"If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you've always gotten." -I don't know who said this, but it's on Pinterest all the time.
Here's what I've always done: Feel fat, start exercising, try to eat less or healthier, lose some weight, don't reach my goal weight, get sick of feeling hungry and deprived all the time, get discouraged because I'm not reaching my goal weight and it's taking FOREVER, eat little snacks througout the day, justify that said snacks are okay, and eventually give up for awhile, having lost some weight but still feeling like a failure because I didn't do what I set out to do.
I do have a couple of advantages. The first is that I do know a lot of the principles of eating healthy. Also, once I lose weight, it doesn't immediately come back. I attribute that to knowing mostly how to eat healthy.
You want to know something interesting? A lot of people think they'll be happy when they lose the extra weight. A lot of those same people aren't happy if and when they do.
There is no magic pill for permanent weight loss. Weight loss is not a magic pill for feeling happy.
What is the phrase? Mind Blown.
Have you ever read the writings of Geneen Roth? She has some interesting things to say. Plus, she's an interesting writer, which makes her books fun to read. Basically, she decided one day, after years and years of dieting and bingeing and being anywhere from anorexic to obese, that she was no longer going to diet. Ever. It wasn't worth it.
The first year on this plan, she ate ice cream and cakes and cookies and learned to love and listen to her body and her instincts. She gained 15 pounds.
The second year on this plan, she practiced loving and respecting and listening to her body. She lost 30 pounds, and has been there ever since. She learned to be happy being herself at whatever weight she was, and because she loved her body, she wanted to take care of it.
I like that plan. I want to listen to my body. I've been trying it for the last few months. It's been fun. It's been surprisingly hard. It continues to be hard. It continues to be fun. I'm still learning. I don't think I went quite as batty as Geneen did when she stopped dieting, but I have begun to enjoy this whole eating thing.
Stay tuned... there will be more to come on this topic!
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Monday, April 30, 2012
The Glass: A Discussion
P: Your glass is half empty.
O: Is it?
R: Well, it's a 10 ounce glass, and there are currently 5 ounces of orange juice in it.
O: I only put 8 ounces in there to begin with. Maybe it's 5/8 full.
R: The fact remains, it's a 10 ounce glass, and there are 5 ounces of orange juice. That means we have 5 ounces of orange juice. If you transferred the juice to a 5 ounce glass, the glass would be completely full.
P: That doesn't solve the problem at all. If you change the shape of the problem, it still remains the same problem. There used to be 8 ounces, and now there are only 5. The orange juice is disappearing.
O: But I like this glass. I don't want a smaller one. This one fits my hand nicely.
R: The size of the glass doesn't matter. What matters is how much orange juice you have now.
O: The size of the glass does matter. There is more potential with a bigger glass.
R: Why would more potential matter? You have 8 ounces of juice; you should have an 8 ounce glass.
P: Actually, the juice is disappearing. There were 8 ounces. Now there are 5.
O: Actually, now we're down to 1 ounce of juice.
P: Ah! The rate of disappearance is increasing!
R: Which means we now need a 1 ounce cup.
O: But I started with 8 ounces of juice.
R: That doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is what you have now.
P: The past definitely matters! There should be a bigger glass to begin with. If the rate of disappearance keeps increasing, you need to start with an infinitely large glass.
O: That's... a little ridiculous.
R: That's completely ridiculous. The rate of disappearance doesn't matter. All that matters is what is in the glass now. Why give yourself a bigger glass to make you think things are better than they are?
P: It's not to make you think things are better than they are. It's to give you a better chance of having enough orange juice even though it keeps disappearing.
R: What is enough? You have what you have, no more, no less.
O: Unless you drink it all, in which case you have none left.
P: Your glass is empty.
O: Or my stomach is half full.
P: Doesn't that make you sad?
R: Why sad? What is the point of being sad about the lack of orange juice? It is what it is.
P: But now there's no more.
O: Unless I pour more.
R: How much are you pouring?
P: Aha! You did start with a bigger glass! Or, pitcher.
O: Or an orange tree. Hey look! My glass is full!
P: Until you drink it all.
O: Funny thing about that...
O: Is it?
R: Well, it's a 10 ounce glass, and there are currently 5 ounces of orange juice in it.
O: I only put 8 ounces in there to begin with. Maybe it's 5/8 full.
R: The fact remains, it's a 10 ounce glass, and there are 5 ounces of orange juice. That means we have 5 ounces of orange juice. If you transferred the juice to a 5 ounce glass, the glass would be completely full.
P: That doesn't solve the problem at all. If you change the shape of the problem, it still remains the same problem. There used to be 8 ounces, and now there are only 5. The orange juice is disappearing.
O: But I like this glass. I don't want a smaller one. This one fits my hand nicely.
