self sabatoge

183lbs March 2009

I wanted to write this blog for me. Taking a little of my own advice. Yes, that's hard to swallow sometimes for me. I haven't blogged about my weight loss or my struggles. Kind of thought that was my Husbands deal and I would leave that for him, but last night as I couldn't sleep again. I laid in bed thinking about all the "bloggers" he had just introduced me to and how reading about their struggles and daily life issues really had my mind a reeling.

I started my life style change in March 2009 a few months after my husband's diet change in January. I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to start or stop one more diet and I sure wasn't ready to let go of my comfort that I had developed with food. So for a few more months I was a total bitch and as he ate his lean cuisine I would order Chinese food, pizza, wings, KFC or make up a giant batch of fettuccine. I was almost daring him to stay on the dark side with me. Stay in the place where we were comfortable, not happy, just comfortable.

See, before my pregnancy in 2005, I never really had a weight issue. I pretty much ate what I wanted and occasionally worked out. A long walk with the dogs or an elliptical machine marathon or maybe dust off the Bow flex for a few workouts. I never got the issue that people had with weight loss. Just do it. It's not that hard. Oh, this was some major fights between Joe and I.
During my pregnancy I was a model citizen. No pop, no candy (okay a stray brownie did find it's way into my mouth, but rarely) lots of fruit and veggies and plenty of whole grains. I believed wholly in the theory healthy mom, equals healthy baby.
Well as most of you know that isn't exactly how it ended for us. Our baby was not healthy in any way, shape or form. And as I sat in the NICU for the next eight weeks the baby weight that I had gained (30lbs exactly) melted off of me. My appetite was no longer thriving, but neither was my activity level, so they matched each other.
It wasn't until we brought our baby home did I start to see a problem with myself. I would find myself crying and eating at the same time. Worrying and eating, Laughing and eating. I think you get the picture. I was medicating myself with food. My marriage was rough, my baby was damaged and my life was forever changed in ways I couldn't comprehend.

I gained the first 10 lbs and I remember thinking. "No big deal. I'll just diet when I feel better." I remember seeing my 26Th birthday pictures that Joe took of me and thinking, "ugh, I might need to watch myself a little closer. I can't believe how fat I look." I allowed myself to accept the excuses that people gave me and I gave myself.
"You just had a baby."
"Staying home is hard, you'll find you niche."
"You have more things to worry about now then your weight."
"I don't have time to exercise, let alone shower."

Then in October of 2007 I found out I was pregnant again. My first Doctor's appointment was rough. I remember stepping on the scale and thinking "SH*T, I'm about to add another 30 lbs to this number!"
I wasn't as diligent with my second pregnancy as my first. Fast food was almost always on the menu and even an occasional pop found its way in my stomach and I'm certain that Brownies were always eaten in large portions.
I ended my pregnancy at a whopping 203 lbs. (I am only 5'2") I will always remember this number because no matter what, I promise myself I will never see this number again no matter what.
The 3o lbs (exactly) I gained fell off immediately, thanks to a very hungry breast feed baby.

The remainder of the weight stayed put and stayed put good. I tried my previous tactics of cutting back for a few days, or going for a quick walk, even jumping on my daughter's trampoline for a total of 2 minutes before quitting. But this time the scale didn't move, in fact, August 2008 I actually gained even more weight.

183lbs
This is where I stayed, teeter and tottering, a few numbers back and forth until March of 2009. When I finally wrapped my brain around itself and took control of my life.
Now, at 140.8 (this morning) I am finding myself at yet another impasse.

I have realized that I am keeping myself from succeeding. Why? I don't know. Scared? Maybe, of what, I'm not sure.
My goal is 130lbs. And the lowest the scale has read is 137lbs on my birthday, but since that date I have been on a mission to make this number further from my grasp.
The cravings have started again, the depression over everything (life itself) gaining in momentum, almost enjoying the softness that my body is getting from the lack of exercise, the exhaustion from the poor eating. Watching as the scale has slowly climbed back up~until last night as I read Jack Sh*t Getting Fit's blog about the boiling frog, did I realize what I had been doing.

So here I am today. August 17, 2009. Making a new commitment to myself to lose those last 10 lbs and finally feel the success and happiness that comes along with the joy of looking and feeling great again.

Breakfast- Oatmeal, Splenda, Skim Milk and Blueberries
Lunch- Lean Cuisine (Swedish Meatballs) and a sliced Homegrown Tomato
Dinner- Making Turkey Chili (in the works as we speak)
Dessert -No ice cream or brownies or chocolate cake- Gonna try fresh raspberries and hope that does the trick.

