Resolutions. And also, deadbeat moms. Thoughts?

I've been thinking about a New Year's Resolution for about, oh, 8 or 9 days now.  I know...procrastinate much? The answer is yes, I do.  But I always make a big, glorious resolution and it lasts for a big, glorious month and then I loose steam and energy and motivation and am left for the rest of the year with a big, glorious anger toward my un-realized resolution.  Oh, and my resolution always, always involves losing a gazillion pounds and finds me looking svelte and chic in a time frame that is not advisable (usually around 1 month.  Okay, I give myself 6 months...usually I have it all planned out for bathing suit season, which I don't believe is an actual "season" where I live.).

Not this year.  This year is different.  This year I bit off an amount I can actually chew.  This year there isn't really a "resolution," per se, it's mostly just a word: healthy.  I want to be healthy and I am not attaching a number to it.  I don't even really have a plan as to how I'm going to get to that healthy point other than taking it one day at a time, tracking my calories in and calories out.  I figure I'm just going to stop feeling unhealthy and I'm going to start feeling healthy. One. Day. At. A. Time.

Seems simple enough, don't you think?

Here's a story: last night we got dressed up to go to Uriah's work Christmas party (I almost typed program like it was going to be a bunch of chef-type people and hotel-type people and corporate-type people getting together and singing songs and doing a little dance number for the audience.  It was a party.  There were drink tickets and dinner and allegedly some entertainment that we didn't stick around for because we have kids and a 30 minute drive back up the shore.).  Anyway, so it was a party, which means we got to get dressed up.  And I got this cute new shirt (that I didn't try on, but it was $7 on clearance at Old Navy so I figured, what the hell, it'll work fine), and I got a cute new necklace to go with my cute new shirt (I paid full price for the necklace.  I can't even type the price because it was shocking.  More than I ever spend on jewelry and I usually spend $0 on jewelry because the only jewelry I wear with any consistency is my wedding ring, but I figured its price balanced my clearance priced shirt.).  I squeezed my buns into some dress pants and shoved my feet into some heels.  All in all, I thought it was good.  Until I looked in the mirror.  I had some doubts about the cuteness factor of the shirt...it was a little shapeless and when your body is rather - shall we just go with curvy here? - okay, curvy it is...when you have a curvy top half, shapeless is not a good look.  Actually, shapeless is not a good look for anyone, but as the time was tick-tocking and we had to drive into the big city, I figured my new haircut and some makeup would take the attention off of my shirt and I hustled downstairs.

Matronly.  A word worse than shapeless is matronly and that's how my husband said I looked.  My face must have relayed my inner shock and disbelief because he quickly started back-peddling and telling me that I just looked like a mom who was dressed up to go out for the night.

Not. Any. Better.

I went upstairs as quick as my matronly mom-legs could take me and proceeded to rip through my closet looking for something, anything that didn't make me look old and frumpy.  Because I read between the lines and that's what I heard my husband saying: I was a 34 year old frumpy mom who was trying too hard to get dressed up and go out to dinner.  I'm sure he probably meant that I was looking good, since anything is a step above yoga pants.  And I'd actually taken the time to dry and flat iron my hair and I was wearing full-on make-up (not just mascara...I had eye shadow and lip gloss and everything.  It was a big deal!).  But I was devastated.  And of course nothing he said made me feel better and nothing in my closet was appropriate and nothing in my screwed-up brain was positive.  I tried on 17 different shirts before I realized that if we didn't leave 10 minutes ago we were going to be late.  I put on the original matron-shirt and we left.

I had 30 minutes to calm myself down a little bit and I didn't cry because...make-up, remember?  I didn't have the time or energy to repair that shit.  And Uriah tried to bring me out of my funk.  And I texted my gal, Bees and she, of course, had helpful, lovely things to say that boosted my spirits.

But really...this whole bag of matronly melt-down are my own issues rearing their fat heads again.  It's my own mind and my own lack of ambition and will-power and resolution to be better, to be healthier - eat more healthfully, exercise consistently, think positive thoughts and let the yuck slide off my back.  So last night in the car as we drove towards a ballroom full of people I didn't really know, I stopped caring what they were going to think of my shapeless shirt.  In fact, I stopped thinking about it all together.  I wrapped the word healthy into my head and I vowed to do better.  One day at a time, I will do better.  Because at the end of the day, my husband will still kiss me and tell me I'm pretty like a post card - and I usually don't even have make-up on when he says that, so I know he means it.  He makes thoughtless comments, but then so do I, I suppose.  At least we know enough to apologize for our thoughtless comments.  And at least I know enough to start on the inside and work my way out.

Exercise my brain muscle first...everything else will fall into place.

In addition to my matronly mom issues, I've been stewing on deadbeat mom issues all day long.  Stewing, for me, requires researching.  Did you even know this was an issue?  It is.  It totally, sadly is.  Some studies say that the percentage of deadbeat moms is actually higher than that of deadbeat dads.  I am a mom (obviously) and right now it is completely beyond my realm of comprehension, but I am trying to educate myself so that I can speak thoughtfully on a subject that blows my mind.  I wish so many things of our society, but the one I wish the most is that men and women were treated equally - and that includes areas of custodial and non-custodial parenting rights and responsibilities.  The research part of my brain encourages me to look at all of the facts, weigh all of the statistics and theories.  The mom/wife part of me wants to rage, and rage loudly, at the unfairness of it all.

Part of being healthy this year is going to be letting go of things that I have no control over.  It may also be a healthy throat punch to stupid people.  Maybe.  Possibly.

2014 - healthy mind, healthy body, one day at a time.



Oh, and I'm thinking of getting a dog, but that might be too big of  a commitment for 2014; I think my plate might be full.  Maybe 2015 will be the year of the dog...

I've been thinking about a New Year's Resolution for about, oh, 8 or 9 days now.  I know...procrastinate much? The answer is yes, I do.  But I always make a big, glorious resolution and it lasts for a big, glorious month and then I loose steam and energy and motivation and am left for the rest of the year with a big, glorious anger toward my un-realized resolution.  Oh, and my resolution always, always involves losing a gazillion pounds and finds me looking svelte and chic in a time frame that is not advisable (usually around 1 month.  Okay, I give myself 6 months...usually I have it all planned out for bathing suit season, which I don't believe is an actual "season" where I live.).

