"We don't want to EAT hot fudge sundaes as much as we want our lives to BE hot fudge sundaes." Women Food and God by Geneen Roth. This is about the truest idea I have heard so far. I want my life to be as rich and enticing and joyful and yummy as a hot fudge sundae.
I feel changed. It started yesterday, with a sort of calm. I have felt this before, and love being here. This magical place betwixt and between manic and depressive; my own personal fairy land. I hope I get to stay here awhile. I think I will, it feels different; I feel different. I feel like all of the ideas I've been collecting over the past five years are finding roots and beginning to grow. Maybe I just needed the time. Maybe I'm letting myself hope for too much too soon, but it's better than moping!
Good Morning Friday, it's nice to see ya!
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
A bit better
Okay, so maybe the book (Women Food & God by Geneen Roth) has some interesting ideas. I was laughing while I listened and learned about the acronym AFGO - Another Fucking Growth Opportunity. That was me yesterday, and it feels good to laugh about it today. But really, that could be the defining phrase for this past decade or two or three as we have struggled into consciousness and trying to figure out this whole obsessive eating disorder problem so many of us have. I can see it referenced in a history reference of the era, "The AFGO movement of the 20th and 21st centuries led women out of the dark ages of compulsive eating that had resulted as a by product of the previous Industrial Age."
Garlicy salad for dinner and my mouth is singing. I took about 1/4C slivered almonds and ground them up, chopped up half a large section of garlic and tossed it in the blender with the ground nuts, a few shakes of red wine vinegar and a splash of cold water. It was a little too tart once it was all blended up so I added 3 of the little parmigiana cheese packets they deliver with pizza. Perfect. My salad was a quick one of baby spring greens straight from the plastic container, half a huge yellow pepper diced and a few slices off a red onion also diced. about 1/4C garbanzos for the little punch of protein and that was it. Beans have been a lifesaver for me. They stabilize my blood sugar and help me feel full. Tomorrow I'll use the left over rice I have in the fridge and that will add the missing amino acids. Anyway, back to the dressing - using nuts instead of oil is a great way to pump up the nutrients in salad dressing as well as adding another layer of deliciousness.
Ok, time for some R&R after work.
Garlicy salad for dinner and my mouth is singing. I took about 1/4C slivered almonds and ground them up, chopped up half a large section of garlic and tossed it in the blender with the ground nuts, a few shakes of red wine vinegar and a splash of cold water. It was a little too tart once it was all blended up so I added 3 of the little parmigiana cheese packets they deliver with pizza. Perfect. My salad was a quick one of baby spring greens straight from the plastic container, half a huge yellow pepper diced and a few slices off a red onion also diced. about 1/4C garbanzos for the little punch of protein and that was it. Beans have been a lifesaver for me. They stabilize my blood sugar and help me feel full. Tomorrow I'll use the left over rice I have in the fridge and that will add the missing amino acids. Anyway, back to the dressing - using nuts instead of oil is a great way to pump up the nutrients in salad dressing as well as adding another layer of deliciousness.
Ok, time for some R&R after work.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Hump Day
Tired tonight; brushed the damn cat and now my eyes are all dry and itchy. Had oatmeal with blueberries and flaxmeal for breakfast, fast food for lunch (vegetarian) and another brussely soup for dinner and ice cream for dessert.
I started listening to Women Food & God. I can tell it's one of those books I will have to listen to again there are so many stinging little witticisms in it. Another book about 'the answer' and not having to diet and learning about yourself. So discouraging.
Ok, a visual slap from Cher and a strong "Snap out of it". Positive thoughts...Four days in a row of eating lots of veggies, another three days of gainful employment, a snug bed waiting for me and a cute dog to cuddle up with. Life is good, and I'm just going to ignore the bad parts and hit the sack.
I started listening to Women Food & God. I can tell it's one of those books I will have to listen to again there are so many stinging little witticisms in it. Another book about 'the answer' and not having to diet and learning about yourself. So discouraging.
