The Importance of Halves

Cue my theme song.  Last night was weight-in.  As usual Steven pulled out the scale and I took my place.  I lost...wait for it...three and a half pounds!  That's right, 1, 2, 3, point 5!  And that half is extrememly important to me.  It means that I have lost a total of 28.5 pounds.  What's the deal with the half?  Well, for one, it means I am only 1.5 pounds from 30 and that sounds so much better than 2.  A whole half a pound better.  It's a big deal. 

Halves are essential.  We need them.  The half full (or empty) glass is not near as important when it's running over or bone dry.  Halves make us feel better.  Epecially when talking about weight.  It's the perfect portion.  Think of it this way.  If I had said that I gained some weight (I'm lightheaded from the thought right now) wouldn't it sound better if I told you it was a half a pound as opposed to a whole one?  Yep.  And saying I lost three and a half is better than three.  Halves are easy to justify, easy to conquer and easy on the ego.

We've all heard the saying, "don't do anything half-way."  Or something like that.  But isn't half-way better than none at all?  Now I'm not saying we should all turn into lazy people who only do enough to get by.  Well, unless that's your job description (it's in the fine print).  But the half should be more respected.  Finding half a million dollars is better than finding none.  And losing half is better than losing all.  Though at this point in time I wouldn't mind finding half of ten dollars.  But that's another entry.

All I'm saying is that I'm proud of my half pound, tacked onto the end of my three.  It was very important to share with you.  It adds to my acheievement.  And there is nothing wrong with that.  Even if it is one half at a time.

Bozo on a Bender

If you were to see me right now you would think to yourself that I look like one of the following things...

• a young girl who got into her mother's lipstick
• a 3 year old that does not know how to drink red Kool-Aid yet
• a drunk clown

Can you see it?  Do you have the visual?  No?  Let me spell it out.  I have a huge (and I mean it) ring of red around my mouth.  My lips are swollen and they itch.  Hideous right?  Yep. 

This started this past winter.  My lips would get chapped to the point of severe irritation and this was the result  A few days and nights of extrememly heavy Blistex application and it goes away.  But the in the meantime (the in between time, you go for yours and i'll go for...sorry--slipped into the rap from Can't Hardly Wait) it is so embarrasing.  You can tell people are trying not to look at it.  But how can they not?  I would!  You can't miss the glow of red that eminates from my face.  It's like a beacon begging your eyes to follow it as I talk.  sigh*

Since the weather has warmed up (Thank you, God!) this has pretty much stopped happening.  Only after the temperature dips and I subject myself to the elements does it show up again.   I've been good for a few weeks now.  My Blistex has stayed perfectly hidden in the drawer, not needed in the least.  Then last night I went to hockey with Steven.  After the games the guys all stand outside for a while in a circle.  There's a cooler in the middle.  And they stink.  But i've already written about that.  Anyway, last night was really chilly.  I had a coat on and the wind was a little punishing.  I should have known today would be this way.  I should have known that my mouth would turn on me. 

I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business, when I began to feel that familiar tingling in the lower half of my face.  By the time I went to lunch and bought some Carmex (they did not have Blistex) I was puffed up pretty good.  Note to self:  Carmex is not Blistex.  It does not work like Blistex.  Carmex sucks.  My lips have gotten worse!  Bigger, redder, badder than ever! 

I give up.  Steven went out and bought me a supply of the good stuff so I can start my treatments tonight.  In the meantime (the in-between time) I will have to settle for looking like Ronald Mcdonald's half-sister who may just appear on an episode of Intervention in the near future. 

  

A Thief in the Night...

Ok, we've been robbed.  While we slept someone came to our house and took what was ours.  Can you believe this?  It's infuriating.  How dare they take what doesn't belong to them.  Stupid rabbits.  Those are OUR flowers!

I know it sounds silly, to spout off about animals eating plants, but we all know my history with horticulture.  I finally--FINALLY--had a bit of a garden growing.  We'd planted some Gerber daisies and some petunias up around the mailbox.  They were so pretty.  Shades of pink and purple and a few white flowers, just hanging out, taking in the sun, soaking up some water like plants do.  One night we went to bed, thinking they were fine.  The next morning we woke up to find them accosted.  Eaten!  Dug up from the root!  Totured!  My only hope is that they went quickly. 

The Gerbers are still there though badly beaten.  See the problem is that once I saw that the majority of my work was lost, I kinda stopped caring so much.  I haven't watered them enough and I'm sure there is some rule about picking away the dead things.  Yeah, not so much.  The Gerbers are fighting hard.  They're tall and seem to be ready to hold on as long as possible.  You'd think this would make me want to do for them, give them care, feed 'em.  Eh.  We'll see. 

