I woke up somewhere between 5:30 and 5:36 this morning. I got myself showered, fed, dressed, and pretty and arrived at work by 7:30. For the next 8.75 hours or so, I treated patients back to back to back, educated parents, and helped share the responsibility of general clinic administrative upkeep. Somewhere around 10am, I happened to see the date in the lower right hand corner of my computer and realized it was a coworkers birthday, at which time I quietly organized a humble but heartfelt birthday celebration to be held at lunch.
Upon leaving work, I proceeded to sit in traffic for nearly an hour, despite the fact that I live only 15 miles from work. I then made a grocery list, fixed dinner, got the hubby fed and off to his open mic gig, and headed to Hobby Lobby (step 1 in the process of homemade Halloween costumes my coworker and I are putting together).
After leaving Hobby Lobby, I made a Monday night trip to HEB for what will be a little over a week's worth of groceries. Because it is late, the doors that usually enter were closed, so I made my shopping loop backwards, back tracking multiple times (I tend to forget items when I fail to follow my shopping routine). I finally made it back home around 9:00, schlepped the groceries to the apartment, unloaded them (hopefully they are all in the right place - no milk in the pantry, right?!), and washed/chopped/separated all of the fresh produce. Fresh cauliflower makes a HUGE mess, so I swept the floor, washed the dishes, and finished the night by cutting out the template to decorate our costumes tomorrow morning.
And yet somehow, while acknowledging the impressiveness of my day, I find myself less impressed with all that I accomplished and more concerned with where my day fell short. I do not know why, perhaps the daily onslaught of media, be it social or otherwise, but rather than patting myself on the back for the strength and determination (amongst other qualities) I exhibited today, my mind is drawn to the fact that, although I ate 3-4 'fun size' candies today, I failed to make it to the gym. Although I fed my husband a hot, home cooked meal, I do not know whether anything I fed him contained GMO's or high fructose corn syrup, or whatever awful else may be in foods these days. Although I took time out of my day to acknowledge and celebrate my friend's birthday, I did not bring him homemade treats.
And so I stood in the kitchen tonight, chopping vegetables (not all organic) and mentally menu planning breakfasts, lunches, and dinners for the week. Mentally organizing my days to find time to get into the gym or out for a run. Visualizing a calendar with due dates of bills and tasks to be completed. And one thought began to overwhelm all of the others:
You have enough. You give enough. You do enough. You ARE enough.
So this is what I want to share with you. I read facebook posts, I have conversations, I know how many of you finish each day feeling as though you could have done more or better. And I want to encourage you that, despite what television, or movies, or Pinterest tells you, you ARE enough. Some nights, you may work late and send the husband for Taco Bell. You may miss a deadline or lose an account at work. You may hand your kids your iPhone while eating dinner at the Olive Garden just to get through the meal. And there is nothing more, or better, that you can do.
Today, I believe I am Wonder Woman. I have little to no evidence to refute that, so that settles it. At least for today, I AM Wonder Woman. Tomorrow, well, we'll see....
Monday, October 28, 2013
Monday, February 4, 2013
What the heck is wrong with me? Chapter 1.
I promise not all blogs on this subject will be this long or this heavy. Most will be funny anecdotes of my misadventures, tasty recipes, and new found resources. But this one had to come out. I hope you'll read and enjoy...
If you've followed my blog posts for any amount of time, you undoubtedly know two things about my writing... first, I write only on topics with which I am well acquainted. I don't entertain any notions that y'all have the desire to hear my ramblings on topics which I know little to nothing about. I am not a politician. Secondly, I write on topics that inspire and impassion me. Tonight is no exception...
This is for anyone who has ever thought to themselves, "this is just how I am going to feel. this is my normal." For anyone who has ever finished dinner out with friends and rushed home after, praying the cramping will hold off just long enough to get to the privacy of their own bathroom, or for those who were forced to visit the bathroom before they could even get out of the restaurant. This is for anyone who has made up excuses to avoid going out with friends, because saying "I just don't feel well" for the umpteenth time is just embarrassing. And for anyone who has ever wept while driving home from a doctor's appointment, haunted by the look on the doc's face as he told you, yet again, all tests were normal. For all those times you knew he thought it was all in your head, and all those times you wondered if he was right.
The first time I can remember thinking, "this must be how grown ups feel," I was 12 years old, laying in bed with nausea for who knows how many nights in a row. Looking back, I think I needed to normalize what I was feeling so that I would be, well, normal. I wasn't sick ALL the time, although it was certainly with more frequency than should ever be considered normal, but I certainly wasn't going to come forward with that and be different. So I convinced myself that everyone felt this way when they grew up. I struggled over the next few years with bouts of stomach flu and "food poisoning," with drastic weight gain and loss, with many nights spent on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, whether throwing up, waiting to, or simply wishing I could. My poor parents stood by baffled.
