I've been doing this diet thing.... and OMG it has sucked.
It started being the Dukan Diet. You can read all about it somewhere. Use Google. You'll pull up a ton on it.
At any rate, I started the Dukan Diet last Wednesday. If you've Googled at all, you know it starts with what they call the "Attack Phase" where you eat nothing but protein. You can have all the lean meat and fat free dairy you want. That's the basic principle.
It worked, y'all. I lost 7 pounds on the Attack Phase. Seven pounds in five days. Something definitely attacked something. My pants fit better.
So yesterday and today I moved on to the "Cruise Phase" where you get to basically do the exact same thing as the Attack Phase except every other day you can have veggies. Yesterday I got to have veggies and then today I felt like I was being punished and had to move back to that viscous Attack Phase.
So tonight after I fed the family sloppy joes and mac & cheese and then fixed myself an egg white omelet with turkey and a cup of fat free greek yogurt for dinner I decided I needed to reevaluate.
I am miserable. I am snapping at the kids. I am feeling desperate for different foods.
You see, I have a lot of weight to lose. It's not like I can just do this Dukan Diet for a month or two, lose 15 or 20 pounds and move on - if I stick with Dukan for the full amount of weight loss, I will not get to eat a piece of fruit for the next year. Is that possibly even okay to do? And even if it is okay, do I want to be feeling deprived because I can't have an orange for a year?
So I revised my Dukan Diet to something I can live with.
Here it is (if you care):
Unlimited lean proteins and non-starchy vegetables
Unlimited super low fat dairy (less than 2% fat)
One piece of fruit per day
Up to 2 slices of whole grain bread per day
One serving (about 2 ounces) of cheese per day
Up to 5 sugar free treats per day (Jello, a piece of gum, a diet soda, etc)
Two low calorie alcoholic beverages a week
One reasonable celebration meal per week.
Very small amounts of oil for cooking
NO LIST (except for in celebration meal - use discretion with celebration meal!):
Whole fat dairy
Full sugar desserts
**Must drink 64 ounces of water each day**
Exercise has to be up, too. Walking at least 1 mile per day has to happen. I can also do counter push ups, crunches, and squats every day. When I've lost some more weight I plan to add in yoga. Exercise has to happen every single day. No breaks. Even if it's just a walk, something has to happen.
I'm going to ask The Man to take some before pictures and I might even post them. Later. Like - when I can look back at them and think "Wow, I've come so far."
Let's see how this goes.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
I've been doing this diet thing.... and OMG it has sucked.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
I spend a decent amount of time reading blogs and essays written by other moms. Moms who love their children as much as I do, moms who work just as hard, moms who would lay down their lives for their babies. Every mother can tell the story of each and every one of their babies - how they came to be, how they were born, and how they are loved. Sadly, so many mothers can also tell the stories of how their babies were lost.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
(This post is inspired by a post from Jenny From The Blog.)
I'm pretty sure our population is only going to get stupider.
We're defying Darwin with all of our idiot proofing ways and in the next few generations I'm fairly sure we're going to have a bunch of morons bumbling around the planet knocking their heads on sharp corners and falling off of curbs.
My kids don't know what a merry-go-round is. When I mentioned a merry-go-round, they thought I was talking about a carousel complete with horses and benches and lights and music.
Carousels are boring, y'all.
You know what's not boring? A merry-go-round.
Think back to when you were a kid and you played on one of these babies. It was made out of hot metal that had been baking in the sun and you had to pull your shorts down a little and sit all funny on it so none of your bare skin touched the metal and gave you 3rd degree burns. If you were lucky, you had a cool adult with you who would push it really hard and you'd cling to the bars to avoid flying off and going airborne only to get a mouth full of playground sand (because we had sand, not mulch or AstroTurf or bouncy rubbery crap made from recycled tires). If you didn't have an adult with you (because lots of times you were at the playground without an adult - this happened), you might convince another kid to push it, but mostly you'd get it going as fast as you could and then you'd fling yourself on to the hot, dirty surface and ride it until it stopped - eyes closed, head bobbing around, stomach reeling - it was pure joy.