Ok, a visual slap from Cher and a strong "Snap out of it". Positive thoughts...Four days in a row of eating lots of veggies, another three days of gainful employment, a snug bed waiting for me and a cute dog to cuddle up with. Life is good, and I'm just going to ignore the bad parts and hit the sack.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Scrumdiddelyumpteous
I love soup. I love making soup. I love making something wonderful by accident and such was this evening's soup. Started out normal enough, throwing some diced red onion into the pot over about 2 tsp. of oil. While those got started I cleaned and sliced up some Brussels Sprouts and threw them in. I chopped and added some artichoke hearts from my salad stash (in water, not oil) along with the water they were in. While putting those away my eye lit on a box of Carrot Ginger Soup from Trader Joe's that was left over and a baggie of wild\brown rice I had cooked last week and I threw those in too. I had picked up 4 bags of spinach on sale, so grabbed a huge handful of the beautiful green leaves and chopped that up to toss in the pot. About all the room was used up at this point so I tossed in a little garlic powder and some salt free seasoning, stirred it all together, covered it and turning the heat down to med-low set the timer for 20 minutes and left to do some virtual farming. OMG, it was so delicious I ate it all. But I'm not stuffed because it was mostly veggies. Think I'll go do a quick calorie check.
From left to right the columns are Serving Size, Calories, Protein, Fat, Carbs, Fiber, Sodium & Calcium
Wow, so I thought the protein I had listed for Brussels Sprouts must be wrong so I googled it and confirmed they are high in protein. And I happened to eat them with whole grain rice, another accidentally good choice. I think some things that complement each other nutritionally also complement each other in other ways (think Falafel and Tahini sauce) so we are drawn to eat them together. I'm not happy about the sodium that was in the prepared soup, but I know the rest of the day was low so maybe that's okay this time. The meal balanced out at 18% Protein 21% Fat & 61 %Carbs . So a little high in protein, but I'm happy about the fat and getting in my extra greens (Calcium is the 331 number up there.) One of the reasons I love eating mostly plants is that I can eat a big yummy meal without wasting calories and still filling up nice and full. I still need that, I'm still a foody. Which brings me to desert. I had to run to the Library and on the way home drove right in to 7-1 and picked us each up a Toll House Ice Cream Sandwich. Damage = 380 calories. But I know that my green smoothie this morning was about 250 and my salad at lunch not much more than that. I think I am still right around 1500 for the day, so that's good.
I knew that at least food-wise it was going to be a good day :)
From left to right the columns are Serving Size, Calories, Protein, Fat, Carbs, Fiber, Sodium & Calcium
Wow, so I thought the protein I had listed for Brussels Sprouts must be wrong so I googled it and confirmed they are high in protein. And I happened to eat them with whole grain rice, another accidentally good choice. I think some things that complement each other nutritionally also complement each other in other ways (think Falafel and Tahini sauce) so we are drawn to eat them together. I'm not happy about the sodium that was in the prepared soup, but I know the rest of the day was low so maybe that's okay this time. The meal balanced out at 18% Protein 21% Fat & 61 %Carbs . So a little high in protein, but I'm happy about the fat and getting in my extra greens (Calcium is the 331 number up there.) One of the reasons I love eating mostly plants is that I can eat a big yummy meal without wasting calories and still filling up nice and full. I still need that, I'm still a foody. Which brings me to desert. I had to run to the Library and on the way home drove right in to 7-1 and picked us each up a Toll House Ice Cream Sandwich. Damage = 380 calories. But I know that my green smoothie this morning was about 250 and my salad at lunch not much more than that. I think I am still right around 1500 for the day, so that's good.
I knew that at least food-wise it was going to be a good day :)
Free Fall
Sometimes after a bout of grief I wake up strong and determined to get on with things; full of gratitude for all of the small things in my life that are good and ready to build on them. Other times I wake up disoriented, ungrounded, and grasping at straws to numb myself and disappear. This time I dove into a box of fries with a book and didn't come out for two days. I use to justify this type of unhealthy behaviour by saying at least I wasn't grabbing for some valium or a freight train to the Yukon. Now I am just dismissing it and moving forward. Green smoothie ready, salad packed for lunch, recipe printed to stop for groceries on the way home from work. A little morning planning goes a long way with me towards making good decisions later. I am already counting this a good day and I haven't even left for work yet. I actually started yesterday after driving through for breakfast; sometimes you just can't wait for the next day to get back on track. I will never be a 'Monday Dieter' again. Instead I am a 'do the best I can everyday' sort of eater, and my seat on the proverbial wagon will never stay cold for too long once I have fallen off.
Happy Tuesday World.
