It's MY Journey, and I'm Taking My Time

I have had a hard time writing lately.   I think it’s because I have had so many thoughts going through my mind, and I haven’t been able to organize them into a coherent post on anything.   I’ve started and stopped several times, but end up walking away knowing that I have a lot to say, and frustrated by the block. I’m hoping to break through that today.    So hang on….it's a personal story, and one I have wrestled with sharing, so read on at your own risk.   :) Let me preface this by saying that I have a GREAT life.   I have a wonderful husband, great kids, and friends I can count on.   I laugh a lot, I have lots of love in my life, and a warm safe home to live in.   I grew up in a happy home with parents who loved me.   There was no abuse.   My parents are STILL married.   There wasn’t lots of crime where I grew up.   I have had, and continue to have….a GREAT LIFE. But somewhere in this great life, I began to dislike myself so profoundly that I de

I know a lot of people in this month of November are doing the “gratitude project” where every day you say something you are grateful for in your life.   I love this.   I love seeing what everyone says.   However, I have decided on my own project for November, and it all stems from some thoughts that I have been thinking for a while.  Here’s the back story… My daughter is 10.    She is in 5 th grade.   And she came home last week in tears, because the boys on the bus told her she was fat.   My son is 8.  He’s in 3 rd grade, and he came home a few weeks ago asking if his calf had baby fat on it, because someone in his class told him that he was carrying baby fat.  Having been a round child myself, I know the pain that comes with words like this.   I know I have written before about the words I remember as child from kids I went to school with.   I am 42 years old, and I still remember.   I can’t help but have my heart broken a little when I think of these thin

Claire was born on May 19th.   In Wisconsin, this ALMOST counts as spring, but the night she was born we had a hard freeze.   Anyway...once we got home with her, every night around 5:30 was her fussy time.    For those of you who have kids, you know this can be the most stressful time of the day as you anticipate what is coming.   A crying, uncontrollable baby that you can do nothing with, but listen to her cry. Well, since it was "spring" it was ice cream truck time.   Every night at about 5:15 the truck would come by our house playing it's music that to me sounds like it belongs in a scary movie.   Every night...5:15....and soon, Like Pavlov's dogs, that sound signaled to me that fussy time was almost upon us......and I would cry.   Not because I hate Ice cream, but because that sound made me know that soon the chaos would be upon me. Now....in the 10 years that have passed since then, I can once again hear that creepy song of summer without dread, but as I wa

Do you remember in algebra class when you were adding up letters to get number answers?   That crap never really made sense to me.   Letters and numbers are like apples and oranges....totally different, and totally NOT the same.  For all you mathematics peeps out there, I know...it's necessary....it DOES make sense (sort of) but I still can't comprehend the need to mix two completely different things all for the sake of finding the answers.  I'm a theatre major....I flunked algebra three times in college and had to settle for "Concepts of Math Thought." Now....where am I going with this?   Well.....I realized something this week, and that is that I was trying to use the properties of algebra when calculating my weight and it's direct relationship to my own self esteem.   Somehow I have been living a long time with the equation for success being.... Ideal Body weight = Happiness It's a simple property.   Easy to understand.   SUPER easy to underst

Eight years ago, on July 8, my son was born.   He is an amazing, handsome, funny, smart, and loving little man, and I have learned so much from him.   Things he probably doesn't even know or understand, but things that I have carried with me and will continue to do so forever. And why you might ask, have I chosen this time to write about him?  Because for the past week or so I have been really emotional, and sometimes close to tears.   (In fact today at the gym, I was almost in tears on the elliptical trainer for no apparent reason..and for a second I thought I was losing it!!  ha!)  I was wondering if I was having a break, when I realized that it was July...the anniversary of his birth, and in many ways, this month will always be a reminder of what we went through with him, and what a wonderful place of peace we have found.  And I need to take it as a reminder of what I have tried to take away from our experiences.....and hopefully share with others. He was born with