When I was a kid, the playground was not the reason we were at the park, either. We were at the park because of some family function. Probably a picnic or a BBQ and the reason I was at the playground was because I bugged my parents until one of them said "go play"... and I did.
Sometimes my dad and older sister would play tennis at one of our local parks and I'd go along just to play on the playground. I would walk unsupervised to a playground in this park that was so surrounded by trees and foliage that no one would have ever seen if I had been kidnapped. I would swing and slide and merry-go-round, usually without an adult in sight, for as long as I could. And then my dad would take us all to go get a Polar Cup.
You wish you could have a Polar Cup right now.
But I have digressed.
I survived merry-go-rounds and rusty geodesic domes and broken slides and playgrounds where no adult was present. Because I wasn't an idiot. I knew that I could get hurt so I didn't do stupid stuff that would get me hurt. I didn't try to surf the merry-go-round by standing on the handrails and telling another kid to spin it. Other kids did, I watched one break his arm once. We all learned a valuable lesson that day.
But now our kids play on cushioned playgrounds coated with nerf and rubber. There are no sharp edges and no rusty nails and no surfaces that will burn their precious skin. Our homes are baby proofed and our lids are child proofed and our 5 year-olds are riding to kindergarten in car seats.
Every 12 year old has a cell phone and we'd rather they stay inside playing video games after school than ride their bikes to the neighborhood park without us watching their every move. We hover and fret and if they fall we're right there to pick them up and dust them off and kiss their booboos.
And they're growing up to be wimps.
But if you try to fight it, if you try to let your kids have that freedom to learn and grow and fall down and pick themselves up, you're shamed and judged. Or worse, some other parent does it for you. As if the worst thing in the world is my 10 year-old out riding his bike while I'm at home folding his laundry.
It's time to cut the umbilical cord and let our babies go, y'all.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Did you know you can make homemade creamer? Like - instead of buying a chemical concoction to put in your coffee every morning, you can just make your own and not have it be like pouring a carcinogen down your throat every day.
You mix 1 can of sweetened condensed milk with 2 cups of milk and whatever extracts you want in there to flavor it (almond, vanilla, cinnamon, whatev) and BAM! Delicious coffee creamer. Probably costs less, too.
American Apparel should probably pay closer attention to what gets Tweeted and Tumbled by their 19 year old employees. Oops. Way to celebrate our Independence, AA!
This one was interesting and totally had me going - but it was proved false by about.com.
Onions are crazy toxin absorbents. So if you're sick, you should slice one and put it in your sock and it will make you better. Evidently this can work against you if you slice an onion and then put it in your fridge to save. It will absorb all the toxins in the fridge (do our fridges have a lot of toxins in them?) and then you'll eat it on your burger or whatever.
Too bad that's not true.
People love to take pictures of their feet while laying in hammocks. A lot of them make these pictures their profile picture. I think they're trying to make everyone else jealous - but I'm not fooled. It's napalm hot outside right now, I'd rather be in here in my air conditioning than on any beach with my feet in a hammock.
Grasshoppers are loaded with protein. And people eat worms. Lots of worms. Gross.
Holy jeez, I have to try this. We have mangoes coming out of our eyeballs around here every summer and cutting them is super messy. Figures I don't have even one whole mango in the house right now.
If this is any indication, tests to become a US Citizen are way easier than I thought they'd be.
So much about poop. But I totally learned some stuff.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
I found some pictures of Bug today when I was cleaning out some boxes from my old office and my heart just melted. My first baby, Bug saved me. Bug forced me to grow up, to put someone else's needs before my own, to start taking responsibility for myself and to make decisions that would benefit him. Before Bug it was all keggers and parties til the sun came up.
Before Bug came along I barely gave a thought to the future. I knew that one day I'd probably need to think about all that stuff - but it seemed so far away and so unimportant. The only thing I really cared about was not missing out on any fun. Ever. I was barely 22 when I discovered that Bug was growing inside of me and something immediately changed with that positive pregnancy test. My friends were still kids, my boyfriend was still a kid, but I was immediately not a kid.
I was a really, really stupid adult.