Not this year.  This year is different.  This year I bit off an amount I can actually chew.  This year there isn't really a "resolution," per se, it's mostly just a word: healthy.  I want to be healthy and I am not attaching a number to it.  I don't even really have a plan as to how I'm going to get to that healthy point other than taking it one day at a time, tracking my calories in and calories out.  I figure I'm just going to stop feeling unhealthy and I'm going to start feeling healthy. One. Day. At. A. Time.

Seems simple enough, don't you think?

Here's a story: last night we got dressed up to go to Uriah's work Christmas party (I almost typed program like it was going to be a bunch of chef-type people and hotel-type people and corporate-type people getting together and singing songs and doing a little dance number for the audience.  It was a party.  There were drink tickets and dinner and allegedly some entertainment that we didn't stick around for because we have kids and a 30 minute drive back up the shore.).  Anyway, so it was a party, which means we got to get dressed up.  And I got this cute new shirt (that I didn't try on, but it was $7 on clearance at Old Navy so I figured, what the hell, it'll work fine), and I got a cute new necklace to go with my cute new shirt (I paid full price for the necklace.  I can't even type the price because it was shocking.  More than I ever spend on jewelry and I usually spend $0 on jewelry because the only jewelry I wear with any consistency is my wedding ring, but I figured its price balanced my clearance priced shirt.).  I squeezed my buns into some dress pants and shoved my feet into some heels.  All in all, I thought it was good.  Until I looked in the mirror.  I had some doubts about the cuteness factor of the shirt...it was a little shapeless and when your body is rather - shall we just go with curvy here? - okay, curvy it is...when you have a curvy top half, shapeless is not a good look.  Actually, shapeless is not a good look for anyone, but as the time was tick-tocking and we had to drive into the big city, I figured my new haircut and some makeup would take the attention off of my shirt and I hustled downstairs.

Matronly.  A word worse than shapeless is matronly and that's how my husband said I looked.  My face must have relayed my inner shock and disbelief because he quickly started back-peddling and telling me that I just looked like a mom who was dressed up to go out for the night.

Not. Any. Better.

I went upstairs as quick as my matronly mom-legs could take me and proceeded to rip through my closet looking for something, anything that didn't make me look old and frumpy.  Because I read between the lines and that's what I heard my husband saying: I was a 34 year old frumpy mom who was trying too hard to get dressed up and go out to dinner.  I'm sure he probably meant that I was looking good, since anything is a step above yoga pants.  And I'd actually taken the time to dry and flat iron my hair and I was wearing full-on make-up (not just mascara...I had eye shadow and lip gloss and everything.  It was a big deal!).  But I was devastated.  And of course nothing he said made me feel better and nothing in my closet was appropriate and nothing in my screwed-up brain was positive.  I tried on 17 different shirts before I realized that if we didn't leave 10 minutes ago we were going to be late.  I put on the original matron-shirt and we left.

I had 30 minutes to calm myself down a little bit and I didn't cry because...make-up, remember?  I didn't have the time or energy to repair that shit.  And Uriah tried to bring me out of my funk.  And I texted my gal, Bees and she, of course, had helpful, lovely things to say that boosted my spirits.

But really...this whole bag of matronly melt-down are my own issues rearing their fat heads again.  It's my own mind and my own lack of ambition and will-power and resolution to be better, to be healthier - eat more healthfully, exercise consistently, think positive thoughts and let the yuck slide off my back.  So last night in the car as we drove towards a ballroom full of people I didn't really know, I stopped caring what they were going to think of my shapeless shirt.  In fact, I stopped thinking about it all together.  I wrapped the word healthy into my head and I vowed to do better.  One day at a time, I will do better.  Because at the end of the day, my husband will still kiss me and tell me I'm pretty like a post card - and I usually don't even have make-up on when he says that, so I know he means it.  He makes thoughtless comments, but then so do I, I suppose.  At least we know enough to apologize for our thoughtless comments.  And at least I know enough to start on the inside and work my way out.

Exercise my brain muscle first...everything else will fall into place.

In addition to my matronly mom issues, I've been stewing on deadbeat mom issues all day long.  Stewing, for me, requires researching.  Did you even know this was an issue?  It is.  It totally, sadly is.  Some studies say that the percentage of deadbeat moms is actually higher than that of deadbeat dads.  I am a mom (obviously) and right now it is completely beyond my realm of comprehension, but I am trying to educate myself so that I can speak thoughtfully on a subject that blows my mind.  I wish so many things of our society, but the one I wish the most is that men and women were treated equally - and that includes areas of custodial and non-custodial parenting rights and responsibilities.  The research part of my brain encourages me to look at all of the facts, weigh all of the statistics and theories.  The mom/wife part of me wants to rage, and rage loudly, at the unfairness of it all.

Part of being healthy this year is going to be letting go of things that I have no control over.  It may also be a healthy throat punch to stupid people.  Maybe.  Possibly.

2014 - healthy mind, healthy body, one day at a time.



Oh, and I'm thinking of getting a dog, but that might be too big of  a commitment for 2014; I think my plate might be full.  Maybe 2015 will be the year of the dog...

Virtual Motivation (guest post)

I'm guest-posting this week over at 100 Miles in 3 Months about virtual motivation...and visual motivation.  Check it out here!

I'm guest-posting this week over at 100 Miles in 3 Months about virtual motivation...and visual motivation.  Check it out here!

On my mind today...the weight of things.

• I feel like my days have been loaded with thoughts of food and weight and body-analysis.
• What can I eat? What shouldn't I eat?  What do I want to eat?
• Is it warm enough to go outside?
• Should I do yoga on the Wii? Obviously, but I don't really want to.
• My yoga pants are obviously not for yoga.
• Is this how I want to spend the rest of my life? Constantly thinking about food?
• Is the alternative somehow better? Not thinking about food, but then, not really being comfortable in my own skin?
• Who has time for this over-analyzing?  Obviously, I do.
• One step forward, 9 steps back.
• Get out and hike a bit with 30 extra pounds of wiggling, giggling Finn strapped to my back.
• Slip and fall (but don't get hurt).  Enjoy the view.  And then stuck in the house because sub-zero temperatures and wind make going outside a suicide mission.
• When do I get to feel comfortable?  10 pounds?  25?  When I hit my 40 lb goal?
• And when I get there, then what?  It's probably best not to worry about that right now.
• Let's just focus on getting there.
• Focus on getting off of this plateau that I'm perched on and can't seem to jump down from.
• One step forward, 9 steps back.
• Should I dare to cut back on the carbs again?  
• I hate cutting things out - denying myself.  I lack will-power. 
• Maybe I'll focus on telling myself I don't want something rather than I can't have it. 
• Mind games.  Weight loss is a mind game if ever I saw one.
• Baby steps to the elevator.  
• Maybe those 9 steps back will be baby steps and the one step forward can be a giant step.
• Thank you for listening, I'm going back to my menu planning now.

