My weight loss struggle.
Getting my stuff together.Archive for March, 2008
Have a safe flight
I’m in Hometown Coastal City, in the house in which I grew up, visiting my parents and siblings.
Da Da, The Little One, and I drove down for a few days. With mortgage costs, a car note, and day care expenses, we don’t have much disposable income to put toward gas for road trips, but we worked it out, and made our way down.
Yesterday, we went to the beach right at sunset and just looked at the ocean. It was so peaceful. I felt that all was right with the world. I felt immediate clarity on so many issues. As children, we rarely came to the beach, even though our house is twenty minutes from the ocean. I’m not quite sure why we didn’t go to the beach more often. I suspect that visiting that beach brought back painful memories for my parents, as the local beach was forbidden to them during their childhoods due to segregation and Jim Crow.
This weekend, I was able to see six of my eight siblings, and two of my ten nieces/nephews. (I also have a grand-niece and nephew, and one on the way, but that’s a whole ‘nother story as they say.) It’s been nice to see family, and the trip has been pretty drama free.
One of my brothers– The Special One– who is a marine, will be shipped off to Iraq in two months. It will be his first time to Iraq. He will be stationed in Fallujah.
I have so many feelings, and so many things that I would like to say to him, but he functions and exists in a reality in which I do not live. I do not understand much of anything about him. I, and most of my siblings, deal with him in superficial terms. We just smile and nod at his asinine comments, and emotional outbreaks. If he didn’t look so much like my mother, I would believe that he wasn’t related to us.
If our relationship was “normal,” I would write him a long letter, and tell him that I loved him, and that no matter his choices in life, we would always be family. I would tell him to be careful, and to think long and hard about the implications and consequences of recent life choices. I would tell him that I think that his wife is playing him. (I think that I would tell him this. I hope that I would be able to tell him this.) I would tell him not to forget where he comes from, and to write often. I would tell him to make good with my father before he left. I would tell him to explain to my parents why he did what he did. I would tell him to make peace with his twin, and to pay my uncle back the money that he borrowed. I would tell him that I am sorry for any wrongs that I have committed against him, and that I forgive him for scratching my Mary J CD when I was 18 and he was 14. I would tell him that no matter what he sees at war, that we will still love him, and that he can always come home.
But we don’t have that type of relationship.
So, I’ll just tell him to have a safe flight.
Phat and Fly.
I have the bad habit of not paying attention to my physical needs when my weight is up. When I have been thinner, I have been really particular about my clothing. I’ve gotten my hair done regularly, and have been rather cute, if I do say so myself. But once the weight goes up, I get depressed, and just let it all go. Well, the past week, I have been working on that. I got my hair done, got my eyebrows threaded, and even puchased a few new items of clothing (thank GOD for Old Navy.com) It made me feel so much better at me. I have a friend (who just happens to have the same usual first name as me) who once said that she never let herself look a “hot mess” no matter what size she was at. (Sorry for the preposition at the end of the sentence.) Well, I am trying to channel that vibe for myself…So if you must, call me PHAT and FLY!
Ready, set, go…!
It’s late. But we’re all prepared for tomorrow. The Little One’s food is made. His clothes are laid out. I know what I’m wearing. My bag is all packed for work. The alarm clock is set. The house is clean (relatively speaking.) I am dressed for the gym, and am going in the morning. I won’t be getting much sleep tonight, but it’s okay. I am all jazzed and excited about going to the Y. I will not turn the alarm clock in my sleep…I will go the Y. I will work out for 45 minutes. It will be great!
stressed out by work
I am actively stressed out by work. Iwillnoteatadanish……Iwillnoteatcomfortfood….Iwillnothaveahystericalfit…Iwillnotprocrastinate…It willbeokay…..
AM at the Y
Finally. Finally, we’ve got a routine as a household. We’ve gotten into a groove. Da Da takes care of The Little One in the mornings. He changes his diaper, brushes his teeth, and does all the little details that kids need in the mornings. It’s so cute; The Little One will even go get his wipes and bring them to us and can tell us what’s in his diaper. Da Da fixes the banana-honey-rice milk-oatmeal for The Little One, feeds him, gets him dressed (in outfits much better than the ones that I tend to choose,) makes the coffee, and drops him to day care (we switched to a place on the way to his job, which has made life so much easier.) We usually get up at about 5:30, and both leave around 7:15. I carpool to work with two coworkers who pick me up at the front door. In the afternoons, I arrive home first usually by 4:45 (one of the few perks of teaching.) I come home relax for a few, and then cook a nutritious meal for all of us that is on the table by 6:30ish. (The Little One has bad allergies to milk, soy, eggs, and wheat…so he gets his own special super healthy meals.) Da Da picks up The Little One from day care and arrives home between 6:15 and 6:30. We eat dinner together, and then I put The Little One to bed by 8:00, while Da Da cleans the kitchen. It’s been pretty smooth sailing, and this has worked well for us as a family. At the beginning of the school year, we really struggled about how to make the “Juggle” work for us. I felt so tired and overwhelmed. I was on the edge all the time. Things are much better now. While this schedule works well for us as a family, it is still missing something important: exercise. We have not fit in exercise. Neither one of us. We had been taking walks as a family on Sunday mornings, but somehow that stopped. Making a commitment to something means making time for it. I am going to have to exercise in the mornings. I would love to exercise in the evenings without disrupting Our Best System, but I can’t figure out how to make that work without rushing out the door as soon as I come, which I wouldn’t enjoy. I like taking walks, but walking around my subdivision in the afternoons bores me big time. I know that I’ve come up with lots of different potential schedules since I have been writing this blog, and part of me feels really embarassed about that. I keep wondering why I just can’t pick something and stick with it. But I have to keep trying until I get something that works for me and my family. I have to keep trying until I get it right. I’m really not trying to have perfection, just something that works and keep me in balance. (That’s me being defensive with myself!) I’m more of a morning person, so off to the Y at 5:15am is what I am trying now. I can work out from 5:30 to 6:15, be back home by 6:30, and ready for work 7:00.