Not every decision I made after that was a good one - but every decision I made after that was for Bug.
I can remember so clearly the first moments Bug and I had together at home for the first time. My mother brought us home from the hospital because my then husband was working. She helped me carry my newborn and all of the stuff from the hospital into the living room of the little townhouse we lived in and she helped me get comfortable on the couch. And then she left. With barely a kiss goodbye, she left the two of us alone. For the first time ever.
And I looked at my brand new son sleeping in my lap and I was overwhelmed with my need to provide him with the entire world. We lived on that couch for the first week of his life. A small bassinet next to me, trying to breastfeed and change diapers and sleep and memorize every detail of his little squishy baby face. Those first days are a blur now, but I have never shaken the feeling of ferocious protectiveness I had when I first became a mother.
This year Bug goes to high school. He is FOURTEEN. He'll be (hold me, I'm feeling faint) 15 before 2014 is through.
Do you remember being fifteen? For me it was a year that changed who I was. It was the year I officially went from nice kid to anarchist. I am not ready for a fifteen year old.
Bug's voice is deep and he has hair in weird places. He's going to have to start shaving soon. He wears men's clothing and shoes and uses copious amounts of Axe body spray. He is obsessed with his computer and the world it connects him to. He writes programming for things I can't understand and sleeps until 2 in the afternoon.
It has not always been an easy journey with Bug and we're just getting started with the rocky teenage road that lies ahead of us. I'm hoping with all that I can hope that Bug finds his way this next four years of high school. I'm hoping he can start seeing that his future matters and maybe start making decisions for future Bug.
Monday, June 23, 2014
When I was little I fell in love with Haley Mills. Well, not Haley Mills to be exact - but her character, Pollyanna.
The Glad Game may have irritated all members of Harrington in the Disney movie - but it spoke to me and I played it in my head all the time.
I'm not sure at what age I stopped playing The Glad Game, but it wasn't until I started The Happiness Project that in addition to writing down 3 positive things that happen to me every day, I was playing the game all over again.
Crappy things happen and I try to figure out what's good about them. And it certainly makes things easier to swallow.
I'm two weeks into The Happiness Project and I'm happy to say that it really has improved my state of mind. The first thing I noticed when writing 3 things down every night is that some days it is really difficult to narrow it down. So many great things happen to me every day that trying to pick 3 can be tough. And that's a problem to be glad about right there.
I'm still loving my art journal and have been creating in it most days. Not every day because life is pretty busy with 3 kids home over the summer - but most days I do find some time to put some color down in my journal. I took the time to set up a space for creating and I'm happy to say it's getting a lot of use.
I even picked up a smaller journal for Munchkin because she was having so much fun using the art table that she really needed a place to put her own ideas down to paper. The Man is having a hard time finding something good to say about all the glitter that we've been using and how it's slowly spreading throughout the house in tiny little specks of joy, but Munchkin and I are having a blast.
I highly recommend you putting together one of your own. No one would ever need therapy if everyone just started playing The Glad Game and painting in a book once in a while.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
I have always loved art.
And maybe every little kid does - I know my kids always loved crayons and markers and putting colors to pages.
But I was sort of obsessed with it.
One of my mother's very best friends, Ginger, worked in the Gifts department of Halsey & Griffith. If you grew up in West Palm Beach in the 80s, you may have visited this amazing store of delights as a child. It was touted as an office supply store - but it was so much more than that. It was located in a 3 story building in downtown West Palm Beach, the kind of downtown where you had to parallel park on the street and get your parking validated at the store.
On the first floor was office supplies. To this day I could get lost in an office supply store. All the files and folders and pencils and hard cover notebooks, oh my! Also on the first floor was a gift section, similar to a Hallmark. There were greeting cards and little stuffed animals and trinkets you could purchase and if you asked nicely Ginger would take your purchase into the back and gift wrap it so perfectly in such beautiful paper that you absolutely would feel like it was a shame to tear it open. My mother would spend hours chatting with Ginger while I looked around the store. Perusing the new stuff that came in, looking at the stickers, flipping through the book that held sample wedding invitation templates for brides-to-be to come in and order.