I blame the rabbits.  They killed my drive.  Now the lady across the street has some flowers around her mailbox.  If they stay there I'm going to take this as a personal attack.  We've never caused any harm to the bunnies that inhabit our yard.  They poop all over it and we still do nothing!  Have you seen piles of rabbit poo randomly placed in a yard before?  Weird stuff.  Anyway, I didn't know were were expected to provide them with treats.  There is plenty of other junk in the yard that they can have their fill of.  Why the pretty stuff?  Why the stuff we paid for?

I'm whining, I know.  I'm stomping my feet and pouting.  I'm making a scene.  Stupid rabbits.     

Don't mess with breakfast

So in my never-ending search for healthy things that I can eat that do not induce gagging I found my way to Joy Bauer's newest cookbook.  Yep, my Inner Skinny lady has come up with even more ways for me to get some variety in our meals while still following her rules.  YAY!  I got the book about three weeks ago and we've been busy trying new things.  The turkey meatballs in marinara?  Awesome!  The upside-down pan pizza?  Hello!  The Italian breakfast bake?  Bleh.  Yeah, bleh. 

Don't mess with breakfast.  It's an easy meal and pretty hard to really goof up.  We stick to basic breakfast foods that have withstood the test of time.  The bowl of cereal.  The toast.  The pancake.  The (occasional) bagel sandwich from Dunkin' Donuts.  You know, the stuff your mom and grandma made.  But I thought-- crazily--that I wanted to stray from what I knew and go for something different.  Well, phooey on that. 

The breakfast bake had such promise.  Eggs, potatoes, Canadian bacon, oninos, mushrooms.  A sprinkle of Italian seasoning.  Cook the veggies some and then mix it all together.  Pop it in the oven and take it out when the eggs have set.  Easy.  Bleh.  There is a pound (yeah, a pound) of potatoes in this thing.  And it was just too much.  The other veggies and bacon were good in the egg, but those potatoes killed it.  Steven loves potatoes.  He was not a fan of this.  Grrr.  I'm all for trying new stuff but that was a dozen egg--gone!  An onion--gone!  All that time--gone!  (It did take forever to prep and pre-cook everything.) 

Oh, well.  I know better now.  It's back to cereal and toast and bojang--oops!  Never mind.  Back to what I know.  Most of her recipes have been so good.  We're trying another one this weekend.  Buffalo Chicken Chili.  Fingers crossed.  And at least it's not breakfast.          

The Sunday Blues...

I used to love Sundays.  It was our relaxation day, the day we hung out and did nothing together.  Saturdays were great because there was that promise of one more day at home.  One more day to get the housework done, start or finish a project or simply sit on your butt in front of the TV and doze off all day.  Sundays were our days.  And now I feel like I've lost them. 


I hate Sundays.  Sunday means that Monday is coming.  The alarm goes off, the shower comes on and I'm out the door by 7:30.  On to a place I hate and drains every last bit of happy out of me.  This is not just the whole "work sucks" speech.  Yeah, yeah work stinks.  Who cares?  We would all love to be doing something else with our time, that's just a given.  But when work starts to make you not only dislike every second of your week day but also who you are when you're there, something is painfully wrong.  That's where I'm at.  That's who I've become. 


At home, I'm happy.  I'm not even sure how many times I've said that this week.  But it's true.  As soon as I leave at 5:00 and head to my house I feel like everything is finally ok.  That weight that sits on my shoulders when I get to the office in the morning lifts and I actually feel like I can smile.  I don't smile at work anymore.  Not much anyway.  And don't look at me sideways because I will start crying.  Actually start crying.  And it's an all day thing.  And last week, it was an all week thing.  Every day the same.  Every day picking away at who I am. 


It's Sunday right now and I'm anxious, nervous, on edge.  I want the time to stop so I don't have to go.  I wish I was the kind of person that would call in sick when I'm not.  Hell, at this point, I wish I was actually sick.  But I'm not.  And I'm not the person that lies and says I am.  Even now, when I hate it this much, I can't pull that prank.  I can't tell that fib.  So I watch the clock and know that I am another minute, two minutes, ten minutes, an hour closer to tomorrow.  How sad is it to already hate tomorrow and it's not even here yet?  That place has stolen my tomorrows. 