Happy Tuesday World.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
A birth story
The sound of his boots came echoing down the street, the thud of their impact on the wet sidewalk becoming ever louder as he headed pell mell towards me and home and the imminent arrival of his son. At the time we didn't know the babe was to be a boy, unlike our daughter I had been given no inkling as to who this new little arrival was going to be. But here was the father, weaving in the open door, the night wet behind him, one hand raking back through his wild blond hair while the other held on to the door frame to steady himself. And I knew that we weren't going anywhere yet. I had been up for hours, woken by the boulder my abdomen had become, and it had taken some time to track him down. He had found a pool game at the neighbours of a friend around the corner of the next street over. Typical birth story, a woman taking care of her man instead of herself as she prepares to bring a new life into the world. And yes, I know I sound just a little bitter. A few hours sleep, a cold shower and some cups of coffee later (him not me) I packed up our beautiful baby girl who had just turned three, called my sister in law, and we were on our way. First dropping Rhiannon off and then heading up the freeway towards the hospital with the well wishes of family still ringing in our ears. I don't remember much of the next part of the drive, just the never ending pain and hating being stuck in the seat of the car, but it's fleeting. The next real memory is laying in the hospital bed, so mad at myself that I was back in this..this..this most uncontrollable of all situations; wracked with unending waves of pain that I couldn't stop, stuck in the middle of the birthing process that would run it's course no matter how crazy I became. The staff was short handed with so many babies on the way they were running circuits between us all; then the need for the episiotomy the head was so big and no one to help ease the opening and the nurse explaining I wouldn't feel it at all, which was correct until the next day. And finally the beautiful little baby boy to hold and the joy and the love and the pride was a tide of emotion lifting me above all that had gone before. He was Joey from the beginning, Joseph David after two important people; Joseph for the man who gave me my first sailboat, and David after my husband's best friend. It was suppose to be the other way around, but I knew he was Joey as soon as I saw him and switched the order of the names.
It's so sad that I can't remember Jim being there once we reached the hospital. Maybe because I had been so mad at him, another night drunk when I could have used the support and company. I don't remember going in to have my tubes tied either, just the nurse asking me if I wanted something for the pain the next night and then luxuriating in the warmth and relief of a couple of percondan as they escorted me away from the pain and rolled me into the oblivion of sleep. Earlier that day I had discovered a little web between two fingers on Joey's left hand. No one else had noticed it, and the nurses were so surprised when I asked about it. Joey would be four and wanting to wear a baseball mitt before we scheduled the surgery to open up those fingers. And I thought labour was bad - waiting for him to be out of surgery that day was a nightmare of worry. But that's another story.
My next memories are of us at the house; the pain and discomfort of the episiotomy, wanting everyone to just please leave so I could find some normalcy, and finally this tiny little baby sleeping on the couch while I sat on the floor next to him, Rhiannon in my lap, both of us adoring him. He slept so much more as a baby than she ever did. While Rhiannon fought sleep tooth and nail Joey succumbed with what I think of now as a pervasive need to disappear. I wonder now looking back if he was longing for the magical place from whence he came, if he had an inkling of how hard it was going to get before he was allowed back. Once he was out of his crib and his first twin bed was still on the floor he would disappear before bedtime, tucking himself in and out for the count before I could even read him a story.
I have a strong memory of nursing him, sitting back against the soft black leather of the hideabed that was in his nursery, a blanket covering the both of us, and the delicious sensation of nursing that made me feel connected to the web of energy I think of now as god. Then it just felt like we were an important part of the universe, that all was right with the world. To bring the moment back into focus there was a salesman in the living room running a kirby vacuum over the carpet, shampooing it for free. I ended up selling my mom the gold nugget watch I had left over from another part of my life for $600 so I could pay for that damn kirby. Years later, I would let it go for $10 at a garage sale while still under the influence of grief.
And more memories...
Joey sitting on a winter's day in his little blue down vest digging in the dirt of the back yard and playing with his yellow dump truck. Blond hair shining, big sister at his side.
Joey riding his little red bike at four, training wheels just off, racing down the sidewalk.
Joey laying along the patio wall, playing at being dead so the vulture in the pine tree would try to come and get him.
Joey balancing on a surf board at the lake, water dripping off of him, the little droplets of light a halo around his strong slender body.