At 15, we got a diagnosis. Actually, we got three. I was depressed, I had anxiety, and as a result of those two, I had developed IBS. Essentially, this was the first time I felt as though I was being told "it's all in your head." It would not be the last. Over the last 12 years, I have ridden the roller coaster of feeling worse and feeling "better," gaining and losing large amounts of weight, changing diets - eliminating acidic foods, dairy, etc. I have often thought I should have purchased stock in Mylanta, as much as I have consumed. I have tried laxatives, fiber, pro-biotics, pre-biotics, anti-biotics, anti-spasmodics, anti-hystamines, antacids. All with temporary relief at best.
Until finally, at age 27, about 2 weeks ago, I got an answer that made sense. Well, not an answer. The "gold standard" tests are, *SURPRISE*, inconclusive. However, on a suggestion by my GI doctor, I have gone gluten free and feel as though I am finally finding my answer, regardless of what their tests say. But this is where I get hot. I have been vigilant in seeking the truth. I have spent countless hours researching - webmd, medical journals, message boards, articles, etc, etc, etc - logging my symptoms, not matter how small or insignificant, logging my foods, logging my environmental factors (detergents, lotions, fauna & flora). I have sought out holistic methods to treat digestive unrest, I have refused to accept "well we just don't know what it is" as an answer. I KNOW IT IS NOT IN MY HEAD.
Autoimmune disorders, many known as "invisible diseases," are among the highest rising diagnoses in America. Yet so little is still known about them. Celiac, Crohn's, Ulcerative Colitis, MS, Fibromyalgia, Lupus, Hashimoto's, and several others are diseases that can often be crippling, life altering to say the least. But the medical community still knows so little, and the general public knows much less. Well meaning friends and family say things like "Wow, it seems like you're always sick" or "You never feel good." It's said with concern, but it certainly isn't acknowledging anything we don't already know. We struggle with embarrassment, avoiding things we enjoy, whether it is because we can't venture too far from a restroom, or because pain inhibits us from doing even simple things, like walking. We hate to be the one at the table who always has to ask about ingredients and how things are prepared, or to be the one who dictates what/where we can eat, but we do not have a choice. We lose sleep to our symptoms, we miss days at the gym we know we would benefit from but we're just too tired. And when we present all this to our doctors, they shrug their shoulders, or prescribe another pill.
I pray that as my friends and family you will bear with me and support my efforts to not only become healthy, but also to learn more about why it is that I am sick, in hopes that my future will not be plagued with ailment. I would also pray that you would be willing to learn about these "invisible diseases," because I'd bet my butt that most of you know more people than you think who are fighting these battles. Be patient. We did not choose to be sick, but we are choosing to fight. To be healthier and stronger tomorrow than we are today by whatever means we can. We are not hypochondriacs, whiners, picky eaters, or attention whores. We are trying to love life, just like you. Our experience is just different.
If you've followed my blog posts for any amount of time, you undoubtedly know two things about my writing... first, I write only on topics with which I am well acquainted. I don't entertain any notions that y'all have the desire to hear my ramblings on topics which I know little to nothing about. I am not a politician. Secondly, I write on topics that inspire and impassion me. Tonight is no exception...
This is for anyone who has ever thought to themselves, "this is just how I am going to feel. this is my normal." For anyone who has ever finished dinner out with friends and rushed home after, praying the cramping will hold off just long enough to get to the privacy of their own bathroom, or for those who were forced to visit the bathroom before they could even get out of the restaurant. This is for anyone who has made up excuses to avoid going out with friends, because saying "I just don't feel well" for the umpteenth time is just embarrassing. And for anyone who has ever wept while driving home from a doctor's appointment, haunted by the look on the doc's face as he told you, yet again, all tests were normal. For all those times you knew he thought it was all in your head, and all those times you wondered if he was right.
The first time I can remember thinking, "this must be how grown ups feel," I was 12 years old, laying in bed with nausea for who knows how many nights in a row. Looking back, I think I needed to normalize what I was feeling so that I would be, well, normal. I wasn't sick ALL the time, although it was certainly with more frequency than should ever be considered normal, but I certainly wasn't going to come forward with that and be different. So I convinced myself that everyone felt this way when they grew up. I struggled over the next few years with bouts of stomach flu and "food poisoning," with drastic weight gain and loss, with many nights spent on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, whether throwing up, waiting to, or simply wishing I could. My poor parents stood by baffled.
At 15, we got a diagnosis. Actually, we got three. I was depressed, I had anxiety, and as a result of those two, I had developed IBS. Essentially, this was the first time I felt as though I was being told "it's all in your head." It would not be the last. Over the last 12 years, I have ridden the roller coaster of feeling worse and feeling "better," gaining and losing large amounts of weight, changing diets - eliminating acidic foods, dairy, etc. I have often thought I should have purchased stock in Mylanta, as much as I have consumed. I have tried laxatives, fiber, pro-biotics, pre-biotics, anti-biotics, anti-spasmodics, anti-hystamines, antacids. All with temporary relief at best.
