Someday, this will be normal

That's a nice photo isn't it? It's Sgt. Hall and the wee Mac. He's now retired from the Air National Guard. He is home all the time now, which is a new normal. Which means I'm free to never again schedule our lives around guard drill weekends, two week guard excursions or tours in Iraq. It's a nice, new normal. Awesome even.

Also, health wise, things are getting back to normal. I've been stalling in fits and starts with my new healthiness. Losing and gaining the same 10 lbs over and over again. I made an appt with a dietitian and realized that I need to be more responsible. I'm logging my food at sparkpeople.com (it's free) and getting back to reality.

The reality is, is that I have no idea how to eat healthy. It's like building this whole new skill set. I'm learning that my entire diet cannot be centered around lean cuisine meals and diet coke. Learning that I don't have to do things I use to-- but how I use to do things was so normal. And this is how I came to be 172 lbs. I'm now down to 168. I say this on purpose. I don't like saying it , but saying it is one of the ways I can keep accountable.

Oddly enough, the more I keep track of my food, the less I think about it.

It's still kind of weird, not eating my former staples. It's odd not craving sweets or rummaging through the fridge for a late night snack. Also, I don't eat out anymore. That is just sad! Well not sad, just not worth it. There are no restaurants that serve quality choices on the healthy side of the menu. It's all fake sugar and low fat blandness. Nobody can do a decent salad around here without it being bullshit iceberg lettuce and a single sad tomato.

Then there are the social gatherings. I eat a balanced yummy dinner before the pizza parties and potato bar bonanzas. My absolute adoration for diet coke has now faded into a nostalgic murmur. I really like drinking water. I focus on chatting with the others during these gatherings. It makes them more fun really. In fact, I'm having more fun overall. :)

Which is fine.

I give up. I'll eat the earthy bounty before me so that I may enjoy the taste of life. I'll exercise not to get in shape but to thrive in my life. And soon, these habits won't be so strange. Someday, this will be normal. :)

Shrinkage and the double w

The double w is much cooler than saying Weight Watchers, I think.

Regardless of what I call it, I am back in its folds, surrendered once again.

And sure nuff, two weeks in, five pounds gone.

It's not really magic, this program.

Basically, it works under a system of points. The points can be thought of as dollars. I get 20 dollars/day to spend on the food I eat. After I eat, I enter the food into the log and viola! I see how much things cost.

It is a process of cutting through years of bullshitting myself in less than 2 seconds flat.

Instant truth I tell ya. And sometimes, the truth ain't pretty.

For instance, let's look at these staples from the Mrs. Hall diet:

*One three musketeer's bar-6 points

*One mac donald's egg mc muffin with sausage-11 points

*One serving pancakes from a restaurant-9 points

*Spaghetti with meatballs and tomato sauce-16 points

Ponder that for a minute. Again, you get 20 points per day. This program introduced me to the idea of spending wisely, of getting the most for every penny I spend.

Sure, you get an extra 35 points, waiting in the background that you can spend throughout the week.

But still. Holy good God, what was I eating before?

After a while, I can't help but feel there is a conspiracy out there to keep me and the rest of America chubby. The more I look, the more I see. It is fascinating and irritating all at the same time.

But, this is the state of American fast and cheep cuisine. The food is all swaddled in blankets of fat and salt. This trains me to crave fat and salt. But, I am now saying, in the politest possible way, fuck you.

Fuck you stupid fatty food.

I am much better than all of it. I am a bonifide babe after all.

Thus, I am learning, relearning and growing.

For instance:

*Egg muffin, better'n eggs, wide slivers of sharp cheddar cheese and- 6 points

*4 Kashi pancakes (from their mix), smuckers sugar free syrup (delicious btw), and a touch of I can't believe it's not butter -7 points

*Spaghetti prepared healthily -5 points

*And that three musketeer's bar? Well, that I still enjoy, only about once a month.

See that, all of this means something. Means something less I mean. And when things are less, they matter more. My food is tastier and sexier. It's true.