Halsey & Griffith was seriously a store from another era.
Monday, June 9, 2014
I read something this morning that got me thinking.
About being happy.
Stop singing. That song is overdone.
I don't consider myself to be an unhappy person, really. I mean, I have a pretty awesome life when I really think about it. I have The Man who loves me way more than I probably deserve him to love me. I have three healthy kids who make me laugh on a daily basis. I have a super strong family who would drop anything if I needed them. I have amazing friends that I love. I have enough food in my refrigerator, no holes in my roof, two cars that work, and my bills are paid.
Not to say my life doesn't have struggle, because it certainly does. But overall? Pretty damn awesome.
Still, I sometimes find myself dwelling on the negatives and it's just not a good way to live. I want to raise my little monsters to be optimists and go-getters. Even Bug, who tends to be mopey and negative (I should have named him Eeyore), could totally turn that frown upside-down and start looking at the silver linings instead of all the dark clouds. But not if his mom isn't setting that example, right?
So starts The Happiness Project.
(I like making cute graphics.)
I haven't got it all ironed out yet, but I've got my first step figured out. Based on the above mentioned article, I've decided to write down three good things that happened to me every day. But I'm not stopping it there. I'm making an art journal to feature at least one of those happy things. Because that's what I enjoy doing and I don't make time for it. I love being creative and junk but I always push it off to the side. I have to do this, I have to do that. No time for anything else.
So I'm going to make a little time at the end of every day to write down my three happy things and create something artsy that represents one of them. This is going to be so.much.freaking.fun.
I can't wait to debut my happy art.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
All moms should get away every once in a while. Away from kids, work, messy houses, husbands, and pretty much anything else that demands any bit of their time or energy.
Not to say that all of those things aren't worth it - they totally are - we wouldn't be here if they weren't all worth it. The Man is my rock and the thought of him not being in my life causes me great strife and sadness. My kids are my everything - I can't even begin to describe the type of all encompassing love I feel for them. But sometimes I just want to run away from all of them. Does that sound bad? Maybe. Whatever.
They are demanding to me, just as I'm sure I'm demanding to them. And sometimes, I just want to run away and not be around anyone who is demanding anything from me. No dinners to cook, no stinky messes to clean up, no laundry to fold, no emails to answer, no packages to ship.
And that's when I escape with my Besties... even if just for a few hours.
Months and months ago, my Besties and I had planned to take last weekend off and go have a girls weekend. We hoped to be able to find a place where we could park our asses in the sand and have bottomless margarita glasses in our hands and laugh until our sides ached - for a full 48 hours. Unfortunately that didn't work out - we all ended up having commitments that didn't allow for us to run away for too long - but we did manage to sneak away for one blissful evening.
I wanted to see the sunset over Lake Okeechobee. It had been about 2 1/2 years since the last time I had ventured out to the Big O to watch the sunset with The Man and the kids and I'd been craving another sunset - this time with my Besties.
So, after we had all done all of the family things we had to do for the day (for me it was a flight with Young Eagles for Goober and a graduation party for my amazing nephew), my Besties and I met up. We packed up the car with chairs, cameras and refreshments and we headed west.
The laughter ensued before we had even gotten out of town. There is nothing like the silly, inappropriate, stupid laughter that can only come from four middle aged women who are free from their responsibilities for a few hours. Nothing.
It took about an hour and we reached my favorite sunset spot at Port Mayaca (anyone in the general vicinity of the eastern shore of the lake should venture over there one sunset - you will not be disappointed). After a very frightening Thelma and Louise (and Thelma and Louise) moment where I was sure we were about to plummet off a small cliff into a feeder canal, we parked and dragged our crap down to the edge of the water.
Our drive back consisted of us getting just a little lost in a town called Canal Point (only a little lost because the whole town encompasses 1.5 square miles - seriously - Google it), laughing hysterically, a forced stop to pee on the side of State Road 80, and a little bit of indecency. It was everything it should have been and more.
We finished up the night by singing songs from our youth while drinking beer on the dock of a much, much smaller lake behind one Bestie's house. It was magical and very much needed.