of Grief and Weight Loss

Okay, so I only use this blog when I'm upset and no one else wants to hear about it. Like now.

Turns out that I'm not just overweight -- I've crossed over into obese. Mind you, I'm six feet tall, so I coasted for quite a while. I have places to hide fat that you don't even know about. But eventually, I hit a tipping point, and become roly and poly.

Hi, I'm Mom... and I'm fat. ("Hi, Mom!") Yes, fat. The kind of fat that causes Scandinavian children to stop, gawk and take pictures of us in American airports. (Ooh. I just Googled, "I Sinterklass thin?" and got an eyeful of Swedes in black face. Ooh. Bad.) Yes, I'm not just fat, I'm American fat. Greatest-Nation-In-The-World fat. Fat.

I did the math. If I give up all white foods, sugars, and fried foods, I can lose a pound a week, and be only "overweight" by, say, September. If I keep it up through Christmas, I may sneak into the top of the "healthy" range by spring of 2016. Then what? Then, I get to keep it up for the rest of my frikkin life? How much does that suck?

Unless I'm mistaken, I've moved past the "denial" phase of weight loss and straight onto the "anger" phase. Next up? Bargaining: "If I go gluten-free, will that take care of it?" And everyone's favorite, depression. "Oh God, how much does this SUCK?! Kill me now!"

So, bear with us here. I'm hoping we get to acceptance soon...

Saturday, August 2, 2014

Who knew?

The go cart racing went just fine. He only nearly ran over an attendant once. And he only almost threw up once. And it all worked out. WHO KNEW?!

But I had a really weird high school dream this afternoon. But more later. Headache...

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Baby Steps and Stomping

So I've been trying to baby-step my way into the fall semester. Every day this week -- with varying success -- I have gotten up at 7:00, drunk coffee until 7:30 while watching Wild Kratts, taken a shower, made breakfast at 8:00, and been semi-ready to do battle by 8:30. I haven't had as much luck with getting to bed by 10:30 pm, so today, I got all dressed and breakfasted, and took a two hour nap on the couch. Baby steps.

The Boy was invited to a birthday party at the go-kart track for this evening. This is the boy who never, ever wants to learn to drive, so I was intrigued. Then he asked if it was dangerous, so I described it in a non-Mario-and-Luigi-style. He decided he had to wear long sleeves and long pants so he looks like a race car driver. *facepalm* He's making Plans. Weird Plans.

Just when I thought he was starting to become a cool teenager, he pulls this spit. I have given him the "You are not the center of attention here" speech along with the "please just try to blend in" speech, but he's sticking with it. I had The Husband casually drop by the track with him while they were were out buying a small present, just to see that it wasn't the Daytona Speedway, but no. So, in 90-degree heat, this child is wearing black warm up pants and a long-sleeved Montreal Canadiens t-shirt. I guess it could be worse, but it's not boding well...

You should see some of his "This is NOT how it is supposed to happen!" meltdowns, complete with stomping, screaming, and lying on the floor an doing both. They're legendary. There was the explosive nosebleed in the car meltdown after his sister threw his rock out of the window. (Apparently, he had made life plans involving that rock that we could not possibly have anticipated.) There are others -- about one every three or four weeks, but you get the picture. We try not to let him see us sweat, but you know we do it.

I see a meltdown in his near future over his lack of mad skills and some serious mortification on my part. Maybe I'll send The Husband. Nah, that would just be mean-spirited. On the other hand, I'm letting him sleep as long as he wants, and maybe he'll surprise me.

Wish us luck!!

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Creatures of Habit (and other small woodland beings)

Well, The Girl puked a stomachfull of Mirilax just after I posted yesterday. *sigh* So we went on to other nasty concoctions to drink, and I think "things" are moving right along now. I'm actually a little afraid to leave the house with her just yet! 

So, I'm returning to the essential question of the week: Is it possible to consciously become a creature of habit?  

I know perfectly nice people (like The Husband) who are happy as ducks to get up at the same time every day, make coffee, get a shower, dress, make a lunch, pack up the coffee, and head out the door on the exact same schedule every day. They find it reduces the stress in their lives by eliminating just a little uncertainty from their day. They find it comforting. 

I find ritual and routine intolerably confining and tedious -- and that's where the problem lies. I NEED to be a creature of habit for this homeschool year to be a success. The Girl's work must be done every day and on schedule, or it won't get done at all. God knows when The Boy's work will get done, but I guarantee it won't be at midnight, since I have to be up at 7am to get on my morning routine. 

So, it comes back to this. Can I become a creature of habit? Probably not.

Can I behave like a creature of habit? I just don't know... I guess I have to, but don't know how. I get cranky just thinking about it. 

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Yikes!

Our lovely pediatric gastroenterologist has ordered me to clear The Girl's colon. I'm supposed to give her a full dose of Mirilax every half hour until, well, she only has liquids in her colon. Yikes.

So far, she's had SEVEN doses in three hours, and nada. The suspense is killing me...

Monday, July 28, 2014

Stand by...

We're having something of a mid-life crisis, a bout of existential angst with homeschooling.

The Boy is starting an online high school with Calvert. He refuses to take Spanish.

The Girl still reads at a second-grade level. Her vocabulary, spelling, and grammar are at least sixth grade, and she reads with inflection. Without any comprehension at all. Not sure if she's just being stubborn, doesn't have the verbal skills to form her answer, or if she simply doesn't make movies from words. Either way, reading and being read to are equally difficult for her.

So, I'm back. Back to square one this year.

I'm looking at Charlotte Mason for The Girl, which means short bursts of work and having her re-tell what she learned. I've set up one big messy event for each day of the week -- art on Monday, weird science on Tuesday, etc. But botany, Africa, decimals/percents, reading, etc. come in quick bursts all morning.

The first real question that MUST be answered is, "What makes me think that this year will be any different from the other times you tried to get her butt working?"

And the second question is, "When is The Boy going to get any work done?"

And the third is, "Can we become a family school that runs on a schedule?"

And finally, "Why couldn't I have been  born a creature of habit?!" Man, would that make this easier...

Stand by for details.