BLE: The counting of days or lack thereof

Day two of journaling after Wordle, and I have nothing to say except that I won't be counting days. One does not count days for the rest of one's life, do they? Instead, we should be making the most of each day, no? And lord knows I am too lazy for that. Okay, STOP. I am not lazy, just lacking in finding the importance of certain things.  I'll have to look at that more closely when I have more time to reflect, like next September.

Things I need to/want to/should do:

• Clean out the fridge
• Make a bean soup for the week
• Prep beans and rice for breakfasts
• Make dinner for the Family

BUT, it's a sunny day and I also want to get outside for a bit, so something has to give. I think the most important are the first two as they go hand in glove so to speak. And I'll have to check what we have on hand to make for dinner as I don't want to drag the grands to the grocery store. And no, serving bean soup for their dinner will not go over well.

Maybe chopped salads with the leftover Easter ham & cheese, I think that might work for all of us.

I really don't feel like being here and  noting the mundane aspects of the day, but there you have it, one rarely knows ahead of time where words and thoughts may take you on any given day. This morning, nowhere much, but maybe that's a good thing.

BLE: Morning habit stack

 Usually when visiting my Mother, when it's time to go home I am packed the night before, and in the morning I am ready and out the door in a flash, anxious to be on the road home. But this morning I am staying true to yesterdays commitment and journaling after doing the daily Wordle (got it in three.) This after my morning meditation, stripping and making the bed, and showering, so I am feeling very productive. I guess this is my abbreviated morning habit stack - Meditate, Wordle, Journal.  At home depending on the day it can be longer.

I did not make it through the night unscathed, cheese & crackers my lonely companions at 3am after tossing and turning for a couple of hours. Partly just awake, partly in pain and not being relaxed and comfortable. Knowing a snack will help sedate me is not a good thing, so two bright lines broken before I even start the day.

Luckily I am in a mellow state of mind, and looking forward to a bright day ahead. Here's my food:

b)  cheese, triscuits, banana - yes, I see the cheese & triscuits is a problem
l)  hard boiled eggs, celery, small orange & small apple - eaten in car on the way home
d) a Bright plate of whatever Easter dinner my daughter has prepared - she is also eating Bright

Homework: get online once I am home and find someone I can call in the middle of the night - maybe in Australia? I'm not sure I will do this, it's just an idea for times I can't sleep. I am hoping that back in my own bed and no siren calls from the kitchen pantry will be enough; I haven't eaten in the middle of the night at home in a while. Before bed, yes, middle of the night, no. I will look for support for both time frames. Luckily this is a world wide movement, so there will be someone!

There is a part of me tugging at the reins to get going, so I am off to pack meals, load up the car, and head North.

The Move: A bad beginning

 I just had to make a note of this conversation somewhere, and so here it is.

"Hey Mom? I've been thinking about where I might put my desk when I come down in September to stay. The dining room table is too high, and causes my back to hurt."

"How about the Library?" she asks.

I go to look and measure; there are three large bookcases lining the walls, a day bed, her 'desk' which is my grandparent's old dining room table and too high to work at. There is no spare wall space. I report back to Mom, "I think it would work but we would need to remove one of the bookcases."

"We can't do that, where would I put my books?" She thinks for a minute and when I try to interject a comment she says bruskly, "don't talk to me!"  Another long minute goes by and she turns to look at me. "I guess you can't come."

I take a breath, then show her a picture of my desk at home, and how small and compact it is. We talk about where in the house we could move the bookcase, then I suggest putting my desk from home between the dining room and the living room in a nook under a window.

She thinks this might work, the rocking chair I would displace 'can go anywhere' she muses aloud.

I am left feeling like nothing. With less value than shelves of books she knows are there but no longer reads, the library a dusty cluttered hidey-hole of days gone by.

I am not deterred. Maybe there is a way to raise the floor in front of the library desk so I can sit at the right height and work in comfort. It's good I started the conversation now, reminding her that me coming to live with her will be a disruption, and not the same as me coming to visit.

While I still have doubts, I am filled with a sense of purpose, and not angry at the rejection. I know she loves me, just not as much as she needs her things around her. She is 90, what can I say.

Brightline Eating; Reframe Rezoom

 Here is my post from this morning in the Bright Line Eating community:

TLTR: Last month I decided it was time to visit my Mother; she is 90 and I hadn't seen her at all since Covid. I had stopped weighing myself some time ago, but thought it might be safe to do so away from home. Stepping on her scale in March I was unsurprised to see that I was exactly the same weight as I had been the last time I stepped on her scale - Feb 2020.

During that visit we decided it would be a good idea for me to visit each month through the Summer and so here I am again, a month later, visiting Mom and her scale. Knowing I had a rough month behind me I looked at the scale and knew it might be a bad idea to once again step on those forbidden shores. But I did anyway. How on earth I managed to gain 9 pounds in a month is not beyond imagining, but still was quite a shock. Trying to look back over the month I do see that in between my bright days there were a lot of fourth meals just before bed, and some snacking during the day. Realizing how far I had slipped into the ditch while lying to myself about it was rather disheartening.