And it's stolen my Sundays.  And even my Saturday nights.  I actually got upset last night because today was coming and it would lead to tomorrow.  Crazy, right?  I know it sounds that way.  I know you probably think you have the answer to my problem--it's all so simple right?  You're wrong.  Nothing is that simple.  Not right now.  And probably not for the next little bit.  So I have to deal.  I have to go and suck it up and do a good job so that I can have a job.  I have to sit there and focus on what's in front of me so that I can keep what's on my mind quieted enough to make it through the day.  Have you ever had to do that?  To push something to the back of your mind even though it is screaming to get to the front?  It's hard.  And it's exhausting.  I'm exhausted. 


I want my Sundays back.   

Milestone

So I've hit a milestone.  Wanna hear about it?  I knew you did.  I have officially lost 25 pounds!!  I'm doing a happy dance right now.  Well, not really.  But only because I'm sitting.  If I were standing, it would be on!

I'm a long way from where I want to be but I'm also a long way from where I was.  It's a little hard to believe that I've lost this amount of weight.  I have struggled for years to lose anything.  This is certainly not my first venture into the world of dieting.  But it has cleary been my most successful.  So thank you, Skinny Cow.   Thank you, Moe's.  Thank you to everyone that has encouraged me and pushed me.  Can't you just see me at the podium with my little statue--a gold scale more than likely.

Tonight we get to celebrate.  We're having PIZZA!  Ok, ok don't freak out.  It's not what your thinking.  We are having upside-down pan pizza.  It's made with ground turkey, whole grain pancake mix, veggies and some mozerella cheese.  It's actually good for you.  Go figure.  I never really thought that I would enjoy things that were healthy for me.  Now don't get me wrong, I still love the bad stuff.  The pizza from dominos, the chocolate chip cookies and all their friends.   Friends like fried chicken and macaroni and cheese and butter and....better quit.  But you get my point.  I still like those things but i know that they don't like me that much in return (or maybe they do since they like to stick around).  I don't HAVE to have them anymore. 

Twenty-five pounds later, and that feels really good to say.  

still here

Well, it's been a while.  But i'm still here.  It's really funny--and not that funny at all--how quickly things can change. And by things I mean your life.  Everything.  One minute, say at 11:29 am on Friday, everything is going like it always does.  You're going through the motions, waiting for the next day to come, not realizing that in 60 seconds, the world is going to stop. And then it does.  And all of a sudden it's hard to remember what is was like before 11:30 slapped you in the face. 

My life--our lives--changed last week.  Steven was told that the company he had worked for since he was 15 no longer had a place for him.  I'm not going to get into reasons or blame or anger.  It's all there but it's not healthy.  Well, a little is.  But that's all I have to give right now--a little.  It's time to move on--to pick up and walk away and know that in the end he--and we--are better off.  And I know that we can do that because we have each other.  And we have friends and family that love and support us.  We will all lean on each other.  And we'll be ok. 

I just wanted to say that I haven't forgotten about what makes me happy.  Writing this blog is one of those things.  So I need it now. Plus I know that you are all just dying to know how my weight loss is going.  Never fear, my friends, weigh-in is tomorrow! 

My husband is another thing that makes me happy.  And even though I don't see him at work anymore, I do see him at home.  And that's where I need him the most.  Cleaning the kitchen liked I asked him to.  And loving me more evey day.

cry, cry baby...

So let me start off by saying that I was weighed last night and the scale did not move.  Considering the punishment I put my diet (yeah, that's what i'm calling it now.  It's shorter so it's easier to type) through this week, I will take that as a personal victory.  I may not have lost, but at least I didn't gain.  Good enough, moving on.   

Tonight is Friday.  I usually love Fridays.  It's my favorite weekday. You have two work-free days ahead of you, live it up!  Well, this Friday Steven is going out of town.  He is heading up to VA on a fishing trip with his older brother and a friend of theirs.  The boy is more giddy than a nine-year-old at a Hannah Montanna (or is that Miley Cyrus?  Who cares, neither of them can sing.) concert.  He's really quite cute to watch.  I love that he's super excited and I know the boys will have a fantastic time.  

However, my problem is this:  I don't do well staying by myself.  The thought of it will stress me out to no end.  I'm not sure exactly what it is, or honestly, when it happened, but I am a bonafide, possibly certifiable, Scardy Cat.  I spent my youth watching scary movies with my girlfriends.  "Candyman, candyman, cand---"  Well let's not test that out.   I've seen hundreds of them.  And loved them.  Even the cheesy ones that no one should love.  Have you seen Dolly Dearest?  Then you know what I'm talking about.   