Now, one can gain points by exercising. Which is the next part of all this. Well, the next part is to implement consistency in my exercising.

Cause dammit, the shit of it is, now that I have lost five points, my daily point allowance went down to 19.

Grrrr……! It is frustrating, letting go and giving in to the system. It is a matter of dropping huge chunks of pride from my ego.

I think I need a drink.

And hey, a cosmopolitan, why that is only four points, WEE HEE!!!

The care and feeding of Mrs. Hall, a testimony

This is a long post. It was sparked by my rejoining weight watchers and receiving a compliment by an elderly gentleman on Sunday. Come with me now, as I testify.

I can't quite trace where it began, but somewhere along the line, I became unaffected by my appearance. I can tell you that concern for one's appearance was not encouraged where I grew up. Too bourgeois.

There was also the issue of my intentional separation from others. Of course, this began around age 15. I used my punk and feminist energy as a tool to slice others out of my life. It is rather liberating, shaving one's head, running around all crazy thrift store clothes. Looking all feral and Bjork. Again, I was beholden to no one. It is a power, this punk. But, it is a false power. A power to push away, to divide, a power rooted in the devil of selfishness and anger.

This type of power attracted the appopropriate people. Mostly thugs, confidence men and psychopaths. They had no prospect or way of sustaining a place in my life. I didn't realize it at the time, but I had created a complete and self-reproducing chaos. Which was part of my plan, to be a total anarchist. After all, if no one is in your life, you have no laws, no rules of engagement. There was no love there, no caring, no grace of God.

Eventually, my need for isolation faded. And I found this man, this Mr. Hall. I quit smoking for him. During our first week of courting no less. I began to feel his love. I began to heal. And I shed so much weight, so much anger and chaos. I felt the power of love, I began to strike the devil down.



I feel whole these days. This allows me to dress and behave like a full grown and attractive woman. This attractiveness, this care of and tending to what I look like, is healing. It is changing me. I use tools to further my pretty. These tools include a wonder bra, a heated eye lash curler, stylish clothes, and weight watchers. They are powerful, these tools. As powerful as the hand of providence. Can I get an Amen ladies?

This is where the rubber hits the road, so to speak, in this post. After all, all this talk of my outside means something very real, to the inside of me. And the inside of me, had a triumph recently.

Last Sunday, I went out for pancakes. I put on make up, intentionally. I did look good and smiled a lot. While we were waiting for our table, a gentleman of 70 years sat beside me. "I thought sitting next to you would improve my appearance" he said with a wink. He was resplendent in his pastel driving cap. His camel hair coat and wing tips were most fitting for a man of his vintage.

I was tickled by all of this. I did not feel automatic danger. There was no automatic bristling of my bones.

I was further warmed by the fact that his wife (also in her seventies) and their kids and grandkids were milling about. This is a nice man, I thought, paying me a compliment. And I received this as it was intended, warmly.

And I feel secure with all this healing. I feel the power of who I am. And now it's my turn to spread the good word. To shout out the joy of pure health.

I am healed Lord! Hallelujah! I CAN WALK AGAIN!!

Wednesday's Shrinkage and Word Association: Elevate

"Chocolate Moose"-get it? (hee hee)

This week, it's a twofer.


Update on the health efforts and word association. (if you would like to leave a word to be associated with, please leave one in the comments :)

(Apologies for the length.)

Word associated: Elevate
Suggested by: James

The word elevate is a nice one. It makes me think of lifting or raising up. Which leads me to the word 'ambition'. Which I never thought applied to me.

Yet, there is evidence to the contrary.

When I decided to become a nurse, I knew I would become one. Yet still, I was a lazy student. I worked hard, learned what I needed to learn. And somewhere along the line, "nurse" was cemented into my DNA.

As such, when I went back to become a nurse practitioner, I found myself in the same pattern of learning because it was required to learn. There was passion for nursing, but not for most aspects of learning.

Until . . . . . .


I steered my attention to psychiatric nursing. I was lit up with such fervor I could have powered Las Vegas. And it was hard, switching to psychiatric care. Psychiatric nursing is like no other type of nursing. Completely foreign to me. I struggled and stumbled at first. A lot of struggle and stumbling. But dammit.