R: The size of the glass doesn't matter. What matters is how much orange juice you have now.
O: The size of the glass does matter. There is more potential with a bigger glass.
R: Why would more potential matter? You have 8 ounces of juice; you should have an 8 ounce glass.
P: Actually, the juice is disappearing. There were 8 ounces. Now there are 5.
O: Actually, now we're down to 1 ounce of juice.
P: Ah! The rate of disappearance is increasing!
R: Which means we now need a 1 ounce cup.
O: But I started with 8 ounces of juice.
R: That doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is what you have now.
P: The past definitely matters! There should be a bigger glass to begin with. If the rate of disappearance keeps increasing, you need to start with an infinitely large glass.
O: That's... a little ridiculous.
R: That's completely ridiculous. The rate of disappearance doesn't matter. All that matters is what is in the glass now. Why give yourself a bigger glass to make you think things are better than they are?
P: It's not to make you think things are better than they are. It's to give you a better chance of having enough orange juice even though it keeps disappearing.
R: What is enough? You have what you have, no more, no less.
O: Unless you drink it all, in which case you have none left.
P: Your glass is empty.
O: Or my stomach is half full.
P: Doesn't that make you sad?
R: Why sad? What is the point of being sad about the lack of orange juice? It is what it is.
P: But now there's no more.
O: Unless I pour more.
R: How much are you pouring?
P: Aha! You did start with a bigger glass! Or, pitcher.
O: Or an orange tree. Hey look! My glass is full!
P: Until you drink it all.
O: Funny thing about that...
Friday, April 13, 2012
Why I Don't Wear Makeup
“I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I
believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when
everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the
prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in
miracles.”
― Audrey Hepburn
I believe in love. I believe in laughter, in color, in wonder, and in waterfalls. I believe in the power of words and pictures and music. I believe in listening to other people. I believe in listening to myself. I believe that being outside with horses can heal people. I believe that everyone can be truly awe-inspiringly awesome.
- Me
Here's the thing. I like makeup. I enjoy wearing it. I applaud those who wear makeup- even more so if they wear it well and dutifully take it off every night.
This post is in no way a crusade against makeup. It happens to be my personal reasons for not usually wearing makeup.
I also think it's one of the more interesting things about me.
Ready?
Here we go.
I look in the mirror many times a day. Mostly, that's because I have the world's smallest bladder, and there's a mirror in almost every bathroom in the world. (I've been to China. It's true there, and it's true here. That's got to be a majority of the world, right?) When I wear makeup, I see a very pretty face in the mirror. It's been artfully crafted to have just the right amount of color in all the right places. My eyelashes are dark and long and make my eyes pop. My lips are shimmery. My skin is uniform, except where I have carefully placed blush. I'm not perfect at doing makeup by any means, but there is no argument that makeup makes a big difference on my face. I like it.
When I don't wear makeup, I also like my face. Nothing is very uniform, but it's clean. It's fresh. I happen to think it's a pretty face. I like thinking I have a pretty face.
When I wear makeup every day, I have to take it off every day. That means that twice a day, once before I put it on and once after I take it off, I get to see my real face. Then, I get an almost immediate comparison of makeup-face vs. non-makeup-face. Both are pretty. Non-makeup-face is, by design, less "perfect" and uniform and eye-poppy than makeup-face. On occasion, this is okay. However, if I do it every day, non-makeup-face starts to feel inferior to makeup-face. This, of course, leads to all sorts of self-concept-bashing that I just don't need to deal with in the morning. Or ever.
"In an ideal world no one would talk before 10am. People would just hug because waking up is hard"
-Zooey Deschanel.
Apparently I'm feeling quotey today. :)
So, there you have it. I don't wear makeup because I want to like looking at my real face in the mirror every day. And, you know what? I do.
― Audrey Hepburn
I believe in love. I believe in laughter, in color, in wonder, and in waterfalls. I believe in the power of words and pictures and music. I believe in listening to other people. I believe in listening to myself. I believe that being outside with horses can heal people. I believe that everyone can be truly awe-inspiringly awesome.
- Me
Here's the thing. I like makeup. I enjoy wearing it. I applaud those who wear makeup- even more so if they wear it well and dutifully take it off every night.
This post is in no way a crusade against makeup. It happens to be my personal reasons for not usually wearing makeup.
I also think it's one of the more interesting things about me.
Ready?
Here we go.
I look in the mirror many times a day. Mostly, that's because I have the world's smallest bladder, and there's a mirror in almost every bathroom in the world. (I've been to China. It's true there, and it's true here. That's got to be a majority of the world, right?) When I wear makeup, I see a very pretty face in the mirror. It's been artfully crafted to have just the right amount of color in all the right places. My eyelashes are dark and long and make my eyes pop. My lips are shimmery. My skin is uniform, except where I have carefully placed blush. I'm not perfect at doing makeup by any means, but there is no argument that makeup makes a big difference on my face. I like it.