• I feel like my days have been loaded with thoughts of food and weight and body-analysis.
• What can I eat? What shouldn't I eat?  What do I want to eat?
• Is it warm enough to go outside?
• Should I do yoga on the Wii? Obviously, but I don't really want to.
• My yoga pants are obviously not for yoga.
• Is this how I want to spend the rest of my life? Constantly thinking about food?
• Is the alternative somehow better? Not thinking about food, but then, not really being comfortable in my own skin?
• Who has time for this over-analyzing?  Obviously, I do.
• One step forward, 9 steps back.
• Get out and hike a bit with 30 extra pounds of wiggling, giggling Finn strapped to my back.
• Slip and fall (but don't get hurt).  Enjoy the view.  And then stuck in the house because sub-zero temperatures and wind make going outside a suicide mission.
• When do I get to feel comfortable?  10 pounds?  25?  When I hit my 40 lb goal?
• And when I get there, then what?  It's probably best not to worry about that right now.
• Let's just focus on getting there.
• Focus on getting off of this plateau that I'm perched on and can't seem to jump down from.
• One step forward, 9 steps back.
• Should I dare to cut back on the carbs again?  
• I hate cutting things out - denying myself.  I lack will-power. 
• Maybe I'll focus on telling myself I don't want something rather than I can't have it. 
• Mind games.  Weight loss is a mind game if ever I saw one.
• Baby steps to the elevator.  
• Maybe those 9 steps back will be baby steps and the one step forward can be a giant step.
• Thank you for listening, I'm going back to my menu planning now.

Thankfuls

We are hosting Thanksgiving at our house this year.  A small gathering of Minnesota family on Friday since Uriah has to feed the masses on Thursday.  The small humans and I have big plans to watch movies and eat pizza on Thursday and I am actually looking forward to the quietness of Thursday as we gear up for Friday.  We tend to be a little over-zealous when it comes to entertaining, so Uriah is making a Turducken, which is a duck inside of a chicken inside of a turkey, layered with venison stuffing and roasted.  Each bird needs to be boned and the idea is that when you slice it, you'll have a layer of  of each bird.  I am not sure how one goes about boning a chicken, duck, and turkey; add to that the fact that Uriah threw out his back yesterday and is hobbling around like I did two summers ago, it's going to be an interesting weekend.  But we do nothing if we don't do it big.  If I have my wits about me, and my camera, I will blog about it next week - the turducken, not the hobbling; although I will probably have stories about that, too!

Anyway...things I am thankful for this year: another year with Uriah (and Finn and Abby, too), family - and soon a new member niece or nephew to make family gatherings a little bigger, a new beginning, having an over-all healthy family, Minnesota and Lake Superior and hikes and walks and runs, positive steps toward potty training and a little boy who's not such a baby anymore, the men and women who have served our country and those who continue to do so, nap time, books and hot coffee and cozy slippers, being home.

I had the lofty attainable goal of loosing 8 pounds by Thanksgiving and I didn't quite make it (I blame the martinis and daylight savings time and my own unambitious ways), but I did lose a little bit of weight, so I will mark that as a success. I've been almost a year on WW, and in that time I've managed to maintain a 25 pound weight loss (give or take a couple of pounds in either direction)  I am very thankful for that.  I've recently found that counting calories has its place, too.  It's a balance and I'm trying to remember that some days are easier that others and sometimes I just need to make it easier for myself.

Happy Thanksgiving Weekend!  May you eat until you are content, enjoy family and friends, and save room for pie (or, with the demise of Hostess, perhaps a non-traditional Twinkie Cake?!  I might just have to add it to my already gigantic weekend menu...).

We are hosting Thanksgiving at our house this year.  A small gathering of Minnesota family on Friday since Uriah has to feed the masses on Thursday.  The small humans and I have big plans to watch movies and eat pizza on Thursday and I am actually looking forward to the quietness of Thursday as we gear up for Friday.  We tend to be a little over-zealous when it comes to entertaining, so Uriah is making a Turducken, which is a duck inside of a chicken inside of a turkey, layered with venison stuffing and roasted.  Each bird needs to be boned and the idea is that when you slice it, you'll have a layer of  of each bird.  I am not sure how one goes about boning a chicken, duck, and turkey; add to that the fact that Uriah threw out his back yesterday and is hobbling around like I did two summers ago, it's going to be an interesting weekend.  But we do nothing if we don't do it big.  If I have my wits about me, and my camera, I will blog about it next week - the turducken, not the hobbling; although I will probably have stories about that, too!

Anyway...things I am thankful for this year: another year with Uriah (and Finn and Abby, too), family - and soon a new member niece or nephew to make family gatherings a little bigger, a new beginning, having an over-all healthy family, Minnesota and Lake Superior and hikes and walks and runs, positive steps toward potty training and a little boy who's not such a baby anymore, the men and women who have served our country and those who continue to do so, nap time, books and hot coffee and cozy slippers, being home.

I had the lofty attainable goal of loosing 8 pounds by Thanksgiving and I didn't quite make it (I blame the martinis and daylight savings time and my own unambitious ways), but I did lose a little bit of weight, so I will mark that as a success. I've been almost a year on WW, and in that time I've managed to maintain a 25 pound weight loss (give or take a couple of pounds in either direction)  I am very thankful for that.  I've recently found that counting calories has its place, too.  It's a balance and I'm trying to remember that some days are easier that others and sometimes I just need to make it easier for myself.

Happy Thanksgiving Weekend!  May you eat until you are content, enjoy family and friends, and save room for pie (or, with the demise of Hostess, perhaps a non-traditional Twinkie Cake?!  I might just have to add it to my already gigantic weekend menu...).

Soup-er! (Yes, I did go there.)

Soups to try:

• Lighter Italian Wedding Soup
• Asian Chicken & Watercress Soup 
• Veggie Split Pea Soup 
• Sweet Potato and Chipolte Soup
• Mushroom & Barley Soup
• Onion Soup with Cheese Toasts
• Chicken Posole
• Butternut Bisque
• Broccoli Rabe & White Bean Soup

I've started making a big pot of soup on either Sunday or Monday to get me through the week for lunch.  It’s quick, easy to heat up and Finn eats it, too, so it’s a good extra serving of vegetables for him.

