Tidbits Episode 5

WOW! It has been a LONG time since I did a tidbits episode. I have so much to tell you!

~ My daughter is back home again (sort of).  She'll be moving out again in a month, but for the last couple of months she's been living in our camper out back with her fiance while they save for an apartment. It's a long story, but it's been nice having her around again. I love my little bugszilla <3

~ The dieting thing, oh lord, do we really need to talk about it? The best I have EVER done on a diet is when I started cutting things out a little at a time. I ended up dropping 18 lbs and then started eating all of the crap again (bad, bad, bad) So I've started over (yet again) with that. This week is no soda, and I'm doing great. Dropping one thing at a time is way easier for me than going cold turkey on anything. I'm determined never to give up.

~ My boys recently moved out (huge post on that coming soon). And I'm feeling the empty nest syndrome.

~ I recently made my first trip to a big city. Hubby had to go to Atlanta on a business trip and I tagged along. I have to say I wasn't impressed. It was really pretty, but I'm a rural girl y'all. I come from a small town and I've always lived in the backwoods. I live the closest to town right now I have in my entire life. And I'm about a 10 minute drive from the nearest small town. I've never been closer than an hour away from a big(ish) city, and I have always been curious about them. So when I had the opportunity to ride along I jumped on it. I was not impressed.  As far back as I can remember I've known that when you meet someone on the street you smile, make eye contact, nod, and issue a polite greeting. "Morning." or "Hi, how are you?" Which, if eye contact is made, will usually elicit a smile, nod, and a reply. If the other person doesn't make eye contact you just nod, smile, and move on. And they do the same. I walked every where I went in Atlanta for three days, and I greeted every person I met. With the exception of one person everyone simply looked away when I made eye contact and smiled. The one lady made my day. She was probably 70-80 years old and when she smiled back I said, "Morning!" "Morning! It's a beautiful day isn't it." "Yes ma'am it is!" I was so happy that someone was finally being polite, you have no idea. It wasn't just that they were not making eye contact or nodding or whatever, it was the general air of rudeness that surrounded everyone. At any rate I've decided big cities are not for me. I'll stay right here in my little corner of the world where there really are smiling faces and beautiful places :) However it was nice to finally be "traveling" even if it wasn't too far away.

~ For the past 8 years I've been babysitting my nephews. I don't mind doing it, it helps my sister and they are a hoot. (really funny for you non-southerners) But I have finally decided that I'm ready to be free. My kids are moving out, I want the freedom to do what I want when I want to do it. Started in August I'll only be watching them a few days a week after school. This works well for me because I would miss them terribly if I didn't keep them at all.

March Madness

So around the 10th of March I decided I needed to start keeping a journal. I use MyFitness Pal to keep a food log, I have MapMyFitness to keep track of my walks (which I haven't done any of lately), and I now own a FitBit. With all of these wonderful high tech gadgets, I feel like the thing that may help me most right now is just a simple log of my day. Most of the time it is one or two sentences, sometimes it is more. I normally write a quick bit in the morning when I get up, and then a follow-up the next morning about how that day ended. I have simple goals for this month. And since I mention them in my writing I will share them here:

Goals:

 - 3500 steps per day
- 16 oz of water per day
- no candy
- don't go over your calorie limit

3-10-15 

8:00 AM - 300 lbs. I'm not sure if that is right. If it is, it shouldn't be. I ate way too many calories this last week. My goal is 1978 calories today, let's see if I can manage that. 

BMD, AMD

Time has marched on, and the day I have dreaded for a few years is quickly approaching. My sons will be moving out soon. 

Harry

I am both happy and saddened by this. My one desire for my children is that they would grow up to be strong, independent, productive members of society. I want them to have their own space, to know joy and embrace life. But I want them to do all of that while still under my wings, darn it!  Ignore that, that's the controlling part of me screaming, and the mothering part of me crying out.  Soon my nest will truly be empty. And this is one of those times that I find my heart crying out for mama. 

Kevin Jarrett

Sometimes it seems as if my life is measured in two sections. BMD: Before Mama Died, and AMD: After Mama Died.  Before mama died I have memories, lovely memories. And I have regrets. So many things I wish I had done that I didn't do. Why didn't we go try on wedding dresses? The only thing she asked to do, but we never found the time to do it. Why didn't I go visit her more? Force her to move in with me? Move in with her?  The why's and what if's would drive me crazy if I let them. So I shush them and just try to remember the good times. Her singing and dancing in the kitchen with me. The look on her face when we gave her the train she'd always wanted for Christmas. 

AMD is full of times I need her reassurances that this too shall pass. Like now. What was it like for her when we were all out of the house? How did she handle this aching? It's crazy, the things that I never thought to ask her before, but now, now that I am going through these things, I want to ask her. How do I handle this mama? What did you do?  

Three hundred and eleven

Three-one-one, tres-uno-uno.  How is that possible?

Last August I finally bit the bullet and set up all of my yearly physicals. Things I haven't done since I was a child because I abhor waiting in a doctor's office for five minutes of care which costs me well over $100.  I just feel it's stupid. Our insurance company didn't agree with me. They made it mandatory.  Fine.

Ok, I'll go, but I won't like it. 