Failure was not even remotely possible. I absolutely knew I had the chops to thrive and grow in this field of nursing. I worked very, very hard. And then, I worked even harder. And here I am, a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner. Not too shabby.

This was my first brush with ambition, seeking to elevate myself.

Before this, I think of how it came about that I met Mr. Hall. I remember wanting to become a wife and a mother. I opened 'yahoo' personal ad. I scanned the other ads like job applicants. This is one of keys to the successful marriage before me. Picking the absolutely right guy.

And then my kids. I know the exact hour they were conceived. When I was given the green light, I tracked my ovulation in all the ways one can. It has been the only time in my marriage when I've had to wake my husband up, rouse him from a dead sleep even, to get the job done. Twice a day at times. Honestly, I overpowered his libido. This was unheard of before or since. But, once the green light apears again, well, it's on.

And now, I seek to elevate my health. My next goal is to tap into my ambition. I have already used some to learn how to cook. Really cook. With spices and everything. I am learning how to chop, sauté, mix vegetables and sauces. I am learning how to use spices to give my dishes flavor that lingers and loves.

During all of this, my mom is being a shithead. Well, sometimes. She rolls her eyes, makes comments and generally displays her disdain for the way I cook. She feels it is a rejection of her. Which it is really. Well, not her, but the fact that she was 253 lbs at my wedding. My kids will not know how that feels.

Now, let me pull back. The goal of working out. I must use my passion to get there. I can visualize the results, know they are completely achievable. And fucking get out of here and kick some ass.

Posting about shrinkage, getting all writery this week

This is Geology Joe. This photo, as well as others featuring his out door activities inspired me to write this post. It kind of breaks my heart a little.

(If you go to his site, check out the archives for 2005-2006. Lots of inspiring photos.)


For this Wednesday, I want to discuss how we come about becoming what we are. Specifically, the influence of geographical location.

If you poke around in the archives, you can surmise that I live in a place that is cold and gets very snowy this time of year. This is where I was born, this is where I live. When I survey the land, I see others just like me. We rub our hands, cup them over our mouths and blow. We stomp our boots as we enter the building. We swear at the weather man.

The cars we drive are coated white with salt. It is too cold to wash them; the water would freeze to the doors, the locks, the underpinnings. I am ever so thankful though, I have heated leather seats. This makes life better in ways I cannot articulate.

Despite the inner warmth of buildings and homes, our bodies are still holding tight, cramped up, conserving energy. All of this cold leads to a largely interior life, staying in buildings, staying in houses, staying inside. Movement is limited. Life often follows suit.

I can't help but feel restless and wanting to seek out. Yet I am tethered to two tiny children. When I consider going, searching out, they will be coming with me. This is paramount as I work through the next step.

Here is family. Despite what they lack, they still have better than nothing. The unending needs of my tiny babies are insurmountable without the help of others. Family is a special type of others, filled with automatic care and attention. From the view of a child, being loved by all angles is what life is all about.

Yet how do I reconcile the need to explore, to feel and be changed by a different topography? To see mountains, to see oceans, to see life I've never known.

I am changed by my recent and ongoing actions. With the influx of foods near the form they were born, with the influx of bodily movement and recovery. I am changing despite my shelter bound life. There is so much to see, to feel, to know. I want my tiny kids to know more. I want them to live outside this boxed in state.

The thing is, what decisions any of us make, has consequences. The decisions I make have consequences to everything that is attached to me. This includes my practice, my kids and Mr. Hall. My husband and kids are part of this, even at the thinking stage.

Even just thinking these thoughts, letting them bubble to the surface, is dangerous.

After all, when I ask myself what I want, I will have to answer.

Drunk blogging about Lost and Cadavers

So cool this poster, no?

I worked out so much my body was kind of screaming in pain. Turns out, if you never lift weights and then you do 'circuit training' and do three sets of fifteen, turns out, your body will bite you back. I was in so much pain. I feel like my arms have been ripped off and the rest of me run over by a truck.