What does it mean to be the best?   I've had this conversation with so many people that it's a little mind numbing.   I am a perfectionist.   You wouldn't necessarily know this about me when you walk into my life.   My house isn't immaculate,  I have piles of stuff to go through, and my bed isn't always made.   When it comes to my personal goals and desires though....the bar is pretty high.  I often set expectations for myself that I would never hold anyone else to. I used to believe that being the best meant being in front and leading the pack.   If I was finding myself anywhere behind that point...I felt that I had failed.  When I was running, I was always pushing to try to better my time and move closer to the front of the pack, even though my body wasn't built for what I was putting it through.   When I was watching what I ate....I gave up everything that was "bad" and only had safe and nutritious foods in my pantry.  I would eat only organic.

Do you remember the part in "The Wizard of Oz" where Dorothy and her friends are entering the haunted forest and all the trees are scary and it's dark and creepy?   For the last week or so, I feel like I am journeying through my own haunted forest, and I am waiting to get apples thrown at my head. Back story...here goes.   About a week ago, this new fad called the K E Diet came to my attention.   Haven't heard of it?   That's because it is FREAKING RIDICULOUS!   Well, one of the network morning shows did a schpeel on it and it is basically putting a feeding tube in your nose, and letting yourself be fed by a continuous liquid drip diet for 2 weeks  so you can drop weight quickly for such monuments events as weddings, parties, and vacations!   SERIOUSLY!   Doctors are promoting this!    Well, at first I was COMPLETELY disgusted by the idea that we have come to this.   Women would rather walk around with a feeding tube stuck to their face and risk ruining their

When I started writing this blog, it was to document a journey.   I was turning 40, I set a goal to accomplish something, and frankly I just wanted to have some accountability, and maybe share something along the way. When that journey was over, I realized that I had some things left to say, and certainly had a LOT of lessons yet to be learned, so I kept it going.   I have never written for anyone but myself, and if you have laughed or cried, or related in some way, that is great.   It's cathartic for me, and I have found it a truly valuable form of personal therapy. So...with that being said.....I'm going to for the first time use this blog to try to start something.  I want to put out a challenge.   A challenge to everyone, but mostly to the strong, beautiful, talented women I know.   Let me tell you how this all started.... I have a daughter.   She is 9.   She is beautiful and kind and smart and compassionate.   And it has recently come to my attention that her self es

I am not an auto mechanic.   I don't know much about engines or cars.   But one thing I do know is that people have spent years engineering cars so that we are warned when every little thing goes wrong.   A bell sounds and a light comes up on the dashboard, and we stop what we are doing as soon as possible to check the problem, because this automobile costs a lot of money and we wouldn't want it to stop working. So today when I was driving my car and the light came on to tell me that I needed to stop for gas, why did I decide to go ahead and drive out to Zona Rosa and do all my shopping and then start my drive home before finally deciding I should stop since my odometer thingy says in approximately 4 miles I will be completely out of gas?   Why did I feel like I couldn't take the time to do one small thing I needed to do before moving on with my day?  Maybe I thought other things were too important?   Maybe I thought I could outsmart the engine?   Maybe I get a charge out

Warning....the disclaimer on this post is that it's a little emotionally charged....so read on at your own risk. All my life I have been obsessed with weight.   Sometimes I have been overweight, sometimes I have been underweight.   There have been times when I have used food to medicate myself, times where I just ate too much because the food was SO good and it made me happy.   There have been times where I have eaten too little, if at all, and times where I have been harmful to myself all in the name of weight. I'm tired of it. See, I was a chubby kid.   Not huge and roly poly, but big enough that I stood out.   I wasn't the skinny girl with blonde hair that everyone wanted to be like, I was the tall, chubby girl with glasses and not so great brown hair.   I was smart.   I was nice.   I had a lot of friends, but I was still the chubby girl. I remember the first time someone made fun of me for that.   I was in Mrs. Madden's first grade class and on the playgrou