FISH stands for Finally, I’m Seeking Health. I have been curvy all my life. The problem is that where I used to have pretty feminine curves, I now have lumps. Where my shape used to be a nice hourglass, it has now turned to a stopwatch…you know, round with a couple of bumps, but ticking off the minutes of my life. Something has to change, and I’m pretty sure that the medical community is not going to find out how to make ice cream healthy or sugar good for you, so it means that my diet is going to have to change.
Of course, changing a diet is not as easy as it sounds. I have read a bunch of good books by Jordan Rubin like The Maker’s Diet and Perfect Weight America as well as Nourishing Traditions by Sally Fallon and then Body by God by Ben Lerner. Many of those diets are similar and I like them, but they all go (pretty much) in the face of the Standard American Diet- even the ones recommended by professionals. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do, so stay posted and I’m update…
Either way, what I would like to do for this website is to post pictures of progress, body measurements and my food log (or samples from it…) and just watch what works and what doesn’t.
This semester at school, I am taking a history course where the entire class is set up on writing an ORIGINAL historical research paper. It is incredibly intense because it requires loads of reading and writing (somewhere between 15-20 hours a week, for a 3 credit class!) but it is the ORIGINAL part that is really throwing me off!
My topic, which is still being revised, is how feminism has affected motherhood between the 1800s and 1980s. If anyone has any books or articles that were written in the 1800s about motherhood or the effects of motherhood, I would really appreciate any information that you could give me. You can post a response or email me. If you don’t know anything, could you ask the people around you? I am searching for this information but I fear that I am not going to have enough to write a good paper.
My goal is to present this information in a way that leaves no doubt that motherhood as it was in the 1800s, before feminism messed with it, was a much “better” way to raise children. I am not really writing a persuasive paper here, but I think I can still argue the point a little bit. 🙂
Thanks for the help!
My mom flew to New Mexico the other day and so now I have a consistent line of information. Katie is doing fine, she is at home now and the doctors think that the liver condition is a result of the mono. The major concern right now is to get the proper nutrients into her body. She is already extremely thin so she can’t afford to lose any weight. Adding this to the other million things that are already wrong with her and my mom says that she is taking about 12 different medications, including pain-killers, everyday. Continued prayers are always appreciated.
In other news, my sister, Katie (age 25), is in the hospital with liver complications. She has had a series of medical problems and this is the latest. The doctors do not have a diagnosis though talks of hepatitis have surfaced, they are just waiting for the body to fix itself (apparently, there is nothing they can do for the liver) but after one night at home, she is back in the hospital and now diagnosed with mono. Please pray for her health and healing. She lives in New Mexico and I am not able to visit her. She is, thankfully, a born-again believer of Jesus Christ the King.
Katie and Kelly (and me in the background) playing with some phones.
Katie and Kelly, twins.
My most recent picture of Katie (that I know of), taken Christmas of 2006. Katie is on the left, Kelly on the right (and pregnant with Bethany).
September 11, 2008; what a good day for reflections. I started my reflections this morning around 9:00am when I realized that today was September 11th, and that 7 years ago, I was in the military and just getting dressed to go to “PT” (I was on a swings shift) and I heard in formation that the World Trade Center had been hit with an airplane. I had no idea of the scale, in fact, I had no idea what the World Trade Center was. When my normally stoic platoon sergeant was late to formation, we were a little confused, but like good soldiers, we stayed in a loose formation talking amongst ourselves. As the platoon sergeant walked across the field toward us, stopped halfway to answer his cell phone, talked for a few minutes and then hung up and ran toward our formation as fast as we’ve seen him run. He called us to attention and told us that a third plane had hit the Pentagon and we were all to go to our barracks room and stay there until further notice. We saluted as the flag at the front of post was lowered and the gates barred. He told the soldiers who lived off post to plan on it taking several hours to get back on and recommended going home and coming back with plans to stay. He was right, though I didn’t live off post at the time. Armed guards were stationed behind a bunker at the front of the military base and every car was searched, proper identification was required. For the rest of us, we went back to the barracks and called our loved ones to let them know we were okay and that the Army was still protecting it’s assets, us. Later that day, we were marched to class (we had been allowed to either walk or march ourselves before) by a platoon sergeant or drill sergeant and though we had class on that day, much of the time was taken with talking about what was happening and what it would mean for us. We watched the footage over and over again, willing it to sink into our brains that something of that magnitude happened during our lifetime and not on the pages of the history book we were forced to read in high school.
Today, I watched the original footage from Foxnews.com (but I couldn’t find a link, sorry) and it completely brought me back to the moments I first saw the attacks and the days and months of ensuing chaos. I prayed for the families of the victims, that they continue in their healing process and for our country to not forget what it felt like that day, to remember that urge to fight, to defend our country. I was us to remember all the flags flying and how proud we all were to be Americans.