The key to really good soup, I think, is homemade stock.  I obviously don’t sit around and make stock all day, because, really, who has that kind of time?  Actually, who am I kidding, some days I do have that kind of time because I stay at home.  But it is hands down the easiest, best thing in the world, albeit a little bit time-consuming.  Everyone makes stock different; I make mine the way my mom taught me – vegetables, slow simmering, and a whole chicken carcass.  I usually make chicken stock when we've had a whole, roasted chicken for dinner – and it can even be one of those rotisserie chickens from the grocery store.  I clean most of the remaining meat off, which I set aside to use for chicken salad sandwiches or, if I’m making chicken soup, I’ll add that later, after the broth is done.  Then I put the bones in a big ole soup pot, add chopped celery, onion, carrots and a couple of cloves of garlic and fill the stock pot with water.  Add some herbs – I use oregano, thyme, basil and a bay leaf and bring it all to a boil.  Then I turn the heat back, put a cover on it and let it simmer on low until the broth has reduced by about half.

Usually at this point I’ll turn the stock off and let it cool down to room temperature then stick it in the refrigerator over night.  The point is to let the fat from the chicken congeal on the top so that the next morning I can skim it off…you want a little bit of that fat as you’re simmering the broth because fat adds flavor, but you don’t need all of it and it can make for kind of a greasy broth if there is too much.  And we all know that at this point, the less fat, the better (my bum will thank me come beach season!).  Then I put that big pot back on the stove and bring it up to a low simmer for maybe about 20 minutes to a half an hour and then strain all of the chicken bones and vegetables out, leaving a really nice, intense broth.  And then I freeze it in 2 cup portions for use later.

The same theory applies if you get a soup bone from the grocery store for beef broth or a ham bone for ham broth.  I've never made fish stock, so I’m not entirely sure how that process would work (I’m sure Uriah can give me a tutorial on that some day when I'm less busy doing stay-at-home mom things.).  You can also use whatever veggies you happen to have in the house.  I've added red onion, leek, and green or red peppers to my broth before because they were in the fridge and needed to be used.  Don’t worry about saving the vegetables from your broth to use later in your soup; you've already leached all of their good flavor out and into the broth – which is also why you want to remove most of the chicken from the bones and add it in later.  Even if you’re making  vegetable soup or chicken noodle soup, you want to discard the simmered veggies and use fresh in your soup.

Sometimes, however, I don’t have the patience for all of that simmering and straining and cooling and skimming, so I just make my broth, strain out the veggies and bones and then use the broth to make my soup the same day.  It’s just as good and if I have leftover broth, I freeze it.

Today was technically my first day of Soup for Lunch, although last week for my lunches I ate the Ham & Pot Liquor Soup I made when my parents visited.  The ham soup is a little bit spicy, so Finn wasn't sold on it; today we had a fall vegetable soup that I made yesterday with some chicken broth I found in the freezer and some veggies I had in the refrigerator.  I deliberately left out any sort of barley or noodle filler in my soup this week – I wanted just a broth with vegetables soup to kick my healthy eating into gear.  I paired my big bowl of soup with some low-fat cottage cheese and a banana, over-all a relatively healthy, filling lunch.  I think tomorrow I’ll have a salad with it and maybe on Thursday I’ll add an open-faced ham sandwich with low-fat cheese and spicy mustard.  I realize that for some people, eating the same thing for lunch 5 days in a row can get a little bit boring (and I’m one of them) so the sides I put with my soup need to be different each day and a healthy supplement.

So that’s soup week one… I've added the Ham & Pot Liquor soup recipe below – it’s really good if you don’t mind a little heat; you can always cut back on the hot sauce for a less spicy soup.  The vegetable soup recipe is really easy and made my whole house smell amazing yesterday.  I’m planning to work my way through the list of soups between now and Thanksgiving and then add some more for the weeks after Thanksgiving.

Today I felt much better about my choices than I have in a while…and more in control of what I’m doing.  I logged everything I've eaten and pre-pointed out my dinner, so I know that I can afford a small snack this evening if I need it and if it’s before 8 pm.  I didn't work out hard, but I did walk a bunch this morning taking pictures of Sarah and Michael, so I feel pretty good about getting some movement into my day today.

One day at a time...

• 2 pounds kale*
• 1 (2 lb) ham steak
• 2 tablespoons hot sauce
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 medium onions, chopped
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• 6 red potatoes, diced
• 3 (14-oz) cans chicken broth
• 2 (16-oz) cans black eyed peas**
• 2 cups water, use reserved kale cooking water from second boil***
• ½ cup vermouth
• 1 tablespoon white vinegar
• 1 teaspoon salt

Remove and discard stems and discolored spots from  kale; rinse with cold water.  Drain and tear into 1-inch pieces.  Cover kale with cold water and bring to a boil in a large Dutch oven.  Remove from heat; drain.  Cover again with water and bring to a boil.  Drain, reserving liquid.

Toss ham with hot sauce.  Cook in oil in Dutch oven over medium-high heat until browned.  Add onion and garlic and saute until tender.  Stir in kale, potatoes, and remaining ingredients; bring to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally  45 minutes.

*Original recipe called for collard greens - couldn't find them, so I substituted kale.  I've never had kale before, but it was really, really good.
**I used dried black-eyed peas because Uriah couldn't find them in the canned aisle (probably looking with his man eyes.).  Soaked the peas overnight and then added 2 cups to the broth to simmer and cook through.
***The original recipe doesn't say to use the cooking water from the collards/kale, but I think it gives a little bit of extra flavor to the soup; if you don't have 2 cups, add water to make the full amount.  You could just use 2 cups of water if you forget to reserve your cooking water, though!  Sometimes I like to get a little over-zealous...

8 servings
Adapted from Southern Living Christmas Cookbook, 2005

Fall Vegetable Soup

• 1 leek, white and most of the green part sliced
• 3 tablespoons butter
• ½ acorn squash, seeded, peeled and cubed
• 1 carrot, chopped
• 3 parsnips, chopped
• 1 cup fresh broccoli heads and stem pieces, chopped
• 2 cups chicken broth
• 3 cups water
• 1 teaspoon each, oregano and thyme
• 1 bay leaf
• salt and pepper to taste

Melt butter in soup pot over medium heat, add leeks and saute until tender.  Add squash, carrot, parsnips and broccoli; stir to combine with leeks and saute 3 minutes.  Add broth, water and herbs.  Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer until vegetables are tender.  Salt and pepper to taste.