Until finally, at age 27, about 2 weeks ago, I got an answer that made sense. Well, not an answer. The "gold standard" tests are, *SURPRISE*, inconclusive. However, on a suggestion by my GI doctor, I have gone gluten free and feel as though I am finally finding my answer, regardless of what their tests say. But this is where I get hot. I have been vigilant in seeking the truth. I have spent countless hours researching - webmd, medical journals, message boards, articles, etc, etc, etc - logging my symptoms, not matter how small or insignificant, logging my foods, logging my environmental factors (detergents, lotions, fauna & flora). I have sought out holistic methods to treat digestive unrest, I have refused to accept "well we just don't know what it is" as an answer. I KNOW IT IS NOT IN MY HEAD.
Autoimmune disorders, many known as "invisible diseases," are among the highest rising diagnoses in America. Yet so little is still known about them. Celiac, Crohn's, Ulcerative Colitis, MS, Fibromyalgia, Lupus, Hashimoto's, and several others are diseases that can often be crippling, life altering to say the least. But the medical community still knows so little, and the general public knows much less. Well meaning friends and family say things like "Wow, it seems like you're always sick" or "You never feel good." It's said with concern, but it certainly isn't acknowledging anything we don't already know. We struggle with embarrassment, avoiding things we enjoy, whether it is because we can't venture too far from a restroom, or because pain inhibits us from doing even simple things, like walking. We hate to be the one at the table who always has to ask about ingredients and how things are prepared, or to be the one who dictates what/where we can eat, but we do not have a choice. We lose sleep to our symptoms, we miss days at the gym we know we would benefit from but we're just too tired. And when we present all this to our doctors, they shrug their shoulders, or prescribe another pill.
I pray that as my friends and family you will bear with me and support my efforts to not only become healthy, but also to learn more about why it is that I am sick, in hopes that my future will not be plagued with ailment. I would also pray that you would be willing to learn about these "invisible diseases," because I'd bet my butt that most of you know more people than you think who are fighting these battles. Be patient. We did not choose to be sick, but we are choosing to fight. To be healthier and stronger tomorrow than we are today by whatever means we can. We are not hypochondriacs, whiners, picky eaters, or attention whores. We are trying to love life, just like you. Our experience is just different.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Tonight I Feel Angry (and a collection of other things it's OK to say to your significant other)...
Looking back on my younger years, I could spend countless hours dissecting all of the bad decisions, compromises, and flat out mistakes i made in a futile attempt to discover why i spent so much time in and out of relationships that were well, bad. Entertaining though that may be, I can't see the value in mulling over my various missteps. However, as I find myself preparing to commit myself to Jesse from now to eternity, I do find value in analyzing my experiences in hopes that I won't be making any of the same missteps in the future (I would definitely like to keep this one)...
In considering my experiences, and the experiences of those around me (in both good, and not so good, relationships) I have come to conclude that whoever once stated that communication was the key to a solid relationship knew what they were talking about. I recall distinctly, in my naive mind, believing several years ago that, of all of my friends, I was unquestionably in the best relationship. I listened night after night as friends talked about the various fights eroding their relationships; fights over jealousy, money, attention, etc. I remember thinking, with a smug sense of superiority, how my boyfriend and I never fought, which surely meant that our relationship was a cut above the rest. In hindsight, what I discovered was a shocking truth that revealed volumes to me about myself and how I viewed relationships. Honestly, we never fought, but this was not because we never disagreed, never frustrated one another, never got upset. We never fought because I never allowed us to fight. I swallowed my opinions, suppressed my dissensions, and conceded my wants and needs to insure that fighting would have no place in our relationship. What this really meant was that I, essentially, had no place in our relationship. There was no relationship.
This realization got me thinking. What would I have done differently if I had it to do over? What would I have said or not said? What would I do differently in the future to commit myself to helping my relationships thrive? Please understand, I am in no way suggesting that a relationship must having fighting to thrive, I am simply suggesting that suppressing your thoughts and opinions because you are afraid that what you have to say might upset your significant other is the quickest way to set yourself up for heartache. A relationship needs communication, and these are some of things I know now I can, and should, communicate (and i will still have a loving fiancee in the morning)...
1. Tonight, I feel angry.
There is no doubt, at some point or another, your significant other will make you angry. You've asked nicely a million times for him not to do leave the dishwasher open, and yet you still trip over it in the middle of the night when you go to get a glass of water. He burns his hand on your curling iron after reminding you countless mornings not to leave it on. (hypothetical examples, i swear) Especially if you are sharing a home, please hear me: you WILL make. each other. angry. Anger is a healthy human emotion, and can be experienced, and conveyed within a relationship without disrespecting one another. Expressing to your significant other the things they do/don't do or say/don't say that make you angry gives them the opportunity to make changes where they deem necessary in order to support you.