Anyone who has read any of this blog knows that I have been trying to lose weight for two years. And in that time my weight has yoyo-ed as dealt with mama's cancer and then death. So when I made these appointments I was expecting bad news. At my heaviest before all of that I weighed 296lbs.  And that was bad. So I was thinking maybe 300, possibly even 305. I mean it was going to be bad, but I had lost down to 276 at one point, so really how bad could it be?

Well let me tell you, it was bad. When I stepped on those scales my weight was 311lbs.  That was apparently the shock I needed because for 3 months I kicked my tail into gear and lost a total of 18lbs, bringing my weight down to 293.  Then came Thanksgiving and Christmas, both really hard times for me in terms of emotional eating. It's when I miss mama the most, when I think of her most. December is her birthday and Christmas and every time I turn around I am wishing she was here. So I pretty much gave up again. And I did it willingly. I did it knowing what I was doing.  January rolled around and I had my first visit with my new gynecologist.  I stepped on the scale and shocked myself again 307 lbs. All of that work that I had just done was gone. I was almost back to my starting weight in August.

Are you freaking kidding me?!

And you know what the worst part was? I couldn't blame anyone. I knew what I was doing when I did it.  My doctor had told me when I went to see her in August that if I needed some help, she could probably prescribe something. I wanted to try and do it on my own first, no help. Because I knew I could. Also because what good is a pill that makes you not hungry when hunger doesn't figure into my extra eating? I don't have to be hungry. I don't have to be anything. I love food. And it gives me comfort. When I am happy, sad, excited, bored, whatever. And sugar is the worst for me. Sugar is my drug of choice. 

So once again I find myself rebooting my diet, no pills still. Exercising my body and my demons. I firmly believe that I can do this. And if you've read this all before and are rolling your eyes, keep rolling them. The only time you ever fail at anything is when you stop trying. And I'm not giving up!


Picture credits: First/Second

Moving on?

Mama has been gone 1 year, 3 months. That's 10,969 hours; 658,170 minutes; 39,490,200 seconds.  And still I miss her so bad at times that I will spend an entire week trying my best not to cry.  I wonder sometimes if I went to the doctor and told them how I feel if they wouldn't diagnose me as depressed and try to give me a pill to fix it.

Losing mama was the most traumatic thing I have been through thus far in my life. She wasn't just a parent to me, she was my friend. She was the first person I would call when ever I had a problem. And the first one I would call when I had some new and exciting news to share. She encouraged me, listened to me, and prayed with me, and I miss her terribly.

I confess that in the past I've been just as guilty of thinking someone who is grieving should "get over it" already. Your job will usually give you three days. You plan the memorial service, cry, and greet people you haven't seen in years, if ever. And then you're supposed to suck it up and move on. But loosing someone isn't that easy.

The night before my son had surgery on his ankle I wanted so desperately to call her. For her to tell me everything would be fine. I've heard people speak about forgetting that someone is dead so they'll start to call and realize they aren't there. I can't forget. I never forget. Every day it's a refrain that plays in my mind. "She's gone, she's gone, she's gone"  I never accidentally pick up the phone to call her. I know I can't. But I so desperately want to.  So very very badly.

The one thing her loss has taught me is that it isn't fair of me to put a timeline on grief, whether mine or someone else's.  Every single person, every relationship, is different. Whether you grieved a few days and moved on or are still grieving multiple years later, that is your journey. And it's one that we all must take on our own time and in our own way. And I don't want to feel guilty about missing my mama any more. I don't want to feel like it is wrong of me to ache at her loss.  I'll mourn for her as long as I need to, until I can move on.

Parenting Lessons I Wish I Had Learned Sooner

My children are grown. There will be no more muddy hand prints on the front door. The time when they would rush up to me and hug me tight, just because, has left. They still hug me, but now it's when they're leaving.  And sometimes, when I think back over our years together, there are some lessons I wish I had learned sooner.

"They grow up so fast."  Every person who has ever had a child has said this.  You never get it till they're almost grown. Then you desperately try to grab those moments. By the time I realized it my children were teenagers, and felt like I was smothering them; I was.  The dishes can pile up, the house may be a wreck, there will be grass to mow and bills to pay, budgets to balance and money to stress over. You will never get these days back.  Let it all go, and go play with your children.

We cuss, smoke, drink, gossip, and call people names.  And we wonder where our children get it from. You can tell them all day long. They are watching you.  Who you are will become a big part of who they will be. Your actions speak louder than your words. Use their scrutiny to become a better person, and you will, in turn, teach your child to be one.

When I grew up you did what your parents said, unquestionably.  And so when my children were younger I had this same stance. You do what I say, when I say it, because I said to do it. If I told my child to sit on the couch, I wanted them to sit in the exact spot I told them to sit in. And sit, don't lie down.  So many ridiculous battles I fought. What difference did it make which spot they were in or if they were sitting or lying down? The simple fact that they did go to the couch was obedience. Living with me at times was like living with the Borg, resistance was futile.  And when it came to questioning me about anything, that was unacceptable.

I wish I had answered the questions, why? what? how? I wish I had taken the time to teach them to ask questions, to seek answers; to learn. I had tried harder to encourage their free spirit and strong wills, rather than stamp them into my cookie cutter molds.