Archive for the ‘confession’ Category

Here’s to the best dad ever!

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?

An 11 year old Spanish boy was so afraid of his parents’ attendance at his parent-teacher conference that he faked his own kidnapping. His father, a policeman, rallied the forces and began searching for the abducted pre-teen. Then he noticed keys to another apartment were missing. Upon investigating, he found his son safe and sound…and in a bit more trouble than if his parents had merely gone to the conference!

I love kids (except for my own) when they pull things like this. I love how their minds work. I wish I could talk to this boy to find out what his plans were. Would he appear somewhere and claim he was dumped by the kidnappers? Would he let someone rescue him?

But I will put my money on the fact that he never thought one neuron past “being kidnapped will keep Mom and Dad from meeting with my teacher.” That’s how kids think. They live in the moment. They don’t give one thought to the consequences beyond, “jumping off this roof will be soooo cool!”

Broken bones and ambulance rides are never considered.

Unlike adults. We can’t help but think of the consequences of any of our actions. We over analyze. We over think. We plot and plan until the opportunity passes us by and we are left thinking, “what happened?!”

There has to be a happy medium here. Somewhere between no thought and over thought lies the perfect land of decision making.

I talk myself out of a hundred good ideas every week. OK, they’re probably not ALL good. But I actually don’t know because I don’t try them out. Maybe there really is a market for alpaca sweaters–I don’t mean sweaters made FROM alpaca wool I mean sweaters FOR alpaca. They would look so cute! I mean, shetland ponies are wearing shetland sweaters!

I got some advice from Suzanne Jenkins who guest blogged here earlier this week. She told me not to censor myself. To go for it.

I am going to go for it. I am going to only moderately censor myself. I mean, I am a mother and wife…my craziness needs to be somewhat contained.

Look out world!

The December doldrums have set in. There’s something about this time of year that just gets to me. I know I’m not alone, but that only makes me feel marginally better. If I know this feeling is coming, why can’t I get over it?!

For parents, this time of year is riddled with guilty feelings.

• Am I buying my kids to much?
• Am I buying them to little?
• Will they become little brats demanding material things, never realizing the true meaning of the season?
• How can I teach lessons that things are not what makes you happy when the tree is surrounded by presents?
• If I don’t deck the halls with every Christmas decoration available, am I robbing your kids of the Christmas experience?
• If I think that the Holiday Store at the elementary school is the biggest waste of money and refuse to participate, does this make me a bad parent?
• If I think Elf on The Shelf is a scam and don’t want to participate, are my kids missing out?
• If I don’t make ten different kinds of Christmas cookies because I try not to have a lot of junk food around, will my kids turn into junk food junkies?

See all the angst the season produces for me?! And this is only the tip of the ice berg. Questions like these run through my mind constantly during the month of December. Add in Aaron’s birthday on December 5th, and I am a simpering ball of pathetic trying to be a decent parent.

Yes, my only aspiration is “decent.” I know I can’t be perfect. I’m just hoping that none of my kids pens a Mommy-Dearest type tome during my lifetime. With my luck one of them will and it will be all about how I sucked as a holiday mom.

Anyone else feel this way?!

You might remember when I declared myself a brave brave woman because I went completely grey. I stayed that way for over a year. The thing is, that while I had two patches of cool white hair, the rest of my hair was the color of corrugated pipe. Have you ever ever heard someone declare they ever wanted to look like corrugated pipe?!

Of course not! Mottled grey is not an attractive nor becoming color on anyone.

I had to switch hair dressers when the last one took liberties with my hair cut. Yup, she looked at the proposed picture and instead cut my hair into the requisite old-lady short pixie cut. Which was fine a year earlier when I wanted the color cut off. But as a real-life pay money and pretend to like it hair cut? No way!

So I slunk off to South Elgin to visit a stylist recommended by Kelly and her daughters. But she no longer worked there and instead, I was gifted Bobby Berry, The Hair Whisperer. This guy knows his stuff.

I let him give me a few hair cuts. The second one he asked, “what are we going to do about this color?” I was strong. I resisted.

But I started thinking. Because it just wasn’t working for me. Maybe if I had great hair that was all white it would be different. But, you know, corrugated pipe…

Last time I said, “color me” and we went with a nice color. Jim’s face when he saw it was priceless–and worth having it done. Apparently my husband is also not a fan of corrugated pipe grey. But he’s to nice to say anything! Gotta love him!

This time I gave him carte blanche with the cut and went a little darker and funkier with the color. Oh, yeah, red is back! I love it! The color and the cut are both perfect!

And, Bobby Berry…he declared me a “big ball of fabulous!” I’m so keeping him! And he loves nuns!

Here in America, we have a tendency to focus on something and suddenly it happens everywhere. I don’t know if this happens in other cultures. I don’t know if it happens more because we live in an instantaneous/share everything/share immediately society. We no longer have to be the nosy neighbor on the front porch checking out the neighbors; we can read their blogs and their twitter streams to see what’s happening.

Suddenly, information is everywhere about bullying. Everyone has a story about being bullied (I’ve told some of mine). A few of us have admitted to being a bully (yes, I’ve done that too). But not every cross word spoken your way is bullying.

I cheered when I saw journalist Jennifer Livingston spoke out to the man who criticized her for her weight. He made assumptions about her health from her looks and deserved to be publicly chastised. She didn’t ask him for his opinion. As far as I know, she never asked any of her viewing audience for comments on her appearance and health.

But was she bullied? When I saw the upsurge in comments about Livingston being bullied, I kept thinking: “nope, she was criticized.” Because it was a one-time thing and he wasn’t exactly cruel. Unless there’s more to this story and the gentleman has been writing her and calling her repeatedly, calling her fat. Since that hasn’t come out, I am assuming it hasn’t been happening.

Finally, I saw an article about Octavia Spencer’s thoughts about the incident and they were in line with my own.

It isn’t bullying if it only happens one time. According to the Merriam-Webster on-line dictionary, bullying is defined as: 1. to treat abusively and 2. to affect by means of force or coercion. Spencer’s definition is ”facing coercion or physical repercussions on a daily basis.”

Bullying is a problem. And where it exists, it should be fought. People should be enlightened about the how and why of bullying. But defining every cross or critical word as bullying diminishes it when it really occurs.

Livingston is a hero to many people, me included. She had the means and the guts to do what many people dream of daily. But her experience is completely different than the children who are bullied every day for being different. They are the ones being truly bullied. They are the ones who can’t or won’t or don’t know how to fight back. They’re the ones that need our help.