Attitude is Everything

I can always tell when I feel a bad attitude coming on. My chest gets all puffy and my nose gets crinkly and I get frowny. Yes, there are lots of adverbs in that sentence that describe my body and how it responds to my internal behavior. Inside I am rebelling from whatever it is that is chaffing me. If I practice no restraint, I go flailing about complaining of my lot in life, which is utterly pointless and does nothing but irritate the people around me.

For example, Sunday evening I was exhausted. We had been running all weekend and I just wanted to sit down and relax. Instead, I was standing at baseball practice waiting for the team to finish. And they just kept playing and playing and playing. I was seriously crabby. To make matters worse, the woman who volunteers to keep the schedule told me there would be a double header Monday starting at 6:15. My brain popped, like a light bulb burning out, and my ears got warm. I did not want to spend another night at the ballpark.

Instead of accepting my lot in life, that while my son is playing on this team I have no personal life, I fumed. Then I began to make my way around from parent to parent vocalizing all the angst I was feeling inside. I could tell by the looks on their faces that they did not want to hear me complain but I just kept right on at it anyway. I know from experience that there is nothing more annoying than a stranger complaining to me about their problems but I inflicted this agony on the other suffering parents while I hoped to drum up an ounce of sympathy for my own sorry predicament. After all, we were in the same boat. All I got was blank stares and lots of blinking. Finally I gave up and just stood there and suffered. With no one to commiserate, complaining just wasn't any fun.

I recognized that I needed a serious attitude adjustment. So I went home, got in bed and began to plan my Monday. Suddenly a double header after a full day of work didn't seem so formidable. As a matter of fact, Monday turned out just fine. Well. Sort of. Things were okay until we encountered the kitten conundrum.

Kittens, you ask? Yes, kittens. Oh, I don't have cats. I have dogs and bunnies. I was standing at the first ballgame when my husband called to say, "We have a problem." I braced for the worst and then he said, "Kittens" and I was like, huh? Our dear Gwen, my golden retriever mix, found some kittens that had crawled out from under the door of our neighbor's garage and was trying to keep them warm. Yes, Gwen is a very special girl. The kittens were mewling, probably because they were hungry, and my husband called me. "I'll be right there," I said and quickly drove home.

He had placed the little babies in a box with a towel. They were no older than 2 weeks and tiny. They were soaking wet and crawling around making the most horrible noises. They were adorable. Eric looked at me and said, "No." I said, "We have to feed them." And he said, "No. We are not keeping them." My mothering nature wanted to run to the store and buy kitten formula and ease their suffering but my husband is a cruel, heartless man who hates cute and cuddly things and wouldn't let me. I'll spare you the argument that ensued. Needless to say, he won because he was right, I don't have time to nurse kittens. I wish I did, but I don't. And that, my friends, is the sound of my heart breaking. The day that I don't have time to nurse poor baby animals is the day I die inside.

So we called the Humane Society and even though they encouraged us to release the kittens and hope their mother would come back, we didn't. Because it's not the first time we have had feral cats and when they get bigger they are an incredible nuisance. So we insisted the Humane Society come and pick them up and they did and my children cried and I put on a brave face and we moved on.

This morning arrived with great clarity as regret surfaced and I faced the urge to bludgeon my husband in his sleep. After all, if it weren't for him we would be the proud keepers of sweet little feral kittens. I would have been up all night listening to them mewl while trying to feel them and I would have had to call in sick to work. My children would be pleased as punch but instead, I found myself doing crunches and listening to my sweet little four-year-old talk about how cute those little kittens were. Worst. Mother. Ever.

What does this have to do with attitude? Everything. The next morning I decided to forgive my husband, even though he is a cruel, heartless beast. And I resolved not to hold the kittens against him. So on Tuesday night when another kitten appeared I did the only rational thing I could think of. I stopped at Petsmart and bought kitten formula and tried nursing the little creature for an hour and a half until his belly was full. And then I called the Humane Society because I realized that I could not call in sick to work for the rest of the week to nurse the cutest feral kitten you ever saw in your life just because my children were crying and I was crying. And yes I am nuts. But I totally have a positive attitude about the whole thing.

Because sometimes I have to understand that I am human and life happens. Baseball games happen. Kittens happen. And "cruel" husbands who know what's best for me happen. And sometimes I just have to accept my lot in life and realize there's nothing I can do about the unexpected. Complaining won't make it go away. It just makes the people around me miserable. In the great, grand scheme of things I am truly blessed. I did not lose my home or any people I love to a tornado this week and I am gainfully employed and have a full tummy. And God bless the Humane Society for existing and for making house calls. And God bless my children who have the same wonderful, beautiful, tender heart that I do.

Resolve, It's not just a carpet cleaner!

Right before I woke up this morning I had a dream. Now, normally I wouldn't talk about my dreams in this venue but this was the first step of an important thought process for me. As you probably know, dreams often reflect our sub-conscious thoughts. In my dream I met the woman who insulted me three years ago and set me on the path to better health. If you know my that piece of my story feel free to skip the next paragraph.

