Archive for the ‘confession’ Category
With all the discussions of hazing in the news, it’s brought back memories of my freshman year of high school. That year I went to Marian High, an all-girl, Catholic high school. Each freshman student was assigned a senior student to be her big sister. Part of that involved “initiation.”
I can’t remember my big sister’s name. But she was beautiful. I was in awe of her.
My big sister and her friends gathered us freshmen up and took us about town before Homecoming. One of the other big sister’s was the daughter of an eye doctor. She had access to many pairs of old fashioned cat-eye glasses. Which we were made to wear while riding the mechanical horse at Mammel’s (sp?) grocery store.
I wonder if this is what has fueled my love for cat-eye glasses ever since? You’d think it would have scarred me instead!
One of the major weekend evening activities in Hays, Kansas, was “dragging Main street.” Cars drove up Main Street, turned around in the library parking lot, drove down Main Street, turned around in the Varsity parking lot, to repeat the loop. Again. And again. And again. If you were feeling adventurous you could pass the Varsity parking lot and head down into the park where it was dark, spooky, and there were buffalo in pens.
(I should also point out that the Varsity sold beer through a drive thru window. Kansas had an 18 year old age limit for 3.2 beer at the time. I don’t know why I feel compelled to share this…)
My group’s big sisters planted us on Main Street in front of the library with bags of Hershey Kisses and told us to sell them for a nickle apiece to the passing cars. That was the last piece of my
I know other girls did other things. Carrying books. Pushing vehicles. Washing vehicles. I have no idea what went on at the neighboring boys’ school, but there weren’t even rumors about hazings like are reported in the news these days.
It’s hard being a fat parent. Because people automatically assume you have no idea how to feed your kid a healthy diet. They assume you’re constantly getting dinner at the drive thrus of the local fast food restaurants and tossing candy bars into the back seat while driving for ice cream. Of course, the food at home is no better with chips and soda being the norm, natch. I know, it’s happened to me. More than once.
Which has turned me into The Good Fatty. The Good Fatty is the fat person who does her best to let everyone around her know that while she might be fat, she does her best to be healthy. Very few processed foods in my house! Chips and soda are rare treats! Vegetables at every meal! Nothing deep fried ever!
It’s exhausting. That’s why I was so relieved to read the Fat Nutritionist’s post about Real Food. We sure can be judgy about food. And we need to stop. Because there are very real reasons why people choose the foods they choose and it’s none of our business. It’s really not.
Every day I have a McDonald’s iced tea. I love their iced tea. Another confession: I love egg McMuffins too. But every day I carry that McDonald’s cup into my house, I imagine the neighbors are looking out their windows wondering why the fat lady is eating at McDonald’s so much. Even though, logically, I know they are worried about a million other things than me.
We’ve just gone a little crazy in this country about our food judgments. Friends, family, strangers, restaurant personnel…no one feels exempt from commenting on another person’s food choices. It’s got to stop. Food has become a moral barometer and it shouldn’t be.
Our lives are stressful enough. We don’t need to add another facet with food stress. Food should be enjoyed. It should be easy when we need it to be and complicated when we have the time. We should have what we want to eat when we want it. Yup, even McDonald’s.
Let’s all take a vow, especially with the holidays coming: we’ll worry about the things on our own plates and the plates of our kids without passing judgement on anyone else. And we won’t stress if we need to take a short cut. Frozen pizzas and boxed macaroni and cheese are just the antidote to life’s stress, right?!
Do you know the Swiffer commercials featuring the older Jewish couple? Lee and Morty Kaufman? I love them. I love them so much that I’ve tweeted and posted on Facebook about them.
And last week at Aaron’s cast change, I made a reference to them. When the tissue holding cast remains moved and some dust and cotton got on the floor, I said, “Oh Lee and Morty won’t like this at all. Get the Swiffer.”
I got an even stranger look from the doctor and the technician than I got when I did the evil laughter when Aaron said he was scared of the reciprocating saw. Yeah, I’m that mom.