2. I need help.
For some reason, this is often the hardest one for people to confess, even to their significant others. Sure, we are raised to be strong and independent, self-sufficient. But a relationship is a partnership, and if I have learned anything, it's that partnerships fail if both parts are attempting to succeed alone. Whether what you need is help cleaning the house, help finding the courage to start a new career, help to achieve a goal, etc... what your partnership means, especially if that partnership is a marriage, is that you no longer need to go it alone. Ask for help.
3. I disagree.
Love does not mean the two of you are committed to the same opinion of everything forever and ever amen. Good God. How utterly boring would that be? "I like fried chicken." "Me too." ""I only vote republican." "Me too." "I think Mark Wahlberg is super sexy." "Me too." WHAT??? So. boring. Variety is the spice of life, so they say, and all of the things you like and don't like is what initially drew you to one another. So why is it that we think that the best thing we can do to avoid conflict in our relationships is to agree with everything our significant other says or does? I grew up a Dodgers fan; I bleed Dodger blue. Loosely translated, I HATE the SF Giants. So, God made Jesse a Giants fan. Sure makes baseball season an adventure in our house. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
4. I would rather you didn't.
Ladies, it's Saturday morning, you haven't seen each other for more than 20 minutes all week, you know this morning is the only time you'll probably have together for another week, and he says he wants to go to the golf course for a few hours. Guys, you've been watching your finances very closely in saving for a trip you two have planned next month, and she says she wants to buy the $250 boots she's been eyeing at Macy's. It is ok to express your reservations or objections to a choice your significant other makes! I do recommend you evaluate your motivations as to why you object, and make sure that you are not being overly selfish or irrational, but if you would rather your significant other not do something, tell them. If you don't, it will surely become the elephant in the room later, and elephants are really hard to get rid of.
5. I don't feel like it today.
You had a rough day at work followed by an hour and a half in traffic, you think you might be getting the flu, but your significant other wants to fool around. You were hoping to spend all day saturday watching movies and relaxing in your pj's, and your significant other wants you to go to their brother and sister-in-law's house (they have 4 kids all under the age of 6). Some days, you're just not up for whatever 'fun' your significant other may have planned, sometimes without telling you. Sometimes, it is your job as a spouse to suck it up and 'take one for the team', so to speak. Other times, for your own sanity, it is your job to say, "not today." In respecting your own needs, you are respecting your significant other. If you aren't into it, but do it anyway, trust me, it will show.
6. I'm scared.
It's human nature; we are afraid of things. Women, we've been conditioned to believe that fear is acceptable in some facets while not in others. Men, you've been conditioned to believe that fear is never acceptable. Well, it's all bologna, and if there is one person you can turn to and admit when you are afraid, it is your significant other. The doctors found something abnormal and want to run tests; you've been offered a job you're not certain you can handle in a city where you know no one; things have felt strained between you and your spouse, and you are afraid of what that could mean. I do not know where we developed the sense that our job is to be "strong" for our spouses, but when you allow yourself to be vulnerable, you allow yourself to be comforted and loved. You open lines of communication, you discover that someone shares, or at very least understands, your fears. You begin to develop a plan to address the things that are frightening. In short, you are no longer alone.
Certainly, there are others, perhaps to be discussed at a later date in another blog, but this begins the collection. As always, I do not claim to be any sort of expert on the topic, and I am always open to the thoughts, feelings, and opinions of others on any topic. Not an expert, just a silly girl with a busy mind, who is blessed enough to be loved by an amazing man and a loving God.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
The Proposal (aka: Ignorance is bliss, aka: clueless, aka: "what are you doing?"
So, i have had requests from many of you wanting details on how this all went down, so now that i have internet (FINALLY!) and some free time on my hands, without further ado...
First things first, this story requires a bit of a prologue, so to speak...
I am fairly certain that if you asked both Jesse and myself to identify at what moment we knew this was "it", you'd get slight variations, but there would be one underlying theme - by the end of date one, there was very little doubt in either of our minds. He swears he knew in late November after reading the infamous facebook post (yes, FB was the beginning of the story of us). I was a little tardy to the party, (we were well into the 12th hour of our first date before i was aware it was a date), but by the time he leaned in and kissed me good night, i knew. And so it began, the story of us.
Now, if you don't know Jesse, he's a bit of a romantic (at this point, in order to redeem his manly image, i will also inform you that he is also a fountain of sports knowledge, loves red meat, and can burp the alphabet - ok so maybe i'm exaggerating on the last one, but you get the picture). Despite the fact that we have been talking about our future together since oh, a month or two into our relationship, one thing that Jesse expressed to me was that when it came to a proposal and a ring, he was concerned about the element of surprise he felt may have been eliminated due to the nature of our relationship. I tried in earnest to assure him i would be shocked, and would indeed cry, when it happened, but he didn't seem satisfied with that answer.