A woman at work, who was relatively thin, stopped by my desk and began talking about the new(at the time) healthcare proposal. She ventured to suppose that the entire health care crisis could be solved if obese people were excluded from plans simply because of their weight. She posited that fat people were unhealthy on purpose and as a result soaked up too much medical space. Subtract fat people and experience health care utopia. Well, 310 pound Margaret was fairly insulted and an interesting conversation ensued wherein I did not stick up for myself, only gave excuses, and she walked away more full of herself than ever. That conversation was a major catalyst in my decision to try to get healthy. She really ticked me off. I hated that woman for a long time but more recently my feelings toward her have softened. After all, if she hadn't made me so upset, I honestly don't believe I would be where I am today.

In my dream I came face to face with that woman and do you know what I did? I hugged her. And I said "Thank you so much!" I thought about this as I walked outside this morning and I realized something about myself. I often tell myself I am not capable of doing certain things and I give up before I even try. But when someone tells me I CAN'T do something, I set my mind in stone that I absolutely CAN. For some reason I like to prove to people that I'm better than they think I am. Call it stubbornness or hard-headedness(as my husband calls it). I like to prove people wrong.

Well, my job is often a very frustrating thing for me. And sometimes I have to do terrible tasks that I loathe. I make myself do them so I don't get fired but I don't enjoy them AT ALL. Well, last week I was given another such task but this one is the worst ever. I worked 11 hours last Friday and left at 6:30pm in tears, feeling like the biggest failure in the world because I couldn't wrap my mind around the enormity of it. I resolved that I would rather quit my job than do it and spent the entire weekend trying hard not to think about what today would bring. But during my walk this morning I had this epiphany and fireworks went off in my brain. If someone told me I COULD'NT do the most recent task, I would set my mind like flint to do it and do it well. And then a little light bulb went on over my head. I don't need someone to tell me I can't do something to force me to prove them wrong. I can just do it. The sun touched my face with its warm rays in that moment and I smiled. Then, I decided to really try. I realized that even if I fail at least I would succeed in doing my very best.

Well I took a big bite out of that task today. And it was grueling work. And I spent every brain cell I had and I've only scratched the surface of the project. But I am SO proud of myself for trying.

I have lost 140 pounds. It did not happen over night. In the beginning it was utterly overwhelming. I thought it was impossible. Today I know differently. And it has changed my perspective on life. Someday I'm going to run into that woman for real. And when I do, I'm going to hug her just like I did in my dream. And I'm going to tell her that she was the catalyst that forced me to face my demons and slay them one forked tongue at a time.

It's Mother's Day, Y'all!

So happy Mother's Day to all of you who have born children. You know who you are. For some this is a day of intense pampering. It's just one big love fest from your family. Enjoy, my friends! For the rest of us I am writing this blog.

My day began with "Mom! I want MILK!" 5 seconds later my diabetic son was rifling through the fridge while I hollered "Wait until I check your blood sugar!" My eyes were grainy with sleep because I was up for several hours in the night with a headache. You know what's the only great about television at 1:30am? Channing Tatum! So beautiful... So I stumbled through the house, barely able to see, washed some little hands, pricked a little finger and then got into an argument about which milk jug we should use. I won(we always use the opened milk first) and then I went about preparing for my morning workout.

I have been looking forward to a leisurely bike ride for several days. Weekends are the only time I have to ride in the morning sunshine and I eagerly anticipate these days of freedom. The streets are empty on Sunday mornings so I don't have to fight so much traffic which is what makes it utterly perfect. I pulled my hair back into my cyclist bun and....

"Mom! I'm hungry!"

I only had about 60 minutes before I needed to shower for church. I could either hop on my bike, leave my four year old diabetic son to pilfer the fridge, and "enjoy" my ride or..... start making breakfast. Well, it is Mother's Day. So I skipped my ride.

I made whole wheat banana chocolate chip muffins, much to the joy of my boys who gobbled them down like starved monkeys. They hadn't licked up the last crumbs before they were trying to gouge each other's eyes out. Queue me, "Boys, please don't fight. It's Mother's Day!" To which they snorted and then resumed gouging.

"Mom, my throat hurts!"

Son #2 began moaning two minutes before we walked out the door. So I gave him some drugs and rolled us into the car. I was determined to get to church on time. It was a glorious(but cold) morning and I slurped my smoothie while cruising. No muffins for me(too many carbs!).

Church was fabulous. My pastor preached on some of my favorite verses and I just wholeheartedly embraced the service. Then we stopped by Trader Joe's for my favorite snack, dried apricots, and began to drive home.

"My throat hurts!" He was more insistent this time and my shoulders began to droop as I drove. The petty arguments broke out again and I sighed. I'm accustomed to driving while the WWF wrestling team wrassles in the back seat. I have earned that badge of honor. So of course we made it home with no crashing. But I will admit that my hair has a lot more silver in it lately.