4 servings

Soups to try:

• Lighter Italian Wedding Soup
• Asian Chicken & Watercress Soup 
• Veggie Split Pea Soup 
• Sweet Potato and Chipolte Soup
• Mushroom & Barley Soup
• Onion Soup with Cheese Toasts
• Chicken Posole
• Butternut Bisque
• Broccoli Rabe & White Bean Soup

I've started making a big pot of soup on either Sunday or Monday to get me through the week for lunch.  It’s quick, easy to heat up and Finn eats it, too, so it’s a good extra serving of vegetables for him.

The key to really good soup, I think, is homemade stock.  I obviously don’t sit around and make stock all day, because, really, who has that kind of time?  Actually, who am I kidding, some days I do have that kind of time because I stay at home.  But it is hands down the easiest, best thing in the world, albeit a little bit time-consuming.  Everyone makes stock different; I make mine the way my mom taught me – vegetables, slow simmering, and a whole chicken carcass.  I usually make chicken stock when we've had a whole, roasted chicken for dinner – and it can even be one of those rotisserie chickens from the grocery store.  I clean most of the remaining meat off, which I set aside to use for chicken salad sandwiches or, if I’m making chicken soup, I’ll add that later, after the broth is done.  Then I put the bones in a big ole soup pot, add chopped celery, onion, carrots and a couple of cloves of garlic and fill the stock pot with water.  Add some herbs – I use oregano, thyme, basil and a bay leaf and bring it all to a boil.  Then I turn the heat back, put a cover on it and let it simmer on low until the broth has reduced by about half.

Usually at this point I’ll turn the stock off and let it cool down to room temperature then stick it in the refrigerator over night.  The point is to let the fat from the chicken congeal on the top so that the next morning I can skim it off…you want a little bit of that fat as you’re simmering the broth because fat adds flavor, but you don’t need all of it and it can make for kind of a greasy broth if there is too much.  And we all know that at this point, the less fat, the better (my bum will thank me come beach season!).  Then I put that big pot back on the stove and bring it up to a low simmer for maybe about 20 minutes to a half an hour and then strain all of the chicken bones and vegetables out, leaving a really nice, intense broth.  And then I freeze it in 2 cup portions for use later.

The same theory applies if you get a soup bone from the grocery store for beef broth or a ham bone for ham broth.  I've never made fish stock, so I’m not entirely sure how that process would work (I’m sure Uriah can give me a tutorial on that some day when I'm less busy doing stay-at-home mom things.).  You can also use whatever veggies you happen to have in the house.  I've added red onion, leek, and green or red peppers to my broth before because they were in the fridge and needed to be used.  Don’t worry about saving the vegetables from your broth to use later in your soup; you've already leached all of their good flavor out and into the broth – which is also why you want to remove most of the chicken from the bones and add it in later.  Even if you’re making  vegetable soup or chicken noodle soup, you want to discard the simmered veggies and use fresh in your soup.

Sometimes, however, I don’t have the patience for all of that simmering and straining and cooling and skimming, so I just make my broth, strain out the veggies and bones and then use the broth to make my soup the same day.  It’s just as good and if I have leftover broth, I freeze it.

Today was technically my first day of Soup for Lunch, although last week for my lunches I ate the Ham & Pot Liquor Soup I made when my parents visited.  The ham soup is a little bit spicy, so Finn wasn't sold on it; today we had a fall vegetable soup that I made yesterday with some chicken broth I found in the freezer and some veggies I had in the refrigerator.  I deliberately left out any sort of barley or noodle filler in my soup this week – I wanted just a broth with vegetables soup to kick my healthy eating into gear.  I paired my big bowl of soup with some low-fat cottage cheese and a banana, over-all a relatively healthy, filling lunch.  I think tomorrow I’ll have a salad with it and maybe on Thursday I’ll add an open-faced ham sandwich with low-fat cheese and spicy mustard.  I realize that for some people, eating the same thing for lunch 5 days in a row can get a little bit boring (and I’m one of them) so the sides I put with my soup need to be different each day and a healthy supplement.

So that’s soup week one… I've added the Ham & Pot Liquor soup recipe below – it’s really good if you don’t mind a little heat; you can always cut back on the hot sauce for a less spicy soup.  The vegetable soup recipe is really easy and made my whole house smell amazing yesterday.  I’m planning to work my way through the list of soups between now and Thanksgiving and then add some more for the weeks after Thanksgiving.

Today I felt much better about my choices than I have in a while…and more in control of what I’m doing.  I logged everything I've eaten and pre-pointed out my dinner, so I know that I can afford a small snack this evening if I need it and if it’s before 8 pm.  I didn't work out hard, but I did walk a bunch this morning taking pictures of Sarah and Michael, so I feel pretty good about getting some movement into my day today.

One day at a time...

• 2 pounds kale*
• 1 (2 lb) ham steak
• 2 tablespoons hot sauce
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 medium onions, chopped
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• 6 red potatoes, diced
• 3 (14-oz) cans chicken broth
• 2 (16-oz) cans black eyed peas**
• 2 cups water, use reserved kale cooking water from second boil***
• ½ cup vermouth
• 1 tablespoon white vinegar
• 1 teaspoon salt

Remove and discard stems and discolored spots from  kale; rinse with cold water.  Drain and tear into 1-inch pieces.  Cover kale with cold water and bring to a boil in a large Dutch oven.  Remove from heat; drain.  Cover again with water and bring to a boil.  Drain, reserving liquid.

Toss ham with hot sauce.  Cook in oil in Dutch oven over medium-high heat until browned.  Add onion and garlic and saute until tender.  Stir in kale, potatoes, and remaining ingredients; bring to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally  45 minutes.

*Original recipe called for collard greens - couldn't find them, so I substituted kale.  I've never had kale before, but it was really, really good.
**I used dried black-eyed peas because Uriah couldn't find them in the canned aisle (probably looking with his man eyes.).  Soaked the peas overnight and then added 2 cups to the broth to simmer and cook through.
***The original recipe doesn't say to use the cooking water from the collards/kale, but I think it gives a little bit of extra flavor to the soup; if you don't have 2 cups, add water to make the full amount.  You could just use 2 cups of water if you forget to reserve your cooking water, though!  Sometimes I like to get a little over-zealous...