I can do this!!!

140lbs August 2009

My Love

As he got into his car to drive away and I walked the two children back into the house I was overwhelmed with emotion. I sat eating my lean cuisine and realized I was blinking back tears. From what and why? I sat for a moment as I shared my meal with 3 dogs and two, somehow still hungry, children and came upon the conclusion that it was pride that had me so close to tears.

Pride at how my Husband looked in his suit for his best friends wedding. Pride for how determined and motivated he has stayed over the last 8 months. Pride for knowing that he was all mine and always will be. Pride for the confidence that was radiating off of him that was not there just a few months back. Pride for the patience he was keeping as I clicked off pictures of him even though he was running late.

Joe, I am so proud of you! You have done an amazing job with your weight loss (115lbs so far) and your strive to better yourself, for not only you, but also your family. This means such a great deal to me when just 3 years ago I wondered how much longer your body (and the good Lord) was going to allow you to stay on this earth with us.

And I totally agree with the unspoken words of Bella when she seen you in your suit. "Hubba Hubba Dad!" At least that's what I believe her eyes said and would've spoken if possible.

We love you and support you 100%. Way to go my love.

R

My Little Green Duck

Yesterday afternoon after Joe got off work we headed over to my Mom's to go swimming in her pool. I wasn't really looking forward to this on this particular day. It had been a long and exhausting day and the kids were both grumpy right along with me. The pool was revitalizing! The water was the perfect temperature and even Remington, who is not much of a water bug yet, seemed to be enjoying himself.

This past weekend Bella had started jumping off the edge as we would catch her before she went under and this would delight her for hours, but yesterday as she kept pushing herself off the edge and away from the ladder she would start kicking like there was no tomorrow. Mostly this was working, at least enough it seemed to spark a hope in her that maybe she could swim. So over and over again she would push herself away from the ladder and slowly sink under the water.
This was enough to make me a tad nervous and excited, so I mentioned to her that Jared, her cousin, had a vest that he wore to help him stay afloat so he could swim.
Now, we have tried this vest many times before in the past and she has never been successful with it nor loved wearing it, but yesterday was different.
We tried the vest on, it was bright green with a zipper in the back, and she immediately jumped in and started kicking away, but this time, she was able to swim without sinking. Bella started giggling and yelling, "Momma, Dadda".
And that was that...she became my little swimmer!

I kept telling her she was just like a turtle in her little green vest and it took me a second to realize what she was trying to tell me. When I would call her a turtle she would shake her head no and say "Mom" and her hand was signing under the water "Duck". When I finally put them all together, I asked her if she wanted to be a green duck not a turtle and she said "shyeah", and swam away (with me trailing behind laughing)

On the car ride home through very sleepy eyes she kept saying "Mom, grrr "(thats her grandma Dee) and signing 'green' 'duck'. I would say, "Yes, Bella you were a green duck in Grandma Dee's Pool", and she would say yeah and go back to listening to her music.

So here's to you my Little Green Duck. I am so proud of you!!! I love you!

Today is my Birthday!

Today is my birthday. I know, whoohoo right? Well, for me Birthdays are a big thing and this year is no different. I turned 29 today. This is kind of a mixed one for me on many levels. I feel for one that my youth is gone, my last year in my twenties. Where am I? What do I have to say for myself? On the other hand, I am so glad that this is my last year in my twenties. Do you know how many times I'll be in a great conversation and someone will mention age and completely shut down when they find out I'm only twenty-whatever. Like I am too young to know or understand life or that my opinion is cheapned because I am not the same as them.

Every year as it approached our birthdays my Mom would always tell my Sister and I that whatever we wanted to do or eat was our choice, for the whole day, it was our special day.
I was always a lucky summer birthday, unlike my sister who is a January and always ice'd out of having a birthday party. Nope, not mine. The hotter the better. That just meant more swimming, more ice-cream and more reasons why we had later bedtimes. Still means the same things to me today, expect so far the kids still have to go to bed at the same time, so I can enjoy a later bedtime by myself with my Husband...