Until I had two rums and cokes. I am merely sore at this point.

So, watching the sci fi channel, enjoying time with Mr. Hall and having inebriated thoughts about cadavers and the show Lost. Both of which are on the sci-fi channel.


First, the cadavers

Thought spurred by alcohol #1:

(Saw a promo of the show "Ghost hunters". Apparently, it's a show where paranormal experts film their activities of hunting ghosts using night vision cameras. The promo was about the evidence they found of ghosts milling about in some house.)

(I say to Mr. Hall)- "Yeah, I don't get it. I mean, why is it so hard to believe that people leave their bodies and the energy is milling about the place. I mean, seriously. I have worked with cadavers, they are dead. There is nothing there. But that doesn't mean their energy is gone.

It would be kind of irritating though, if their energy was hovering over the tank. Getting irritated at all the students poking around in their dead body. WELL! to them I say-- YOU WERE THE ONE WHO SIGNED THE CONSENT FORM. The one that said, 'I want to donate my body to science.' "


Thought spurred by alcohol #2:

(An older episode of Lost comes on)

(Again, I say to Mr. Hall), "I think I need to temper my hatred of the characters on lost. I mean, well, maybe just lighten up a little. I think I just have a problem with their moral fiber."

OK so let's begin,

Jack Shepard: I totally understand what his deal is. Alcoholic, emotionally neglectful Dad. Fine. But, at this point the "DOCTOR" has to realize he has a problem with the booze and benzos. Which is fine. I have hope for even the worst addict. No moral judgments here.

IT'S THE FACT THAT HE STILL PRACTICES MEDICINE. Turn in your fucking license, Shepard. You are no longer in the service of others, you are only serving yourself.

Kate: Ok, so what have we learned Kate? We have learned that when you stepped off the plane, the rescue plane, THERE WAS NOONE FUCKING THERE FOR YOU. It is time to take stock. Time to develop the availability of emotions. Time to reach out. And don't start with Jack, ya'll are no good together. Like to emotional retards. Oh wait.

And I don't care what anyone says. The scenes with her and Aaron are flippant and she doesn't even begin to look like a mom. Maybe I am just jealous of how she looks in pencil skirts. What with the flat tummy. But, as God as my witness, I shall be there again. Oh yes. Oh yes.

Either way, if no one shows up for your homecoming after being lost on an Island forever, then fucking take stock and grow some friends.



Hurley: I have no beef with Hugo. I do have beef with the actor though. He seems reasonable enough. Except he is FOUR HUNDRED PLUS POUNDS. I am tired of this. I want health for him. For now, he is a jokey guy. Covering up pain.

although, that's CHEECH!!! his dad is CHEECH!!! And I loved the scene where Hugo told the truth to his Mom. No one can lie to their mom.



And because I am pooped and sort of passing out, I end with:

Sawyer: hmm. Still have hopes for him.


















Wait, don't forget Linus: Psychopath, pathetic, no longer the chosen one and still smarting. He is more of a weasel really. A psychotic weasel, but a weasel nonetheless.

I guess, in the end, I can still root for Loc and Desmond. Maybe Sayid. As long as keeps his shirt off.

BUT DESMOND IS STILL PURE. But yet, not my favorite character.

Basically, the people from Lost suck for the basic reason. They are not geniune to who they are. They are all lying.
All subterfuge.

but, it is causing me to blog whilst I am under the influence. The show must be doing something right

And I've travelled this far with the Losties, no turning back now.

:)

(o btw, the photos and the links were linked stone cold sober :)

Posting about shrinkage, most every Wednesday (this week is a bit goofy)

These posts are about my quest for health, they happen most Wednesdays. I am losing weight and gaining strength. All while sharing with you. Feel free to share back :)

I also write about The Biggest Loser on ABC. However, that program is two hours long. And really, that sort of thing must be recorded and viewed sans the commercials. It will be up prol'l on Thursday. I mean, COME ON, two hours?