There is something about the Kaufman’s that appeals to me. Maybe it’s that I’ve always wished I were Jewish. It’s a little strange that a German Catholic girl from middle Kansas wants to be Jewish. But I grew up reading Rhea Kohan novels and thought the whole Jewish culture was so much cooler than mine. Then there was The Nanny. Now Howard Wolowitz. You can understand my obsession.
I think Lee and Morty are probably great parents. For goodness sake, they still dance in the kitchen. Sure, they’re not quite humming the same tune. But they’re old. Maybe their hearing is impaired.
Lee is the kind of mother who brings you matzo ball soup and hot tea when you feel bad. She slips into Yiddish when she gets angry. She adores her grandchildren and spoils them all rotten.
Morty adores Lee and his children. He’s full of great advice and always willing to lend a hand.
See how much I’ve thought about this?! I wish they would adopt me…
After last week’s exhausting news developments, I decided I need a break. Remember when I declared Motherhoot a happy shiny place? Full of fluffy clouds and cuddly bunnies? Pictures of kittens and puppies? Well, I meant to declare that at some point. Then I got a little activist going. Health At Every Size. Reproductive. Women’s. Environment. Justice.
I don’t know about you, but I need a break from the media. I have gotten obsessed. I am spending good emotional energy worrying about things that I cannot change. At least not in the big picture. I will do my best to change my little part of the world, but I need a break from saving everyone.
So I’m cutting myself off from the news. It’s going to be hard since I have a ritual of going through the Yahoo news articles. Sharing and commenting, and ingesting the drama from all over the world from things happening to other people.
It’s time to center myself. Take a deep breath and look for the fluffy things again. Cheery, happy things.
Oh, I also considered kicking my Facebook game addiction at the same time. Then I figured out my head would explode so I’m delaying that. Can you send me some Bubble Witch Saga lives, please?!
So how am I doing on the path of Health At Every Size? Size acceptance? Self love?
If you had asked me a few months ago I would have said I’m doing fine…just a little concerned about some weight gain. Because isn’t weight gain always a concern?! Weight has been a concern since childhood.
Then I lost the scale. And I was frantic. I knew it was in the bedroom somewhere. Jim had cleaned out under the bed and didn’t replace everything exactly as it was. So the scale was lost somewhere under there with the containers of gift wrap and Jim’s workout clothes.
I told Jim he had to find it. “Because if I don’t have the scale how do I know whether to hate myself?”
I laughed. I always laugh and make jokes. Even when I don’t feel like it. Better to laugh at myself or the situation than let someone do it first or to feel uncomfortable.
But something inside me stopped because I knew I wasn’t joking. How can I exist without knowing the exact number on the scale on any given day?!
Hate myself. Did I really hate myself because of a number? On a scale? Was one pound either way worth hateful feelings? Would I hate my family or friends for the number on the scale? Of course not! Their numbers don’t matter! But mine…
I thought I was farther along in the HAES journey. I thought I was long passed the scale-as-judge phase. But I wasn’t. I had started weighing myself again because of the weight gain. My rheumatologist told me to watch the weight. My internist suggested weight loss surgery. Of course my mind has been on the scale! That damn number…
I’m trying to get over the number. I’m trying not to weigh myself. I want to throw away the scale…but I can’t. I don’t know why I’m hanging on to it.
That’s where I am. Stuck trying to go beyond the scale but still watching over my shoulder to make sure I don’t get to far away from it. I understand that this is something a lot of people experience. I’ve been told it’s hard to get over the years and years of accumulated messages about weight loss and death fat. Still, I thought I was further along…
I wasn’t even going to write about this. I thought no one needed to hear my whining. Then I saw Golda Poretsky’s TED Talk on weight. It inspired me to share my stumble. Just in case any of you are feeling the same way.
Because we really are more than a number on a scale. We really are people and not just bodies. It really is inside that matters. And weight does not equal health.
If you’re struggling, talk to me. If you’re not struggling any more, talk to me. If you don’t think you’re gorgeous, talk to me–because you are dammit!
Mother’s Day is quickly approaching. And the question on everyone’s mind in KlineLand is, “what do you want?!”