Having maintained a 30# loss for two years (50# to go) had been a little frustrating, but gaining back a third of it in a month was just heartbreaking. I ranted and raved yesterday morning in the first journal entry I had made in months, and by the end of that little exercise I was once again in the frame of mind to have a bright breakfast. And then I realized I was drinking tea with cream in it as I had forgotten to bring my oat milk.

The day didn't go badly, but I wasn't bright, and this morning when I signed on to do Wordle the below memory was waiting for me. The final straw in my attitude adjustment.

So here it is, my commitment to eating only and exactly what I am about to write down for the day!

b)   Triscuits, PB, Banana

l)    Green Salad, cheese, apple

d)   Ham, scalloped potatoes, coleslaw

Neither light nor healthy, but I had planned recipes to make a compliant Easter dinner for Mom. Tonight I will commit my food here for Sunday when I am driving home. (4.5 hrs trip.)

A GREAT BIG SIGH

Well, here I am again. Feeling defeated and discouraged and, well, really just a big "Oh Well did you really expect anything different in the long run?" But that is just the surface, underneath there is a part of me that 'knows' what to do and that this just means there is work to be done. Work I am too lazy to do? Work I feel shouldn't have to be done so it just makes me mad to think about what I should be doing? I mean really, why should it take so much work to just feel at peace? Because peace is not why we are here? Which brings me back to my childhood, and swinging on the front gate while I wonder why I have to be here again. Wondering why I can't just go back.

It's the same old question humanity has asked forever, why are we here? Except I knew in that moment of childhood clarity there was a somewhere I came from, someplace that was better, a place that I liked, and where I belonged. At a young age - 6? 7? 8? - I knew I didn't want to be here on earth and 'going through this again.' That feeling has followed me through life as I struggled to get through everyday things, and mostly doing a bad job of it.

I blamed myself for being lazy when I didn't live up to my own expectations, when I didn't have a career path to follow, when I didn't excel at the ordinary business of growing up.

While I try to believe I have forgiven myself for how my life has unfolded, mostly I know I failed and that is  probably the underlying reason for why I am back here in a place of regret and sadness with tears streaming down my face as I type. Sitting in my Mother's dining room, surrounded by beautiful things, I am a fish out of water. Voluminous soft black sweater keeping me warm, laptop humming away, I am anomaly in this space dedicated to delicate glassware, orchids, and ceramic creatures. A sort of analogy for my whole life.

And I see that the pity party has begun so another great big sigh leaves my body and I hitch up my big girl panties to once again start over. Because I am not certain I have fulfilled any purpose yet in this life, and just noticing the glimmering of a chance that there may be something I need to do before I can go back pulls my mind out of the gutter and makes me want to keep trying; the fucking Pollyanna game is once again afoot and I must sit here and be grateful for what brings joy to my life.

Okay, so maybe I'm drawing a blank on that at the moment with the huge exception of my grandkids. Every hug, every conversation, reminds me that love is everything, and that everything I have been has brought me to this place with them.  Maybe that is why depression is trying to sneak in - because I am planning to leave them and move South in September to be here full time for a while with Mom. It might be for the rest of her life, or maybe just a few months to spend a holiday season with her; she is 90 and I do feel we are running out of time. Time to connect, to get to know each other. But I don't anticipate that happening as we are both so set in our ways. I am hoping time together will ease us into some semblance of acceptance, but at the  moment all I can see is work. AFGO indeed.

So what started this early morning rant down pity lane? As usual it is my weight. I have not been Bright more than a day at a time lately, and since I was here on a visit last month I have gained 9 pounds. Amazing what the body can do!

But at least stepping on the scale made it clear that it is time to clear the decks, start fresh, and take care of myself. This being typed while there is cream in my mug of tea so of course I have already failed as it is not a Bright morning. My bad for not stopping to pick up oat milk, and for planning to use cream in the scalloped potatoes at Easter dinner. so there it was waiting for me in the fridge this morning.

As previously stated, I know what to do, I'm just lazy. Or at least there is a very strong part of me that uses that as an excuse, and that is the part I need to get to know, and THERE IT IS AGAIN; why all the work? Maybe there is an even bigger rebel part that I still need to work on first. And that is my trailhead for the parts work; why does having to do the work piss me off so much? If we are spiritual beings living a human experience to feel/grow/enrich our souls then why is such a strong part of me so resistant?

Another great big sigh.

I haven't journaled in a while, because I was writing so much crap as evidenced by the above jumble. But I need to start again, it being part of the work I am so resistant to doing. And I guess I should start by being grateful. For this quiet morning to reflect, for the hot mug of tea, for the ability to work remotely so I can be here.

One of the things Mom and I need to work on is how we will manage our meals. I have been eating at 8, 11 and 4 for years now, while she eats closer to 10, 2, and whenever. But we can do that in September,  for now I just need to navigate through the weekend. Forget that, I just need to plan a bright breakfast! I may have to run to the store a little earlier than anticipated this morning.

Funny how quickly I can go from 'why am I here' to grocery shopping, which I suppose is the magic of journaling.

I have a Bright Line Eating quote on a sticky, something I felt important as it lives just below the keypad of my laptop. "Choose what you want and pay for it; now in work or later in consequences."  This morning I saw the consequences of breaking my lines and lying to myself about how often I was doing it. And here we are, back to the WORK. A full circle moment. But at least now I am calm.