So, let's begin:

Health Goals from last week:

I can never remember what my health goals were from last week for these posts.
I mean, seriously, I have two small kids, I am glad to remember my name half the time.

(hee hee)

Speaking of which, there is a woman at my work actually named Holly. She has an office near me. It is creepy because every time I hear her name I look to see if they are addressing me. Well, most of the time. Huh. Then I have to remember, oh yeah, that is just my blog name.

Still. Creepy. And I wonder about the blurred lines here. I think it is ok, I mean, as long as I don't start introducing myself as Holly Hall. When that happens, the blog will go away for a bit while the author recovers her senses.

OK-Back to health.

Part of all of this, actively attacking my health issues, requires me to cut through a lot of chatter in my head. Like most writers, I am an introspective and analytical type. And I am prone to anxiety. So, as I start to really implement change, I get scared and start my thinking in overdrive.

Which is a baseline pattern for me. It wasn't until I met Mr. Hall, that I noticed this. Well he noticed it and pointed it out to me. And because he is an engineer by nature, he introduced me to the concept of energy conservation. Of spending my energy wisely and being efficient. And a thousand violins began to play.

What this means is, is that I am scared shitless of getting up at 5 am, working out, doing the wee weight program the helpful staff designed for me, going home, showering, getting dressed, getting the kids ready, and getting to work by 8 am. Scared shitless.

And I work through the scenario in my head. It seems impossible to me right now. I am scared. And the chatter starts and I begin to think too much. This begins to drain my energy and motivation.

IT STOPS NOW.

And breathe……

All that energy is best spent elsewhere. All that energy can go into chasing the kids, painting my toes, or massaging the husband. Blogging . . . .

And really, all the hyper thinking, analyzing and worrying…. It's just bullshit. Bullshit and noise to keep me from being healthy.

Bullshit that I can easily leap over. Which I will.

After all, those girly guns aren't going to build themselves.

It begins tomorrow people.

As God as my witness it shall begin!!!

TESTIFY!!

Weekly post about shrinkage

These posts are about losing weight and gaining strength.

I am bringing some friends along the way:

James and Pissy (so far).

Click on thier names to see their posts (They have fabulous blogs too btw). And afterwards, if you want to join the little health circle we got going here, just let me know in the comments.

Also, I will be discussing the Biggest Loser (couples addition) show.

Which is getting easier to watch.


And go!


Let's review:

A. Last week's health goals included drinking more water, getting more sleep and working on food, I think.

1. I did buy one of those big plastic jugs of filtered water for my office. Cost of $2.42 at the supermarket. I can now turn my chair around and fill my mug with water any time. I am up to two mugs a day. Which is a slight improvement over none. I also started to bring 3 pieces of fruit and raisins to work. These are tasty and sweet.

2. The sleep is a bit of an issue. I have no internal control or discipline for my sleep hygiene. But, I moved my work schedule around to force me to getup at 6.30 am. All of the sudden goofing off until 1.00 am is not possible without yawning in front of patients. So, dang, it feels good being tired at night versus butt exhausted. External controls on behavior work. Really, they work well.

3. I also took charge of food. I have been thinking and tasting different foods in my mind. Breaking dishes down to the basic elements and chasing what tickles my fancy. I bought a Weight Watchers cookbook for 1 dollar at goodwill, choose four recipes and went shopping. This way, I don't have to fight with my parent's effing scalloped ham potatoes and beefy meatloaf. They make this every Tuesday.

EVERY FUCKING TUESDAY!

I haven't been fighting it because I have been too exhausted. I don't even like how it tastes. The scalloped potatoes are from a box people. This is the crap I was raised on. So, tonight we made delicious stuffed peppers. And it sooo yummy. I felt full and not burpy and disgusting afterward. This is healing people, can you feel it?

B. Biggest Loser couples edition: the contestants were separated from their parteners last week, as their partners were sent home to see if weight loss can be achieved at home.

"The hardest part about doing this at home is that there is no accountability; no
one is going to do this for me."

"Life is hard, but our marriage makes everything easier."