It’s so hard this year because I want…nothing, really. World peace. Cliche, I know, but I mean it. A nice family dinner with laughter and teasing. One week without angst of any kind.
See, I’m a simple girl!
Plus I’ve been trying to do that less-is-more life style. Which my new found love of card making–yes, again!–isn’t helping. But I don’t want things…
Yesterday I finally used one of the two gift certificates for massages I got for last year on Mother’s Day and my birthday. This year they are the same day. It was so nice and relaxing. Plus the masseuse (Carrie at the Elements Massage in Bloomingdale) was fun. I laughed and enjoyed the conversation while getting a massage. Perfect day.
This year I will be 47 years old–oops, I mean something with a 9 in it…29!–and I have everything I want. Or I just buy it when I want it. Except for my convertible. I’m still waiting for that. With the current sun rash I have, the desire to own a convertible seems pretty impractical. I bet my dermatologist would be in heaven if I get one though. A convertible…not another rash. Well, he would appreciate the rash.
Maybe I should just ask for full-body sun protection. That would save all of us from the pain of my complaining…
Lately, I’ve been caught up believing that everyone but me has The Perfect Family. While my family is inundated with problems and angst, other parents tweet their children’s unending stream of age-advanced adorable chatter. Other parents let us know that each of their children has an iPhone and an iPod…and they’re all under 10. The news features stories about tweens who raise funds for deadly illnesses.
Intellectually, I know there is no perfect family. They don’t exist. Each and every family is plagued with something negative. It’s how life works.
Some parents adore their children and abhor each other. Some parents aren’t really happy being parents. Some couples want children and don’t have any. Some families have great relationships with each other, but are forced to live in a car.
That’s why I think bloggers should have an absolute truth day. Weekly–okay monthly–we should vow to share something negative that happened in our homes and how we handled it. We could even open it up for suggestions how others would have handled it.
But I know that won’t happen. For the same reason I enjoy a movie or a book with a happy ending; because I don’t want to focus on the negative or it’s aftermath.
Maybe this is why comedians are often the unhappiest of people. At least that’s the word on the street. They’ve just learned to hide the bad by covering it up with laughter.
But if anyone thinks an absolute truth day would be helpful, leave a comment and I’ll get back to you. Maybe sometimes it’s just right to address the bad along with the good. Because that’s how life works.
Spring break is winding down. I’ve accomplished quite a bit, which is a nice feeling. Next week things will be back to normal–well as normal as they get in KlineLand.
To ring in the holiday weekend, I share with you my favorite commercial. You read that right…favorite commercial. I even stop fast forwarding just to watch this commercial. This little girl is adorable and I want to see her in more things! Movies! Television! Theater! She is my dream daughter! And the adult in this series of commercials is adorable too. I love the way he interacts with the kids. I love that he’s sitting at the kids’ table!
Enjoy! You’re welcome…
It’s Ash Wednesday, the forty days of Lent leading up to Easter. People are not dirty, they have ashes from whatever service they attended to mark the start of this sullen time in the Catholic church. I am not attending a service, but I am observing Lent.
This year I am giving up chocolate. I’m still pondering giving up all added sugar, but that might be to extreme for my body. It could careen into some toxic state and cause irreparable harm!
Several years ago I gave up chocolate and was pleased with my success. I was working at the time and I had the desk with the ever-present chocolate stash. Need a miniature bar? A kiss or two? Come see me and I’ll set you right up.
I wasn’t eating it constantly, nor was I eating a lot, but it was always there and if something got stressful, out it came.
It was incredibly easy to stop the insanity then. Now my reliance on chocolate is a little more intense. I’m into full size dark snickers and dark milkyways. Every night. Hazelnut and chocolate? Sublime! Dark chocolate Kit Kat? Oh my!
But I’m getting control and I’m starting today. I will be successful!
I’ve read that a habit becomes permanent when you do it for 21 days. Well, I’ll let you know in three weeks how this is going!
How about you? Want to give something up with me? Are you already planning abstinence of some sort?