I will digress here a bit. When boy #3 arrived at Sunday school he told the teacher there were goblins at home under his bed. And yesterday he made a point to announce to everyone, everywhere that there were monsters with us. Every time he talks about monsters I think, "Yes, there are monsters everywhere I go. And yes, they are born of my loins.

Which brings me to the second best part of my day, Massage Envy. I don't get massages because they're fun. I'll be honest. They are a medical necessity. I deal with chronic pain and they are just about the only thing that relieves it. Within 5 minutes I was in tears(of relief). I am SO thankful for my massage therapist.

I stopped by the grocery store on the way home to pick up yogurt. Okay. That's not entirely truthful. I was hiding. I didn't want to go home. And since I love food the grocery store is a happy place for me. I stopped by the deli counter and picked up some salami. I told the man behind the counter that I needed it because when I got home, if my children started pestering me I could distract them by throwing salami at them. (My kids LOVE salami) He said, "Good idea. Throw it to them and run!" You see, he's met my kids. Last time I was there he asked me why I don't get a babysitter to go to the grocery store." :/

The rest of the afternoon has been a blur. I only had to pause my movie(that I taped 2 months ago and finally found time to watch) about 30 times. But butts have been wiped, bread for lunches has been baked, laundry has been folded and hot tea with honey has been consumed. All in all, it has been a good Mother's Day. And I would be willing to write some really wonderful, inspirational stuff about how much I love my children and how grateful I am to be their mom, but child #3 is screeching like a banshee and if I don't get him chocolate ice cream in a cone RIGHT NOW the world will end. And we wouldn't want that, would we?

Body Image and Sense of Self Worth

I can't believe how busy I have been the past few weeks. I have had a variety of topics on my mind but no time to put pen to paper. So tonight I emerge from the cesspool of a particularly icky day to expunge my cluttered brain. Here goes...

I have frequently written about my journey to better health. I have discussed the many things I do to stay on track and how I get back on track when I fall off the rails. But a recent conversation with a co-worker recently reminded me just how far I've come. Shelly explained to me that she is planning a trip to the ocean in a month. She told me how embarrassed she is of her body and how she has gained weight over the past few years. She said she is thinking about trying to lose a few pounds before the trip because she would be too embarrassed to show her swimsuit clad body on the beach in its current state. She told me all these things with a casual flip of her wrist, as if it was more a wish than a plan. She ended with a slight chuckle and a shrug of her shoulders. As if she needed to make light of her body image to somehow come to grips with it.

I thought a lot about her comments after I went back to my desk. I don't consider Shelly overweight. She is a sparkly, bubbly, beautiful woman with a heart as bright and shiny as a new copper penny. And yet it is obvious she can't see that. For some reason she has convinced herself that she is not worth looking at. She even has it set in her mind that if the right numbers don't pop up on the contraption on her bathroom floor she is somehow less than a person. But I would venture to guess that she is the only person who thinks that about herself.

Oh the lies we believe about ourselves. That is what I thought when she was talking. Because much of what she said was achingly familiar.

Why do we think that we are less valuable as human beings because we don't look a certain way? Does the shape of our nose determine our character? Does the number of holes in our belt define our personality? Why do we put so much emphasis on our bodies when the true nature of who we are is invisible to the naked eye?

And yet when I was heavy I felt very poorly about myself. I bought into the lie that I was less than a person because I was obese. I lost years of my life feeling ugly to what purpose? I was so worried about what people thought about me that I lost myself. What a waste of time and energy that was!

I wanted to tell Shelly a lot of things in that moment. I wanted to tell her she is beautiful and lovely and important. I wanted to tell her that as long as she is happy it doesn't matter what she looks like in a swimming suit. She has a successful career and is well respected at work. Does the fact that she is a few pounds overweight really matter in the grand scheme of things? Heck, no! :)

Instead I said, "The last time I was at a beach in Florida there were a lot of old people. And they don't care what you look like."

Oy.

There is something to be said about good health. When I eat right and exercise I feel really good. My mind is clear and I am able to more fully understand my place in this world. Losing weight was revolutionary for me. It made me respect myself. I find peace of mind while walking up a flight of stairs that would hitherto have been impossible for me. I took control of my "out of control" life. And I won't lie, it feels great. I am certain there are people in this world who still consider me overweight. I'm lumpy in places I wish were flat and flat in places I wish were more plump. But I can honestly say I am content with my body and with my life. I am certain that taking good care of my body improves my overall sense of self but just because I am smaller doesn't mean I am a fundamentally different person. I still get sad. And I have the capacity for wickedness. My size has nothing to do with it.

Yesterday I made a pretty big mistake at work. I had to tell my boss this morning and it was utterly humiliating. When the realization of what I had done sank in, I took refuge in the cube of a friend. She took great care to soothe my worried spirit and breathe life back into my soul. This friend is one of the most giving, gentle and loving people I know. She makes an effort to show kindness to everyone she meets and has had a great impact on my life. She too struggles with body image but I don't see her body. All I see is her beautiful heart.

Eleanor Roosevelt famously said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."