It also meant that it was almost Fourth of July. Which is one of my most favorite holidays. Growing up we always spent Fourth of July down at my Grandma's house. Those were some of the best memories that I have of growing up. All my Aunt's, Uncle's and Cousins would be over sprawled out on the front lawn under the shade trees either on blankets with the babies or sitting in the old green chairs that would leave color marks on your clothes.
We would eat watermelon that was always so cold and juicy and drink ice cold pop (no name brands, just orange, grape and cherry) that was stuck on ice in a big metal tub and run in and out of the house collecting bottle rockets and black cats, until it was dark and then all my Uncle's would file into the country road and start setting up the big displays. Which, were by todays standards probably not very big, but back then to me they seemed marvelous. Yep, those were the days!!!

So bring on the celebrations! Today is my birthday. My one day a year that is all mine! Guess, what I'm gonna do?
Go swimming, eat ice-cream (cake) and stay up past my bedtime. Some things never change no matter what the age! I'll worry tomorrow about what I'm going to do with my life and where I want to be in the next 5-10 years

My Mom Moments

So, my day started off a tad rough. Kids wanted to sleep in, refused to eat breakfast, stuck in traffic, missed my exit due to a traffic jam on the way to preschool. All this equaled super late getting Bella to school and one very frazzled mom with a cranky, post-day shot, given one year old in the back seat. I pull through McDonalds and order a large Non-fat, Sugar Free Vanilla Cappuccino (yes, still trying to lose another 15 pounds) and hope this keeps me from quitting my poor paying excuse for a job, called SAHM, or housewife, or full-time Mommy (whatever title you want to give it). The drive back home is soothed by the warmth of the liquid and further soothed by the 100% whole wheat toasted english muffin with sugar- free jelly. Now my day is starting to look up. I think I actually sigh out loud.
One year old, Remington, is now happy toddling around playing with toys without fighting for the right to them. I'm sitting on the couch watching a dvr'd recording of Jack Hanna (love that guy and his awesome job that I could totally do in another life).
I mellow out competely and quit feeling sorry for myself before the caffenine kicks in and sends me in overdrive. I vacuum the entire upstairs, start a load of clothes, clean both kids rooms and play with Remington. By the time 11am rolled around and it was time to head back to school to pick up Bella I was beginning to think I had this mommy thing down, I just needed doses of caffeine to help complete me.

After a always crazy lunch of mix/match items and sharing with the dogs (3 spoiled weiner dogs) I start to clean up the kitchen. Bella goes upstairs and out the doggie door and Remi is content playing in the kitchen with me. I usually don't worry to much about Bella being outside for a few minutes by herself. We have a fenced in yard, as baby-proofed as a yard gets, with lots of toys to play with.
Soon I hear Bella clumping back down the stairs and when she gets to the bottom says, "Yeah Mom." *

*Isabella has many abbrivations after her name CP (Cerebral Palsy), PVL (Periventricular Leukomalacia), CVI (Cortical Visual Impairement) and CA (Congenital Afibrinogenemia, okay so this one, I made up the abbrivation) so basically she is severaly disabled but is amazing at the progress she has made and continues to make. Speech is one of the slowest ones to come along.

I turn to see what she is "yeahing" and immediately notice no diaper and the smell of poop. "Bella did you poop?" As if this is a question I need to ask at this point, but figure if she becomes aware of the fact of, maybe it will further along the potty training process. Her legs have poop on them, her hands are covered, a few spots on the face and of course her rear end.
She replies with her usual, "ahhuu". The first intial response is to spank her. Doesn't she know better than this? I quickly decide that the answer is, no, she doesn't know better or she wouldn't have come down the stairs so proud of herself. So my second response is just automatic clean up mode. Don't think, just do!
I grab hold of her and carry her carefully up the stairs and into our bedroom in search of the missing diaper which is outside and being inspected closely by a dog. "Bella stay right here and don't move or touch anything," I say as I rush out and save the diaper or save the dog (depends how you look at that one) then grab Bella and push her towards the shower.
The smell is beyond pleasant as I close the door and watch as Remi bangs on the shower door wondering why he has been left out of the water play.
I wash her throughly, twice and finally slide open the door for Remington to join us which he happily climbs in as I remove his diaper (which he has pooped in too at this time). So the process starts over, wash twice with Dad's body wash and throw in hair shampoos and conditioners while I'm at it, then scrub down the shower and make sure it is clean again.

I wonder if this is normal everyday mommy moments? Is this just part of being a Mother to a diabled child? Will Bella ever get that when you poop it is suppose to be in the potty and then flushed without touching it?

I don't know the answers to any of these questions or the many more that float around in my head 24/7 but I have decided to start blogging about them. Hopefully someone out there understands me and what I am going through and can provide some answers or much needed advice.