I tried to bring up the topic less and less, although around every bend i was being reminded that i was allowing him to whisk me away to Texas (yes, Jess, i capitalized the T) without that shiny little rock on my left hand. I never doubted Jesse's committment to me and to our future, so I had no qualms about planning a move prior to a wedding, and so, that is exactly what we did. From March to August, any additional money we took in that wasn't previously allotted to bills or debts or necessities was stashed into the Austin fund. In my mind, every penny was accounted for coming in and going out, and there weren't any pennies to be found for a diamond ring. Ultimately, i imagined a proposal would come once we had been settle in Austin and Jesse had had sufficient time to save...
In the few weeks leading up to our move, i can see now so clearly some of the neon signs i completely missed. Texts and/or comments from my best friend (thanks, aims) that seemed a bit out of place, walking in and being shooed out as Jesse "planned a birthday surprise", Jesse calling my dad, etc... BUT, i was, as always, oblivious. Completely oblivious. So when we discussed heading to the beach way early before our going away party to enjoy a california sunrise one last time, i didn't give it a second thought. I had no clue what it was he had up his sleeve (well, actually it was hiding in his golf bag. He knew i'd never look there).
Early on the morning of August 11, Jesse and I got up and drove out to Corona Del Mar, where all our friends would be joining us to celebrate our going away and my 27th birthday. To our surprise, there was a line to get into the beach at 6AM!!! While Jesse had expected 3-4 stray people on the beach, leaving us alone to have our moment, we instead found ourselfves with about 15-20 other beachgoers, and the number was rising quickly. It seemed as though Jesse's romantic plans were being crowded out. We decided to leave our stuff with a friendly gentleman watching the pit next to ours while we walked down by the water's edge to enjoy the sunrise in a bit of peace and quiet, and walked down to where we could be alone. At that point Jesse started talking about the move and the stress of it all and how certain he was that we could make it... and then he got down on one knee...
What happened then? Well, in classic, clueless Amanda fashion, I believe my exact words were "What are you doing?" followed shortly thereafter by tears, and an emphatic yes of course, i will! At which point i heard the clicking shutter of a camera, which is possibly the coolest part of our story. A man walking on the beach noticed Jesse down on one knee and took it upon himself to snap some pictures, capturing the moment with his phone, which he then texted to us so we could always remember that moment. And somehow people can claim there is no God. Coincidence, my rear.
And the rest, as they say, is history...........
First things first, this story requires a bit of a prologue, so to speak...
I am fairly certain that if you asked both Jesse and myself to identify at what moment we knew this was "it", you'd get slight variations, but there would be one underlying theme - by the end of date one, there was very little doubt in either of our minds. He swears he knew in late November after reading the infamous facebook post (yes, FB was the beginning of the story of us). I was a little tardy to the party, (we were well into the 12th hour of our first date before i was aware it was a date), but by the time he leaned in and kissed me good night, i knew. And so it began, the story of us.
Now, if you don't know Jesse, he's a bit of a romantic (at this point, in order to redeem his manly image, i will also inform you that he is also a fountain of sports knowledge, loves red meat, and can burp the alphabet - ok so maybe i'm exaggerating on the last one, but you get the picture). Despite the fact that we have been talking about our future together since oh, a month or two into our relationship, one thing that Jesse expressed to me was that when it came to a proposal and a ring, he was concerned about the element of surprise he felt may have been eliminated due to the nature of our relationship. I tried in earnest to assure him i would be shocked, and would indeed cry, when it happened, but he didn't seem satisfied with that answer.
I tried to bring up the topic less and less, although around every bend i was being reminded that i was allowing him to whisk me away to Texas (yes, Jess, i capitalized the T) without that shiny little rock on my left hand. I never doubted Jesse's committment to me and to our future, so I had no qualms about planning a move prior to a wedding, and so, that is exactly what we did. From March to August, any additional money we took in that wasn't previously allotted to bills or debts or necessities was stashed into the Austin fund. In my mind, every penny was accounted for coming in and going out, and there weren't any pennies to be found for a diamond ring. Ultimately, i imagined a proposal would come once we had been settle in Austin and Jesse had had sufficient time to save...
In the few weeks leading up to our move, i can see now so clearly some of the neon signs i completely missed. Texts and/or comments from my best friend (thanks, aims) that seemed a bit out of place, walking in and being shooed out as Jesse "planned a birthday surprise", Jesse calling my dad, etc... BUT, i was, as always, oblivious. Completely oblivious. So when we discussed heading to the beach way early before our going away party to enjoy a california sunrise one last time, i didn't give it a second thought. I had no clue what it was he had up his sleeve (well, actually it was hiding in his golf bag. He knew i'd never look there).
