Trapped

March 31, 2014

I got online this evening to blog about the new diet that I’m going to try, only to realize that all I’ve ever posted was (insert new diet here) day 1. Ugh. I wish that surprised me, but it doesn’t. I’m a horrible dieter. In fact, the only area of success I’ve ever had was in gaining weight- which is pretty counter-productive at this point. I’m topping the scale higher than I’ve ever been (pregnancy included) and I’ve gotten to the point where my failures greet me every morning in the form of back fat, trouble standing, and low energy. There are so many diets that help you lose weight that it can just be confusing. One low-fat, one high-fat/low-starch. Glycemic-Index, Paleo, Atkins, Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, etc. My head is swimming from the blur of dieting and all their insisting that theirs is THE way. I’m so tired of their ways. I’m so stuck in the rut of promising to diet and then not dieting. I’ve made lists and goal sheets, I’ve planned meals and read recipes, I’ve even had my sister clean out my kitchen from all “forbidden foods.”

Many days, I entertain the idea of weight-loss surgery, except that I know it wouldn’t work. I’d get into the office and the doctor would say, “okay, prove you can stick to a diet: lose 10 pounds.” I’ll walk out of that office determined to do the right thing and I will end up losing nothing. What’s the missing link? Am I just trapped in this unhealthy cycle forever, like Sleeping Beauty having already pricked her finger or Snow White after the apple or Rapunzel in her tower- incapable of actually getting out, getting free? Am I waiting (unconscious) for Prince Charming to show up? That my diets have all failed because they weren’t the right prince. It wasn’t true love? I love these fairy tales, I’m not really one of those people who blames fairy tales for all of women’s woes today (quite the reverse, I assure you). Perhaps it is the mystical and mysterious depression that has settled into my body. Which came first, the chicken or the egg?

Maybe it’s just my insatiable desire for fast food and sweet stuff.

No matter what the problem, I want to deal with it intelligently and strongly. I want to stand, victorious, at the top of Mount Everest and look back at what I’ve done. Mostly, I just want to feel normal, moderately active, figure “flaws” that can actually be camouflaged by clothing instead of exacerbated by it. I want to feel pretty in a dress and sexy with nothing on at all. And don’t give me that crap about society’s standards being unhealthy. I’m not 120 trying to lose 5 pounds with D-sized breasts and hollow cheeks. I’m 240 pounds with DD sized breasts and a stomach that passed them up. My libido (what libido) [let's not even go there]. So, what’s going to work? What’s the magic pill that makes this all go away?

Did I mention that I homeschool? That my children are mired in my misery for every waking hour of their lives? Shouldn’t that motivate me? Shouldn’t the desire to stand victorious at the end be motivation enough? Why isn’t it enough? How do I fix this? I keep thinking about it and contemplating it and planning around it. But never doing it. Because doing it is hard. I’ve never done anything hard. Ever. The hardest thing I’ve ever done was finish delivering my (first) daughter naturally after 4 hours of pushing. The doctor was prepping the operating room for my c-section. I knew that was undesirable and somehow the determination and drive came over me. If I thought I had an extra 2 hours, I probably would have quit. As it was, I thought I could deliver her and I did. And though I’ve had three other (natural) deliveries since hers, I can’t really call them hard because I’ve only had to push less than 10 times for all three. Combined. It’s been a miracle, but not my miracle. Maybe it is just the feelings of being overwhelmed. I’m not good when I look at mountains from their base- in any area of my life, I just quit. If that’s the dishes, the laundry, the homeschooling, finances, or diet.

I wish I had a nice, fuzzy, upbeat ending, but I don’t. I’ve got nothing. And I feel helpless. And trapped.

New Kitty

February 15, 2014

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We aren’t completely sure if this is a boy kitty or a girl kitty. What we do know is that it is a lap kitty.

Introducing Rebekah Leann

January 21, 2013


IMG_8597 Rebekah

Rebekah was born at 10:41pm on January 5, 2013. She weighed 7 pounds, 8 ounces and measured 19 3/4 inches long.

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We had her at home as planned, which was good because I don’t think I would have made it to the hospital- I didn’t even know that I was in labor! Everything went well and we are so blessed to have this little girl in our lives.

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Failure to Thrive

April 13, 2012

Are you familiar with those useless, boring, obligatory doctor visits? I always hated them and felt that they were a complete waste of time. For the most part with the previous two children the visit was basically about getting vaccinations. Since I’m not especially thrilled with the vaccination process, but go along with it anyway, doctor visits take on somewhat of a negative view. I know that the idea is that if you see a doctor when you’re well, he might actually catch something BEFORE it becomes a big deal. I know that they aren’t there to evaluate my parenting style and choices and judge me. I know that it can be valuable, but in my experience, it’s been nothing but a waste of several hours waiting in a waiting room, then stripping your child bare to measure them, more waiting in a cold office (with your now undressed baby), and then a visit with a nurse, and a quick minute or two with the doctor, and the shots.

I have to say though, Andrew’s doctor has been completely pleasant. It’s still largely about waiting around, but I can easily blame that on our modern medical system rather than the doctor himself. Dr. Davidson is a soft-spoken man and, unlike other doctors I’ve seen, not prone to overly alarmist speeches. He makes a funny face when I’ve said something I think he disagrees with, but he calmly states his counterpoint or ignores it. I like that. He has reassured me a number of times that Andrew seems to be progressing fine developmentally, but starting around the six month mark, he began to express some concern about the lack of growth for both height and weight in Andrew. Still, he reassured me that he looked completely healthy. He brought us back in for a 7 month weight check and ran some standard lead tests seeing as we lived in an older home that had verifiable amounts of lead. Andrew made some progress for his weight check and the lead test came back normal.