8 servings
Adapted from Southern Living Christmas Cookbook, 2005

Fall Vegetable Soup

• 1 leek, white and most of the green part sliced
• 3 tablespoons butter
• ½ acorn squash, seeded, peeled and cubed
• 1 carrot, chopped
• 3 parsnips, chopped
• 1 cup fresh broccoli heads and stem pieces, chopped
• 2 cups chicken broth
• 3 cups water
• 1 teaspoon each, oregano and thyme
• 1 bay leaf
• salt and pepper to taste

Melt butter in soup pot over medium heat, add leeks and saute until tender.  Add squash, carrot, parsnips and broccoli; stir to combine with leeks and saute 3 minutes.  Add broth, water and herbs.  Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer until vegetables are tender.  Salt and pepper to taste.

4 servings

And so today, I start again.

Who wants to talk about weight again?!

You?  You?  Not you?

Okay, look at the beautiful fall pictures from northern Minnesota and my sweet little hiking partner, who hiked nearly all of Gooseberry Falls last week (just over a mile through the woods - and I only had to carry him a couple of times!) and then move on to something else because after these pretty fall pictures is some more talk about weight.  

I've always been really good at working toward something...a project deadline or a goal I've set for myself (the attainable ones, not the hundreds of out-of-reach goals that I set idealistically and often.).  For the longest time I was working towards the idea that, maybe, if I got my weight to a manageable point, we'd have another baby.  I wanted to be healthy the next time around.  I wanted to enjoy and savor another pregnancy and be not so ridiculously tired while I figured out another tiny human.  I had a plan as to timing and how I would get back to my pre-pregnancy weight (the weight I needed to be before I could have another baby) and I was certain that to do all of that that - to reach that ultimate 2nd baby goal - all I had to loose weight.

So I walked.  And I started Weight Watchers.  I biked and I attempted to run.  I hiked.  I pushed Finn in the stroller, pulled him in the wagon and dragged him behind the bike.  I sweated and cursed and pushed a little bit harder.  Somewhere along the way, however, the drive to reach that magic weight goal (which I set for myself as December of this year) waned.  It became more and more apparent that another small human to add to my menagerie was probably not in my future.  Without that ultimate goal, I stopped working hard.  I will not meet my goal weight by December and that makes me almost as sad as not having another baby because the goal was attainable - I should have been able to reach it.  I think about my weight every day - I remind myself that today I need to get out my pen and mark my points; today I most certainly do not need to eat a doughnut with my coffee; today I need to walk far and fast.  But sadness does funny things to ambition.

I learned something from almost a year at Weight Watchers, and so I haven't gained a lot of weight back, only about 5 pounds since the beginning of the summer.  But they're 5 sad pounds because I don't want them.  It's 5 steps back instead of 5 steps forward.  The weather is turning serious shades of grey and gloomy, and the air is brisk almost all day now.  In an effort to jump-start my efforts (and to seriously stop my hibernation mode), I had Uriah set up the Wii for me (which we hadn't done since we moved.).  I started a list of healthy things to eat and I've been to 3 weigh-ins in the past month.

This morning I pep-talked myself in the shower (it's my go-to pep-talk place because the only place that I'm relatively alone - except for Finn playing with his trucks on the floor.).  At the beginning of the year (when I was optimistic and loosing weight weekly and on track to meet my December deadline) my New Year's Resolution was to be kind to myself.  To that I am adding: one day at a time.  That's all I'm requiring of myself.  One day at a time.  Life sucks sometimes and we have to find a new path to hike down.  Suffice it to say that I'm finding a new path.

My first goal is 8 pounds by Thanksgiving.  That's a measly 1 pound a week, but I'm going to have to work hard to do it.  Breakfast (more than just coffee) every day and soups for lunch.  No snacking and nothing after 8 pm.  And I'm once again joining the 100 miles in 3 months challenge to help keep me on track.

But mostly: just one day at a time.

Tomorrow: soups for lunch - my list and the first two recipes.  And probably more talk about weight.  And maybe a cute picture of Finn thrown in to keep things less gloomy.

Who wants to talk about weight again?!

You?  You?  Not you?

Okay, look at the beautiful fall pictures from northern Minnesota and my sweet little hiking partner, who hiked nearly all of Gooseberry Falls last week (just over a mile through the woods - and I only had to carry him a couple of times!) and then move on to something else because after these pretty fall pictures is some more talk about weight.  

I've always been really good at working toward something...a project deadline or a goal I've set for myself (the attainable ones, not the hundreds of out-of-reach goals that I set idealistically and often.).  For the longest time I was working towards the idea that, maybe, if I got my weight to a manageable point, we'd have another baby.  I wanted to be healthy the next time around.  I wanted to enjoy and savor another pregnancy and be not so ridiculously tired while I figured out another tiny human.  I had a plan as to timing and how I would get back to my pre-pregnancy weight (the weight I needed to be before I could have another baby) and I was certain that to do all of that that - to reach that ultimate 2nd baby goal - all I had to loose weight.

So I walked.  And I started Weight Watchers.  I biked and I attempted to run.  I hiked.  I pushed Finn in the stroller, pulled him in the wagon and dragged him behind the bike.  I sweated and cursed and pushed a little bit harder.  Somewhere along the way, however, the drive to reach that magic weight goal (which I set for myself as December of this year) waned.  It became more and more apparent that another small human to add to my menagerie was probably not in my future.  Without that ultimate goal, I stopped working hard.  I will not meet my goal weight by December and that makes me almost as sad as not having another baby because the goal was attainable - I should have been able to reach it.  I think about my weight every day - I remind myself that today I need to get out my pen and mark my points; today I most certainly do not need to eat a doughnut with my coffee; today I need to walk far and fast.  But sadness does funny things to ambition.

I learned something from almost a year at Weight Watchers, and so I haven't gained a lot of weight back, only about 5 pounds since the beginning of the summer.  But they're 5 sad pounds because I don't want them.  It's 5 steps back instead of 5 steps forward.  The weather is turning serious shades of grey and gloomy, and the air is brisk almost all day now.  In an effort to jump-start my efforts (and to seriously stop my hibernation mode), I had Uriah set up the Wii for me (which we hadn't done since we moved.).  I started a list of healthy things to eat and I've been to 3 weigh-ins in the past month.