Joey's arm around my neck, holding on tight. If only I could have held on to him, protected him, from all that was to come. If only I could fogive myself for the memories I won't list and can't forget. It's 28 years later, and he's been gone for awhile now. Five and half years of gone. No birthday cake, no balloons, no candles. Just tears and chamomile tea. I sucked at giving birthday parties anyway, hell, I still do.
Where ever you are Joey, happy birthday. As much as I miss you now, I wouldn't for the world have missed all that came before. I Love You, Mom
It's so sad that I can't remember Jim being there once we reached the hospital. Maybe because I had been so mad at him, another night drunk when I could have used the support and company. I don't remember going in to have my tubes tied either, just the nurse asking me if I wanted something for the pain the next night and then luxuriating in the warmth and relief of a couple of percondan as they escorted me away from the pain and rolled me into the oblivion of sleep. Earlier that day I had discovered a little web between two fingers on Joey's left hand. No one else had noticed it, and the nurses were so surprised when I asked about it. Joey would be four and wanting to wear a baseball mitt before we scheduled the surgery to open up those fingers. And I thought labour was bad - waiting for him to be out of surgery that day was a nightmare of worry. But that's another story.
My next memories are of us at the house; the pain and discomfort of the episiotomy, wanting everyone to just please leave so I could find some normalcy, and finally this tiny little baby sleeping on the couch while I sat on the floor next to him, Rhiannon in my lap, both of us adoring him. He slept so much more as a baby than she ever did. While Rhiannon fought sleep tooth and nail Joey succumbed with what I think of now as a pervasive need to disappear. I wonder now looking back if he was longing for the magical place from whence he came, if he had an inkling of how hard it was going to get before he was allowed back. Once he was out of his crib and his first twin bed was still on the floor he would disappear before bedtime, tucking himself in and out for the count before I could even read him a story.
I have a strong memory of nursing him, sitting back against the soft black leather of the hideabed that was in his nursery, a blanket covering the both of us, and the delicious sensation of nursing that made me feel connected to the web of energy I think of now as god. Then it just felt like we were an important part of the universe, that all was right with the world. To bring the moment back into focus there was a salesman in the living room running a kirby vacuum over the carpet, shampooing it for free. I ended up selling my mom the gold nugget watch I had left over from another part of my life for $600 so I could pay for that damn kirby. Years later, I would let it go for $10 at a garage sale while still under the influence of grief.
And more memories...
Joey sitting on a winter's day in his little blue down vest digging in the dirt of the back yard and playing with his yellow dump truck. Blond hair shining, big sister at his side.
Joey riding his little red bike at four, training wheels just off, racing down the sidewalk.
Joey laying along the patio wall, playing at being dead so the vulture in the pine tree would try to come and get him.
Joey balancing on a surf board at the lake, water dripping off of him, the little droplets of light a halo around his strong slender body.
Joey's arm around my neck, holding on tight. If only I could have held on to him, protected him, from all that was to come. If only I could fogive myself for the memories I won't list and can't forget. It's 28 years later, and he's been gone for awhile now. Five and half years of gone. No birthday cake, no balloons, no candles. Just tears and chamomile tea. I sucked at giving birthday parties anyway, hell, I still do.
Where ever you are Joey, happy birthday. As much as I miss you now, I wouldn't for the world have missed all that came before. I Love You, Mom
Friday, September 23, 2011
Friday
So two 'bad' days in a row, sort of. I did things great the first parts of the days, and then dinner ... not so much. I will give myself some slack here, it's a rough week, and I know the pressure that is driving me to eat will be lighter on Sunday. At least I am being more good than bad in my decisions, and probably at worst breaking even. It's too bad food works so well as a drug; if it didn't there wouldn't be so many fatties out here, now would there?
Had my green smoothie on the way to work, have home made soup to heat up for lunch and eat while I am walking over my break, and a big nectarine to eat on the way home. That will be the good part of my day. And afterwards...I like to pretend that I will be in control, and have a good evening. I like to pretend that I will go home, clean the kitchen, and make a wonderful, healthy, crunchy salad. I can do this. I can.
Had my green smoothie on the way to work, have home made soup to heat up for lunch and eat while I am walking over my break, and a big nectarine to eat on the way home. That will be the good part of my day. And afterwards...I like to pretend that I will be in control, and have a good evening. I like to pretend that I will go home, clean the kitchen, and make a wonderful, healthy, crunchy salad. I can do this. I can.
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