When I don't wear makeup, I also like my face. Nothing is very uniform, but it's clean. It's fresh. I happen to think it's a pretty face. I like thinking I have a pretty face.
When I wear makeup every day, I have to take it off every day. That means that twice a day, once before I put it on and once after I take it off, I get to see my real face. Then, I get an almost immediate comparison of makeup-face vs. non-makeup-face. Both are pretty. Non-makeup-face is, by design, less "perfect" and uniform and eye-poppy than makeup-face. On occasion, this is okay. However, if I do it every day, non-makeup-face starts to feel inferior to makeup-face. This, of course, leads to all sorts of self-concept-bashing that I just don't need to deal with in the morning. Or ever.
"In an ideal world no one would talk before 10am. People would just hug because waking up is hard"
-Zooey Deschanel.
Apparently I'm feeling quotey today. :)
So, there you have it. I don't wear makeup because I want to like looking at my real face in the mirror every day. And, you know what? I do.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Little Girl Awesomeness
Me: Where are you?
Schprid: I in the floor!
Me: You're in the floor?
Schprid: No, I up here!
Me, thinking about all the things she could be getting into or falling off of "up here": Should I be nervous?
Schprid: Yeah!
Yesterday, we were at Grammy and O's house, which is the receptacle of all the fun toys ever invented. As Schprid was playing on the slide, I tossed a nerf football from two feet away, which hit her on the side of her face. We all laughed about it. A few minutes later, she posed for the shot and requested, "Mommy, you throw the ball and hit my face?" We all laughed again, this time harder. Apparently, though, Mommy's laughing looks painful, because the Schprid came over, gave me a big hug, and asked, "Mommy, you okay?" This landed me on the floor, laughing still harder, at which point she admonished, "Mommy, you calm down!"
Schprid: I in the floor!
Me: You're in the floor?
Schprid: No, I up here!
Me, thinking about all the things she could be getting into or falling off of "up here": Should I be nervous?
Schprid: Yeah!
Yesterday, we were at Grammy and O's house, which is the receptacle of all the fun toys ever invented. As Schprid was playing on the slide, I tossed a nerf football from two feet away, which hit her on the side of her face. We all laughed about it. A few minutes later, she posed for the shot and requested, "Mommy, you throw the ball and hit my face?" We all laughed again, this time harder. Apparently, though, Mommy's laughing looks painful, because the Schprid came over, gave me a big hug, and asked, "Mommy, you okay?" This landed me on the floor, laughing still harder, at which point she admonished, "Mommy, you calm down!"
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Going Blue
We're going green.
Or, rather, we're going blue.
Let me explain.
No, take too long. Let me sum up. (50 points if you can name that movie!)
(My husband just got 50 points. I'm so very proud.)
Several months ago, we got two extra trash cans on our property. As is appropriate, the one for yard waste is green. It makes sense, and is aesthetically pleasing when you put the lawn clippings inside.
That leaves only one other logical color for the recycling bin- blue. It also makes sense; last time I checked, 70% of the world was ocean, which makes it, very pleasingly, blue. Unless, of course, we overrun the ocean with our factories and sludge, in which case the oceans will apparently turn brown.
We, of course, are now recycling, so the ocean won't turn brown on our account. :)
All of this leaves me with a problem. You see, when I go to put our excess newspapers and unused coupons in the recycling bin, I pat myself on the back and think, "We're totally going green!" Of course, at that point, I put our excess newspapers and unused coupons in the green trash can. They slowly float to the bottom, nestle in amongst the sad leftover grass clippings from last summer, and taunt me because I can't reach them.
Then, I slap myself on the forehead and scold myself. "Blue! We're going BLUE, not green. Stupid, freched, sldisjhaosdkjeoskdl..." The neighbors, who have been alerted by my shouting and are anticipating a show, peek out their windows to see me trying to jump in the garbage can to retrieve the offending papers. Then, because the garbage can is on wheels, it tips over, with me stuck inside, legs hanging out the top, as the lid slams down and smacks me in the behind. Success! I can reach the papers. I do so, and slowly crawl back out of the garbage can, trying in vain to brush the grass bits from my hair and clothes. I leave the can laying on the ground. Stupid garbage can. It has no business being green. Finally, I can drop the papers in the blue recycle bin, where they belong.
Because we live on a blue planet. Not green.
Definitely not green.
Stupid garbage cans.
Or, rather, we're going blue.
Let me explain.
No, take too long. Let me sum up. (50 points if you can name that movie!)