This morning I pep-talked myself in the shower (it's my go-to pep-talk place because the only place that I'm relatively alone - except for Finn playing with his trucks on the floor.).  At the beginning of the year (when I was optimistic and loosing weight weekly and on track to meet my December deadline) my New Year's Resolution was to be kind to myself.  To that I am adding: one day at a time.  That's all I'm requiring of myself.  One day at a time.  Life sucks sometimes and we have to find a new path to hike down.  Suffice it to say that I'm finding a new path.

My first goal is 8 pounds by Thanksgiving.  That's a measly 1 pound a week, but I'm going to have to work hard to do it.  Breakfast (more than just coffee) every day and soups for lunch.  No snacking and nothing after 8 pm.  And I'm once again joining the 100 miles in 3 months challenge to help keep me on track.

But mostly: just one day at a time.

Tomorrow: soups for lunch - my list and the first two recipes.  And probably more talk about weight.  And maybe a cute picture of Finn thrown in to keep things less gloomy.

On weight and measuring.

Let's take some time to talk about weight, shall we?  We haven't done that for awhile and I haven't had the opportunity to level with you regarding the ongoing challenge I have to lose roughly the weight equivalent of a medium-sized human, so now's as good a time as any.  Oh, and I'll pepper this weight talk with pictures of snacks, how does that sound?

When our summer of planned bucket list check-offs and afternoons at the beach turned into pack a bunch of boxes and move 400 miles north, it stands to reason that I sloughed weight-loss to the bottom of my list of things to focus on.  I put my energy into cleaning and organizing and throwing away tons of crap.  Sure, I put in a day or two on the trails each week, but nothing significant (I suspect it was more for sentimental reasons because I really, really loved the trail system in our town in Iowa.  It is the standard by which all walking/biking trails are measured from here on out.).  I stopped tracking what I was eating.  I still went to my Fatties Anonymous** meetings I even raised my hand and participated, but I wasn't hard-core counting everything that went into my mouth.  And I certainly wasn't hard-core walking every day, either.

So imagine my surprise when I measured myself in July and found I'd lost a total of 12 inches total in 3 months - one of those months being a huge slough off month that included virtually no exercise and sporadic tracking.  

Let me put it to you this way: I enjoyed a number of cocktails on the patio (for medicinal reasons - stress relief and the like - but cocktails are heavy on the empty calories.), I enjoyed a lot of ice cream (new love - Neapolitan.  In a cone, of course.), and I had some bedtime snacks thrown in there for good measure.  But...and here's the key...I didn't do it every single night.  Sometimes my bedtime snack was an apple and cheese.  Sometimes it was a little popcorn.  And yes, sometimes it was an ice cream cone; we all deserve a little sweet treat sometimes.  And even though my walking was less than consistent, I did still walk and it was still an average for 4.5 miles every time.

Last time we moved I threw out my back.  Probably because I was really fat.  I'm sure there were other contributing factors, but weight had a lot to do with it.  When we loaded and then unloaded a 24 foot moving truck in a matter of about 72 hours a couple of weeks ago, I was able to do it without injuring myself.  Yes, I was sweaty and tired and bruised, but it got done.  And it got done quickly because I didn't have to stop and take a hundred breaks because I couldn't breathe or my legs were so tired they were going to give out on me, or I was so tired I thought I was going to give out on myself.

It's still a little strange for me to admit out loud that I had a weight problem.  Not even had - have, because I still do.  It's something I will struggle with for a long time.  It's a balancing act every single day.  But I'm more comfortable with where I'm at after measuring myself and realizing that even without being totally in the tracking/exercising zone, I still managed to lose inches (and even a few pounds) because now I'm making healthier eating choices.  It's no longer a question of: Should I eat the pie or not eat the pie?  Now I eat a little piece of the pie and enjoy it for what it is - a really delicious, sweet treat - instead of eating the whole pie and feeling guilty later.

So that brings me to a non-guilt inducing snack: Grilled Corn and Avocado Salsa.  It seems that since we've moved away from Iowa - the land of corn - all I can think about is corn!  You don't have to grill the corn, you could boil fresh corn or even steam some frozen corn.  I like to grill anything I can - and when I say I, we all know that I mean I like it when Uriah grills for me!  And you don't have to eat this with chips.  I also ate it with a spoon, salad style, too.

And, also - do you take measurements?  Or are you a scale person?  Or do you keep tabs on your weight by how your pants fit? Just curious, if you'd like to share, I'd like to know!

• 4 ears sweet corn, grilled and the kernels cut off
• 2 avocados, diced
• 1/2 red onion, diced
• 1/2 jalapeno, seeded and diced
• Juice of a lime
• Chopped cilantro
• 1 tablespoon white vinegar
• 1 teaspoon sugar

Combine everything in a bowl.  Refrigerate before serving.  Or not, I mixed and ate and that's good, too!

*Adapted and adopted from The Pioneer Woman.

**Fatties Anonymous is not a real meeting.  I imagine it would make an awesome meeting, though, and I'd probably be not only a member, but it's founding president.  It would also have 12 steps, like it's boozy equivalent, the first of which would Put Down the Fork.  

Let's take some time to talk about weight, shall we?  We haven't done that for awhile and I haven't had the opportunity to level with you regarding the ongoing challenge I have to lose roughly the weight equivalent of a medium-sized human, so now's as good a time as any.  Oh, and I'll pepper this weight talk with pictures of snacks, how does that sound?

When our summer of planned bucket list check-offs and afternoons at the beach turned into pack a bunch of boxes and move 400 miles north, it stands to reason that I sloughed weight-loss to the bottom of my list of things to focus on.  I put my energy into cleaning and organizing and throwing away tons of crap.  Sure, I put in a day or two on the trails each week, but nothing significant (I suspect it was more for sentimental reasons because I really, really loved the trail system in our town in Iowa.  It is the standard by which all walking/biking trails are measured from here on out.).  I stopped tracking what I was eating.  I still went to my Fatties Anonymous** meetings I even raised my hand and participated, but I wasn't hard-core counting everything that went into my mouth.  And I certainly wasn't hard-core walking every day, either.

So imagine my surprise when I measured myself in July and found I'd lost a total of 12 inches total in 3 months - one of those months being a huge slough off month that included virtually no exercise and sporadic tracking.  