Early on the morning of August 11, Jesse and I got up and drove out to Corona Del Mar, where all our friends would be joining us to celebrate our going away and my 27th birthday. To our surprise, there was a line to get into the beach at 6AM!!! While Jesse had expected 3-4 stray people on the beach, leaving us alone to have our moment, we instead found ourselfves with about 15-20 other beachgoers, and the number was rising quickly. It seemed as though Jesse's romantic plans were being crowded out. We decided to leave our stuff with a friendly gentleman watching the pit next to ours while we walked down by the water's edge to enjoy the sunrise in a bit of peace and quiet, and walked down to where we could be alone. At that point Jesse started talking about the move and the stress of it all and how certain he was that we could make it... and then he got down on one knee...
What happened then? Well, in classic, clueless Amanda fashion, I believe my exact words were "What are you doing?" followed shortly thereafter by tears, and an emphatic yes of course, i will! At which point i heard the clicking shutter of a camera, which is possibly the coolest part of our story. A man walking on the beach noticed Jesse down on one knee and took it upon himself to snap some pictures, capturing the moment with his phone, which he then texted to us so we could always remember that moment. And somehow people can claim there is no God. Coincidence, my rear.
And the rest, as they say, is history...........
Thursday, April 26, 2012
amanda's (not so) scientific evaluation of calories...
raise your hand if you ever have been, or currently are, on a "diet" (this includes all of you who are "changing your lifestyle", "watching your weight", "trying to lose a few", "cutting carbs", "getting healthy", etc, etc, etc...). while i would bet almost every one of you reading this just raised your hand, i would challenge those few of you who didn't to keep reading; there's a good chance you will be someday...
being that almost everyone is "dieting" in some form or another these days, it seemed appropriate to me that i should share some advice on how to manage the dreaded 'c' word: CALORIES... (cue dramatic music). so, here it is. my (not so) scientific evaluation of calories...
And, last but not least...
being that almost everyone is "dieting" in some form or another these days, it seemed appropriate to me that i should share some advice on how to manage the dreaded 'c' word: CALORIES... (cue dramatic music). so, here it is. my (not so) scientific evaluation of calories...
- Vacation calories do not count. Don't believe me? In 2009, I spent a week on a cruise ship while dieting. My goal was simply to maintain my loss and not to gain. I ate, I drank, I enjoyed. And I'll be darned, I came back 4 lbs lighter. Then, in February of this year, I traveled to Hawaii. Yet again, eating, drinking, merriment. Came back 1.5 lbs lighter. Trust me friends, calories consumed while on vacation = FREE.
- Birthday calories do not count. That is, calories consumed in celebration of your own birthday do not count. However, for those of you who celebrate your birthdays for a week (or the better part of a month in some cases), tread carefully. Calories consumed in denial of your current progressing age are also free.
- Fellowship calories do not count. Latte and a donut after church on Sunday? God's got it. Bible study over chips and dip and fresh baked brownies (or whatever other high fat, high calorie treat the skinny girl in your bible study group brought)? Yep, God's got those too. Yet another reason to thank God.
- Bedroom calories do not count. Calories consumed in the midst of bedroom adventures (chocolate sauce, whipped cream, strawberries, champagne, or whatever other accoutrement you crazy kids are into) are, you guessed it, FREE. 20 bucks says you'll be burning any of those calories off anyway.
- Break up calories do not count. Refer to the '5 days of fat' in "what to do when your knight in shining armor turns out to be a doofus in tin foil". All those calories are burned mending your broken heart. Promise.
And, last but not least...
- Happiness calories do not count. If you enjoyed steak and lobster with friends, ice cream with your children, cheesecake with your mom, a cheeseburger with your love, or anything that brought you true joy, the calories most certainly do not count. The time spent surrounded by friends and loved ones and the happiness therein easily cancels out any potential damage to your diet.
Monday, February 20, 2012
if you're really ready to meet prince charming, it's time to stop kissing frogs...
as predicted, a second installment in a theory on love and relationships from a pseudo-jaded and yet wholly optimistic twenty-something. funny, the evolution of perspective as the heart heals and and finds fulfillment...
so... truth be told, we aren't getting any younger.
*GASP*
yep, i went there. and since the clocks won't be ticking backward anytime in the near future, we don't really have much choice but to move forward. and if we were married, and having children, and driving carpool on tuesday and thursday mornings, this wouldn't be nearly as terrifying, right? I mean, since we're quickly approaching (thirty) and not married, this leaves our entire future and existence in a state of limbo, doesn't it? surely there is something wrong with us...
i'd be willing to bet the previous thought process, or some variation thereof, has entered the mind of every single female in her twenties at some point (ladies, i want to be clear, 'single' in this case is defined as not married, NOT to be confused with alone). we see our friends settling in, settling down, or heck, let's face it, just plain settling, and we wonder why not us.
please do not mistake these meandering thoughts as any attempt at expert analysis or advice. but, if i have learned anything over the last few years, with the culmination of my "knowledge" developing over the last 6 weeks or so, it is this: If you are truly ready to meet prince charming, it is time to stop kissing frogs.
so, what the heck does that mean? ladies (and gentlemen) i propose the following suggestions... take them as you will...