I've lived by myself before.  I did it for YEARS.  No issues.  Not one problem.  Then Steven came along and now I only feel safe when he's there.  I don't watch scary movies anymore.  It's sad really.  A whole genre of movies, wiped out.  And staying overnight by myself is something I just avoid.  

So, the parents are coming up to stay with me.  That's sad, isn't it?  I have to be babysat by the folks.  In my (puny) defense, I didn't ask them to come.  They just told me they were.  But it's not like them being there will bother me.  However, it is a tad embarrasing.  Oh well, at least I will get some sleep.   

Pulling the Trigger

As a part of this life change that I'm going through, I am supposed to stay away from "trigger foods."  These are items that lead to overeating.  For some it's potato chips--you know, you eat one and then all of a sudden you've eaten a whole bag?  Ok, so I'm part of that "some."  For others it's something like cookies--you know, you eat five after you cook them and enough dough to make ten more?  Yeah, I'm in that group too.

What I have come to realize is that I have a lot of trigger foods.   Cookies, potato chips, reese's pieces, potato salad, peanuts, peanut M&M's, bacon (yeah, bacon.  Who are you to judge me?!) and loads of others.  Overall I have done a great job of staying away from these things.  I know that if I start, I won't stop.  But last night I gave in.  I had a royally crappy day at work and I had no interest in cooking or doing anything good for myself.  So we ordered pizza.  sigh*--and chicken wings.  (It was on special!!)  I ate until I felt like my elastic pants (home time is PJ time) were too tight.  Well, not really, but still.  It was bad.  I won't tell you the exact numbers.  As my mama says, "Jessie, you should be shamed!" 

Clearly pizza is a trigger food for me.  So sad.  No more cheese and bread (wow, two more trigger foods!) and topings?!  It can't be.  I would say that I will just have to enjoy in moderation but that's a joke.  I don't think I have ever enjoyed pizza in moderation.  Or cookies, or chips or peanut M&M's or...sorry, off track.  I'm going to need serious help to eat just one or two pieces of pizza.  Thank goodness for Steven.  He is really good with this stuff.  Well, except last night.  But in his defense, I was pitiful.  I really think he would have given me whatever I asked for.  Dang, I should have mentioned a new coffee table.  Anyway... 

I guess it all boils down to the fact that these things happen.  I'm going to mess up from time to time.   Got to pick up and move on from here.  I just really wish that there weren't still pieces left in the fridge.  At least there are no cookies or M&M's in my desk. 

I've Learned...

I've learned that...

• ground turkey makes a mean burger and an even meaner meatball.  (Seriously, it's good!)
• only Moe's can make the Close Talker salad.  Don't try it at home, folks.  I did and now I can't even bring myself to eat the real one.  The wanna-be version I made has tainted me for a while.  :(
• plants have to be watered regulary.  Crap, forgot to do that last night!
• no matter how many times you say something, it doesn't mean a thing if the person you are talking to is not actually listening.  (Steven, I promise that wasn't directed at you.) 
• whole grain pasta tastes nasty.  But if you coat it in enough sauce, it's totally edible.
• that not everyone will like you and sometimes it's for no reason.  (Though I still can't fathom why...I'm fabulous!)
• wanting to put on your wedding dress never goes away.  Every time I see mine hanging in the closet I have an overwhelming urge to put it back on and walk around the house.  
• missing my sister never goes away either.
• pollen is the devil and Claritin is a joke. 
• I have picked up a few (or a lot) of my Mama's manerisms.  Lord help me...Lord help us all. 
• raw almonds were meant to be dunked in sugar-free, fat-free, chocolate Jello pudding. 
• credit cards can get paid off.  patience, my friend, patience.
• I have no patience.  
• you can have more than one "soul mate," but that they come in different forms.  Right, Courtney?  :)   
• no matter how much you blow your nose, it's never quite done.
• the people that seem to demand the most attention from you will, nine times out of ten, be the ones you want to give the least attention. 
• I love my friends' kids more than I thought possible--even the soon-to-be-born ones. 
• banana bread with chocolate chips is awesome!  Says the girl who does not like banana. :)
• my hair can hold enough static electricity to shock a grown man into submission.
• Agri Supply is to Steven what Target is to me.    
• Steven really will always be "my favorite." ;)
• I need my girlfriends.  Even the ones that don't live next door--or in the same state. 
• It can get worse.  But it usually gets better too.  
• Johnston county grows the biggest bees I have ever seen!  Mutants, I tell you!
• there really are enough hours in the day, you just have to spend so many of them doing junk you don't want to do! 
• time does fly.  And no matter how much you beg, it ain't slowing down! 
• pink is definitely not just for little girls.