Which is why I understood that he was really concerned when we discussed failure-to-thrive at Andrew’s 12 month check-up. Andrew still hasn’t gained weight. What used to be a healthy 50-75% baby has now dropped to 1%. He’s energetic and healthy, not prone to diarrhea or vomiting, has a good appetite, sleeps fine, walks, and screams to communicate a point. But he’s small and that is a concern. Really, seeing his growth chart really does it. So here it is:

Of course, like any parent, they begin to do research the minute they’re out of the doctor’s office. What I found is that failure to thrive (FTT) is really a symptom, not a disease. The causes are usually obvious: you’ve got a sick baby. In Andrew’s case that doesn’t apply which means that the odds are that his FTT is caused by… me. At least, that’s what the research seems to indicate to me. Sure, there are rare issues of growth hormone disorders and other endocrinological issues. There are many things that can still be causing it, but the research says that the odds are high that some “inorganic” reasons are to blame. As in, the parents are putting their child on a diet or some other form of abuse. Now I know that I’m not abusing my child nor withholding food from him. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking that the doctor might be thinking it.

The good news is this has helped me view my parenting and habits from the outside in. You know how when you are having company come over, you suddenly see all the things that aren’t clean in your house that you’ve been living with anyway? (Please tell me that it’s not just me!) I decided to begin to track Andrew’s habits- everything from sleeping and eating, pooping and playing. Though I was almost done weaning him, I (thankfully) was able to get my milk supply going again and have been feeding him (more or less) on demand. He nurses three to five times a day and again once or twice at night. I began to weigh and measure his food intake and how he behaves after a meal. Just like using a food journal for yourself helps you to identify food patterns and weaknesses, tracking Andrew’s diet has helped me see where I’ve become lazy (from having older children) and respond accordingly.

The other good that has come of this is that I’ve had to look very carefully at what I’ve been eating. For one thing, Andrew almost always refuses food if we aren’t eating the same thing with him. The other big deal for me is that I feel judged because of my weight. I’m embarrassed by it and this leads me to feel like other people are judging me using my own yardstick. I feel like, in this case, the doctor must assume that Andrew eats nothing but junk, since clearly his mother has over-indulged regularly. Out of my deep desire to lose this weight (AGAIN!), I’m going back to my couch-to-5K workouts and then from there into a half-marathon training program (with an adjustment period to build my weekly mileage in between) Ideally, I’ll get pregnant in there somewhere (yes, we’re praying for more children), but developing good work-out habits is good for every pregnant woman. In addition, I’m planning on juicing/juice fasting to include some nutrients that I know I’m not eating enough of. I would really like to have some crazy-fast weight loss just so that I can look better and feel better right away but I know that I only have enough discipline for the minutest of changes.

I’m still praying that the doctor’s up at Children’s Hospital in Denver will find out that there’s nothing wrong with my little one, but I’m still determined to be thankful in all things. After all, Andrew was created in the image of the Father and is perfect just as he is.

Dear Andrew

October 1, 2011

I wanted to write tonight about your personality and charm. Despite having a horrible day (you refused to be put down without a massive fit) you still managed to charm EVERY SINGLE PERSON who came in contact with you during the day.

Most babies grab attention. I think it is in our nature to be attracted to a baby’s innocence. But I have never seen people as drawn to a baby as people seem drawn to you. Even children and roudy boys look at you AND COMMENT about how cute you are or how happy you are. It {literally} took me five minutes to get into the grocery store yesterday because of the two separate women who stopped me to tell me how cute and charming you were. It was as though I was walking around with a clown costume on, it seemed that everyone’s eyes automatically turned to the adorable baby I had sitting in my cart.

I just want to thank God for you tonight. A mother always loves when her baby is praised, but there is just something so wonderful and consistent about this praise. For one thing, it isn’t about me, but I am definitely benefitting from all the attention. It encourages me and uplifts me. So thank you. {Both of you.}

Andrew Screams

August 20, 2011

Just in case you missed it on Facebook, this is Andrew’s new trick. It is hilarious to me, especially if you watch his eyes. :)

 

So over at one of my favorite blogs, Forever Folding Laundry, (don’t ask me how I found her blog, cause I have no idea- but she’s cool, and her husband works at Pixar!) on Fridays, she links up with the folks at Life. Rearranged and the Instagram App for the iPhone/iPod and posts an Insta-Friday post. Whew, what a set-up! I rarely take photos and even less frequently, post them on my blog, but that’s what I want to do more of; so here’s my first attempt. Hopefully, this will become a simple weekly tradition. See, I (almost) always have my iPod on me, and if I can remember to take a few pictures during the week, then perhaps I will be able to have something (just something!) to post every week. Now wouldn’t that be cool?

So, here it is, from our mid-week, end of summer (free) trip to the rinky-dink Pueblo Zoo.

Jordyn and Noah. Isn’t it nice when both children stop and look at the camera and sort of smile?

Andrew smiles. And watches the kids. And animals. And he drools, but we love him anyway.

The sun was hot that day…why does that sound like the opening line to something, somewhere? But, seriously, it was hot. And we picked the hottest hours of the day to be at this zoo. And we forgot to bring water so we had to pay through the nose to get some. Oh, yeah.

Jordyn and Noah watched the penguins eat their meal. They were jumping around and playing and not listening whatsoever to the woman talking about feeding the penguins, perhaps because she was standing behind everyone, but then, they decided to be cute.

Jordyn jumped. She jumped as far as a bullfrog.

Noah jumped. He jumped as far as a spider (that wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside her).

Andrew did not jump. He slept. And he refused to sleep laying down, so smushed into the cupholder he became.

And that was our trip to the zoo and my first experience playing with Instagram. Whatdya think? I kinda like it!

Check it out yourself!
life rearranged

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