Your worth is not defined by how "hot" guys think you are, a number on a scale, a bra size, how many men "want" you, how small your jeans are, etc. Stop thinking, talking, and acting as if it is. Wait for a man who knows, and who finds ways to remind you, that your worth lies at the core of who you are, and that your defining features are your heart, soul, and mind, NOT your 'T & A'.
Negativity breeds negativity, and positivity breeds positivity. Don't believe me? Try this: for one whole week, every time you think a negative thought, replace it with a positive thought. You will feel better, and people around you will take notice. Then, surround yourself with other positive people. (Once you've made your own changes, this will come easily) Wait for a man who feeds off of, and into, your positive attitude.
Stop settling. Stop settling. Stop settling. If you have thought anything similar to "well, i guess that only happens in the movies," "i guess that's just old fashioned," "i guess guys like that don't really exist," i am here to suggest that you are, indeed, settling. STOP. you deserve to have all of those 'little things' and chivalry is NOT dead. Stop settling for less than you deserve (which, in case you forgot, is only the best). Wait for a man who offers the best of himself in the big and small things.
Find a man who makes you better by knowing him. If he leads you in anyway to compromise who you are or what you value, do not walk away. RUN. Prince charming should challenge you (in a good way), motivate you, and inspire you. He should never NEVER tear you down, manipulate you, or discourage your dreams.
Love, and let yourself be loved (the latter part of this statement is more important than you think). You are worthy of a 'love of a lifetime'; let it happen. Do not allow your fears, insecurities, and doubts to keep you from revelling in what God has prepared for you. Do not question WHY he loves you, do not over-analyze HOW he loves you, just let him LOVE you. 'The greatest of these is love...'
And last but not least, when you find yourself lucky enough to have found prince charming, remember that it's his fairy tale, too. He's been waiting and praying and wishing on stars for you, too. After all, happily ever after was meant to be together <3
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
what to do when your knight in shining armor turns out to be a doofus in tin foil...
This may be the first of several installments on surviving the single life from the point of view of a slightly jaded twenty-something... I've got more than a little insight into the subject, especially over the last few years...
So, Mr. Right turned out to be Mr. Liar, Mr. Cheater, Mr. Non-committal, Mr. Emotionally Unavailable, Mr. Codependent, Mr. Empty Promises, Mr. Psychologically Unstable, Mr. Immature, Mr. Unemployable, Mr. Jealous, Mr. Everything-But-Right... First of all, let me say, welcome to the club. You are in excellent company, rest assured. Secondly, allow me to propose some suggestions (from my own twisted experiences) for survival. Afterall, you CAN and WILL survive; more than survive, you will THRIVE.
Survival tip #1... I call this '5 days of fat'... giggle if you will, but i swear by it. It works. Allow yourself 5 days (no more, no less) to lose a litle control. Eat whatever you want (most likely, this will be LOTS and LOTS of carbs), skip the gym if you feel like it, curl up on the couch with a pint of ben and jerries, don't shave your legs, wear your saggy shapeless sweats, etc. DO NOT beat yourself up for this; you are entitled to grieve. Remember though, this is for only 5 days. At the end of 5 days, you resume the awesome-ness that is you.
Survival tip #2... SHOP. Buy something cute, something fun, something fancy, something you never would have worn with your ex, something youve always been intrigued by but never had the guts to rock, whatever makes you HAPPY. I wholly encourage a purchase that excentuates your favorite features... it will remind you of just how smokin hot you are, and how huge a loss it is FOR HIM.
Survival tip #3... CRY. Your friends, family, coworkers, whatever, will all say he isn't worth the tears. They are correct. However, the chapter of your life that is closing and the parts of yourself that you selflessly gave to him are worth mourning, and crying is a perfectly healthy release. Don't overdo it. I try to keep my tears within my 5 days of fat (see tip #1).
Survival tip #4... Re-connect... So, truth is, to some extent, we are all guilty. We meet a man, we get a little twitterpated, we want to spend more time with him. As a result, we skip girls' night this week, we forget to return calls to our girl friends, to an extent we lose touch with our friends (who, lest we forget, have been our support group long before the newest beau and who will be there long after he has gone). Now is the time to remember why they have stayed no matter how many men have come and gone. Offer to host a girls' night at your place, invite your girl friends out for drinks, simply call and catch up. You'd be there for them, let them be there for you.