"I don't like a lot of healthy food, I guess I am just going to have to work harder to find stuff to eat. "

the producers did this temptation thing with cash, saying to the contestants, " drop out and you will get 5 thousand, 10 thousand, 25 thousand dollars" and NOONE took it.

"I can get stronger here every day."

"When you start to feel that fear, welcome it, put your hands up and welcome it! "

"Let's be honest, I am the best, I am absolutely the fucking best." (this was one of the trainers, Jillian, she's kind of a bitch. She has an awesome set of girly guns though)

And the absolute best line of the show:

"This is my life now

And I'm taking it back."

Said by Tara

(click here for the profile)

Goals for next week:
Keep drinking the water
Do some sort of work out twice a week
Breathe, breathe, breathe
Start my day with some basic yoga stretches

And embrace the uncomfortable, the fear, the struggle.

Posting about shrinkage, most every wednesday

Ok, so.

On Wednesdays, I am will post about my current pro-active activities regarding my health.

Or, what can be called...

My quest for shrinkage.

Or, losing some wieght and gaining some strength.

I will also discuss the tv show "The biggest loser."

I am bringing some friends in on this, Pissy, Michelle K, and James. (And when you or you do do a post on this, lemme know and I will link to it).

1. Biggest Loser

I watched the premerie last night. I watched it with my mom. Let me repeat that, I watched it with my mom. This was an activity frought with contention. But, there we were, watching the biggest loser.

For those unfamiliar, The Biggest Loser is a show on NBC that has about 14 couples that compete in a weight loss competition. These are very large people, ranging from 250-500 lbs. At first, from the looks of it, all of the people were very excited to be part of the program. The first hour was about learning where they would be living-a sequestered house. They learned what they would be doing-working out 8-12 hours a day under supervision of medical staff and two trainers. They also learned the physical consequences of being some 300 lbs+.

Which, as a nurse, I have seen before. When I worked as a pediatric nurse, I saw kids that needed a large, adult size blood pressure cuff. I saw nine year olds being diagnosed with diabetes type II. Big, big kids, sitting next to their big, big Moms and big, big Dads.

Later, I saw 25 year olds on 12 different types of pills. One or two or three--for each diagnosis The diagnoses being diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholestrol, heart problems. It all sucked. Seeing this. As a nurse you care about your patients. And when your patients are on that many pills, and they are maxing out the dosage, there is not much else you can do. Change needs to happen for these people. But, the sad fact is, change only happens from within. Which means you can't make it happen for the people you care about.

People like my mom and dad. Both are big and on many, many pills. Both hate for me to bring it up. I use to hate them for it. Part of me just doesn't care anymore. I think I have come to the conclusion that I cannot affect change in them. This is the reality here folks.

2. THIS ISN'T ABOUT THEM, IT IS ABOUT ME

Children often learn how to think and do by what their parent think and do. You can inherit thinking and behavioral patterns without even knowing it. And so, about two years ago, I found myself to be very big. I needed help. I went to counseling, joined weight watchers, persued yoga and dammit it was hard. Very hard emtionally. But I came through healthier then I have ever been. It is through struggle that we learn the most no?

Yet, the underlying, unseen mechinisms at work--are still working. They are especially active now that I am back in the milleu of ill health. Overeating and being defensive is the norm at my parent's house. My challenge is not to be triggered by such patterns. Triggered into repeating them I mean. And I was recently losing this challenge.

So, let me stop all the psycho-blather and usage of big words and get down to the nitty gritty.

Goals for next week/how I will meet them:

1. Get more effing sleep. This will be accomplished by blocking out blogger and all the blogs I love from my home computer. I blog after the kids go to bed. It is intellecutally stimulating. I get all keyed up and stay up too long. This sucks, but it for the greater good.

2. Drink more effing water. I will bring a big jug of the filtered stuff from the grocery store and drink away.

3. Watch my eating late at night. This is the time when I seek out foods and relaxation. I will drink warm yummy tea. Perhaps a yummy apple.

There you have it folks, one post down, a life time to go.

Go forth and sin no more!