(My husband just got 50 points. I'm so very proud.)
Several months ago, we got two extra trash cans on our property. As is appropriate, the one for yard waste is green. It makes sense, and is aesthetically pleasing when you put the lawn clippings inside.
That leaves only one other logical color for the recycling bin- blue. It also makes sense; last time I checked, 70% of the world was ocean, which makes it, very pleasingly, blue. Unless, of course, we overrun the ocean with our factories and sludge, in which case the oceans will apparently turn brown.
We, of course, are now recycling, so the ocean won't turn brown on our account. :)
All of this leaves me with a problem. You see, when I go to put our excess newspapers and unused coupons in the recycling bin, I pat myself on the back and think, "We're totally going green!" Of course, at that point, I put our excess newspapers and unused coupons in the green trash can. They slowly float to the bottom, nestle in amongst the sad leftover grass clippings from last summer, and taunt me because I can't reach them.
Then, I slap myself on the forehead and scold myself. "Blue! We're going BLUE, not green. Stupid, freched, sldisjhaosdkjeoskdl..." The neighbors, who have been alerted by my shouting and are anticipating a show, peek out their windows to see me trying to jump in the garbage can to retrieve the offending papers. Then, because the garbage can is on wheels, it tips over, with me stuck inside, legs hanging out the top, as the lid slams down and smacks me in the behind. Success! I can reach the papers. I do so, and slowly crawl back out of the garbage can, trying in vain to brush the grass bits from my hair and clothes. I leave the can laying on the ground. Stupid garbage can. It has no business being green. Finally, I can drop the papers in the blue recycle bin, where they belong.
Because we live on a blue planet. Not green.
Definitely not green.
Stupid garbage cans.
Monday, February 6, 2012
On a Lighter Note
Thank you, friends, for your wonderful responses to my last post. I have gotten through a few of the things that have been stressing me out, and now I'm back at the normal level of craziness. Life is pretty good. And, I would like to share one of my favorite songs with you. Enjoy!
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Sharing Myself
Today, I don't like myself.
Do you ever have days like that? I hope not.
I see myself, today, as a complete failure. I see my past successes as nothing more than lucky guesses and help from wonderful people around me. I see future successes as complete impossibilities. I work so hard, feel that I do so much. Yet still I fail. How can I do more? How can I possibly do what I would need to do to succeed in anything, when doing what I do now is so hard, so tiring? I suppose I could do more. I could wrap myself up in emotional armor, and smile at everyone, and speak cheerfully, and think long and hard about how I could squeeze a few more minutes out of my day and a few more tries to be better out of my heart.
Unfortunately, while the minutes and the tries make me feel as though I'm doing better, I'm not sure that, in actuality, I really am doing any better.
Better at what? I don't really know. Everything.
Everything is a lot to tackle.
The smiles and the armor don't take away the tears that are, even now, running down my cheeks.
I share this with you because I've been here before. I'm familiar with this place. As much as I like to think it helps, the armor doesn't do any good. I'm sharing with you, because right now, it's not too bad. I'm sharing with you because you're my friend. I trust you with the pain I feel right now, and hope that by sharing I'm not burdening you too much.
Nobody's life is roses and sunshine all the time. Nobody's life is bad poetry all the time. I'm sharing with you because right now, I need you. I won't always burden you so, but for right now, may I please feel that I can always burden you?
Thank you for being my friend.
Do you ever have days like that? I hope not.
I see myself, today, as a complete failure. I see my past successes as nothing more than lucky guesses and help from wonderful people around me. I see future successes as complete impossibilities. I work so hard, feel that I do so much. Yet still I fail. How can I do more? How can I possibly do what I would need to do to succeed in anything, when doing what I do now is so hard, so tiring? I suppose I could do more. I could wrap myself up in emotional armor, and smile at everyone, and speak cheerfully, and think long and hard about how I could squeeze a few more minutes out of my day and a few more tries to be better out of my heart.
Unfortunately, while the minutes and the tries make me feel as though I'm doing better, I'm not sure that, in actuality, I really am doing any better.
Better at what? I don't really know. Everything.
Everything is a lot to tackle.
The smiles and the armor don't take away the tears that are, even now, running down my cheeks.
I share this with you because I've been here before. I'm familiar with this place. As much as I like to think it helps, the armor doesn't do any good. I'm sharing with you, because right now, it's not too bad. I'm sharing with you because you're my friend. I trust you with the pain I feel right now, and hope that by sharing I'm not burdening you too much.
Nobody's life is roses and sunshine all the time. Nobody's life is bad poetry all the time. I'm sharing with you because right now, I need you. I won't always burden you so, but for right now, may I please feel that I can always burden you?
Thank you for being my friend.
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