Survival tip #5... Take some time to remember all of the reasons you are amazing. Because no matter what happened with Mr. Nope, YOU ARE AMAZING. Pat yourself on the back for all of the accomplishments you have been downplaying. Make a list of all the reasons any man would be lucky to have you (and believe that any man would indeed be lucky to have you). Get up each morning, look in the mirror, and tell yourself something like 'Good morning beautiful girl" and BELIEVE it.
Survival tip #6... Do not, and i repeat, DO NOT rebound, call up old boyfriends, have a one-night stand. Sure, if you feel ready, get back out there and allow the male population the opportunity to prove they arent all the same. Don't entirely close yourself off to all possibilities (God works in funny funny ways), but be smart and respect yourself. Sleeping with some guy you meet in a bar may make you feel sexy and desirable and adventurous tonight, but we all know it will leave you feeling empty and trashy and worthless tomorrow morning. SO NOT WORTH IT. You love you too much for that.
Survival tip #7... Pray. Maybe even ask others to help you out and pray for you. It's amazing what a little prayer can do for your peace of mind. Life may suck, but God is still good.
Like i said, maybe the first installment... as i progress through the stages of heartbreak and self-discovery, I may find myself having more epiphanies I care to share. Now to work on taking my own advice....
So, Mr. Right turned out to be Mr. Liar, Mr. Cheater, Mr. Non-committal, Mr. Emotionally Unavailable, Mr. Codependent, Mr. Empty Promises, Mr. Psychologically Unstable, Mr. Immature, Mr. Unemployable, Mr. Jealous, Mr. Everything-But-Right... First of all, let me say, welcome to the club. You are in excellent company, rest assured. Secondly, allow me to propose some suggestions (from my own twisted experiences) for survival. Afterall, you CAN and WILL survive; more than survive, you will THRIVE.
Survival tip #1... I call this '5 days of fat'... giggle if you will, but i swear by it. It works. Allow yourself 5 days (no more, no less) to lose a litle control. Eat whatever you want (most likely, this will be LOTS and LOTS of carbs), skip the gym if you feel like it, curl up on the couch with a pint of ben and jerries, don't shave your legs, wear your saggy shapeless sweats, etc. DO NOT beat yourself up for this; you are entitled to grieve. Remember though, this is for only 5 days. At the end of 5 days, you resume the awesome-ness that is you.
Survival tip #2... SHOP. Buy something cute, something fun, something fancy, something you never would have worn with your ex, something youve always been intrigued by but never had the guts to rock, whatever makes you HAPPY. I wholly encourage a purchase that excentuates your favorite features... it will remind you of just how smokin hot you are, and how huge a loss it is FOR HIM.
Survival tip #3... CRY. Your friends, family, coworkers, whatever, will all say he isn't worth the tears. They are correct. However, the chapter of your life that is closing and the parts of yourself that you selflessly gave to him are worth mourning, and crying is a perfectly healthy release. Don't overdo it. I try to keep my tears within my 5 days of fat (see tip #1).
Survival tip #4... Re-connect... So, truth is, to some extent, we are all guilty. We meet a man, we get a little twitterpated, we want to spend more time with him. As a result, we skip girls' night this week, we forget to return calls to our girl friends, to an extent we lose touch with our friends (who, lest we forget, have been our support group long before the newest beau and who will be there long after he has gone). Now is the time to remember why they have stayed no matter how many men have come and gone. Offer to host a girls' night at your place, invite your girl friends out for drinks, simply call and catch up. You'd be there for them, let them be there for you.
Survival tip #5... Take some time to remember all of the reasons you are amazing. Because no matter what happened with Mr. Nope, YOU ARE AMAZING. Pat yourself on the back for all of the accomplishments you have been downplaying. Make a list of all the reasons any man would be lucky to have you (and believe that any man would indeed be lucky to have you). Get up each morning, look in the mirror, and tell yourself something like 'Good morning beautiful girl" and BELIEVE it.
Survival tip #6... Do not, and i repeat, DO NOT rebound, call up old boyfriends, have a one-night stand. Sure, if you feel ready, get back out there and allow the male population the opportunity to prove they arent all the same. Don't entirely close yourself off to all possibilities (God works in funny funny ways), but be smart and respect yourself. Sleeping with some guy you meet in a bar may make you feel sexy and desirable and adventurous tonight, but we all know it will leave you feeling empty and trashy and worthless tomorrow morning. SO NOT WORTH IT. You love you too much for that.
Survival tip #7... Pray. Maybe even ask others to help you out and pray for you. It's amazing what a little prayer can do for your peace of mind. Life may suck, but God is still good.
Like i said, maybe the first installment... as i progress through the stages of heartbreak and self-discovery, I may find myself having more epiphanies I care to share. Now to work on taking my own advice....
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