Let me put it to you this way: I enjoyed a number of cocktails on the patio (for medicinal reasons - stress relief and the like - but cocktails are heavy on the empty calories.), I enjoyed a lot of ice cream (new love - Neapolitan.  In a cone, of course.), and I had some bedtime snacks thrown in there for good measure.  But...and here's the key...I didn't do it every single night.  Sometimes my bedtime snack was an apple and cheese.  Sometimes it was a little popcorn.  And yes, sometimes it was an ice cream cone; we all deserve a little sweet treat sometimes.  And even though my walking was less than consistent, I did still walk and it was still an average for 4.5 miles every time.

Last time we moved I threw out my back.  Probably because I was really fat.  I'm sure there were other contributing factors, but weight had a lot to do with it.  When we loaded and then unloaded a 24 foot moving truck in a matter of about 72 hours a couple of weeks ago, I was able to do it without injuring myself.  Yes, I was sweaty and tired and bruised, but it got done.  And it got done quickly because I didn't have to stop and take a hundred breaks because I couldn't breathe or my legs were so tired they were going to give out on me, or I was so tired I thought I was going to give out on myself.

It's still a little strange for me to admit out loud that I had a weight problem.  Not even had - have, because I still do.  It's something I will struggle with for a long time.  It's a balancing act every single day.  But I'm more comfortable with where I'm at after measuring myself and realizing that even without being totally in the tracking/exercising zone, I still managed to lose inches (and even a few pounds) because now I'm making healthier eating choices.  It's no longer a question of: Should I eat the pie or not eat the pie?  Now I eat a little piece of the pie and enjoy it for what it is - a really delicious, sweet treat - instead of eating the whole pie and feeling guilty later.

So that brings me to a non-guilt inducing snack: Grilled Corn and Avocado Salsa.  It seems that since we've moved away from Iowa - the land of corn - all I can think about is corn!  You don't have to grill the corn, you could boil fresh corn or even steam some frozen corn.  I like to grill anything I can - and when I say I, we all know that I mean I like it when Uriah grills for me!  And you don't have to eat this with chips.  I also ate it with a spoon, salad style, too.

And, also - do you take measurements?  Or are you a scale person?  Or do you keep tabs on your weight by how your pants fit? Just curious, if you'd like to share, I'd like to know!

• 4 ears sweet corn, grilled and the kernels cut off
• 2 avocados, diced
• 1/2 red onion, diced
• 1/2 jalapeno, seeded and diced
• Juice of a lime
• Chopped cilantro
• 1 tablespoon white vinegar
• 1 teaspoon sugar

Combine everything in a bowl.  Refrigerate before serving.  Or not, I mixed and ate and that's good, too!

*Adapted and adopted from The Pioneer Woman.

**Fatties Anonymous is not a real meeting.  I imagine it would make an awesome meeting, though, and I'd probably be not only a member, but it's founding president.  It would also have 12 steps, like it's boozy equivalent, the first of which would Put Down the Fork.  

Here I go again.

Finn and I dusted off the race car stroller again this morning, after nearly a month of ignoring it.  We went early - or what I thought was going to be early enough to beat the heat.  It wasn't, the thermometer on the bank said 77 degrees already at 8:20,  so we'll be out earlier tomorrow morning.  I ran, but only just a little bit.  Pieces that were on the cusp of not jiggling a month ago had a little extra bounce this morning.  I'm confident that by the end of August, we'll be back to our old, less jiggled daily walk/run routine.  Finn's attention span is a lot shorter these days, and about half-way through the walk, he was ready to be "all done."  I had to bribe him with promises of seeing the sheep and cows on the farm that we walk past.  It worked for a little bit, but I'm getting the feeling that I'll have to up the running ante in order to make this walk a little shorter time-wise, while still getting our 4-5 miles in.  I've joined another 100 miles in 3 months Challenge, and I'm determined to get to that up to the 200 mile mark by the end of September.  Let's just say, I have some catching up to do, but I will not be deterred.

Lots to do today...lots to do for the next few weeks, actually, but the summer is winding down and soon we will have the buzz of back-to-school (Abby has already made her list.  She made it weeks ago, actually.) and yellow and orange leaves and routine.  I love routine.

In the meantime, let's revel in summer for just a little bit longer.  Here are some black and whites from our vacation to the North Shore a few weeks ago:

I'm getting back into my blogging groove and my exercising groove and my weight loss groove; I feel like I've been on summer hiatus this past month, and I have lots to share.  Stop by tomorrow and I will have some big news for you.

Can you barely contain your excitement?  I know that I can't!

And, one more thing: If you'd like to see some more black and whites from this week's photo challenge, head over to I Should Be Folding Laundry and take a peek.  Next week the challenge is Drinks, and I'm pretty sure I'll be all over that one!  

Finn and I dusted off the race car stroller again this morning, after nearly a month of ignoring it.  We went early - or what I thought was going to be early enough to beat the heat.  It wasn't, the thermometer on the bank said 77 degrees already at 8:20,  so we'll be out earlier tomorrow morning.  I ran, but only just a little bit.  Pieces that were on the cusp of not jiggling a month ago had a little extra bounce this morning.  I'm confident that by the end of August, we'll be back to our old, less jiggled daily walk/run routine.  Finn's attention span is a lot shorter these days, and about half-way through the walk, he was ready to be "all done."  I had to bribe him with promises of seeing the sheep and cows on the farm that we walk past.  It worked for a little bit, but I'm getting the feeling that I'll have to up the running ante in order to make this walk a little shorter time-wise, while still getting our 4-5 miles in.  I've joined another 100 miles in 3 months Challenge, and I'm determined to get to that up to the 200 mile mark by the end of September.  Let's just say, I have some catching up to do, but I will not be deterred.

Lots to do today...lots to do for the next few weeks, actually, but the summer is winding down and soon we will have the buzz of back-to-school (Abby has already made her list.  She made it weeks ago, actually.) and yellow and orange leaves and routine.  I love routine.

In the meantime, let's revel in summer for just a little bit longer.  Here are some black and whites from our vacation to the North Shore a few weeks ago:

I'm getting back into my blogging groove and my exercising groove and my weight loss groove; I feel like I've been on summer hiatus this past month, and I have lots to share.  Stop by tomorrow and I will have some big news for you.

Can you barely contain your excitement?  I know that I can't!

And, one more thing: If you'd like to see some more black and whites from this week's photo challenge, head over to I Should Be Folding Laundry and take a peek.  Next week the challenge is Drinks, and I'm pretty sure I'll be all over that one!  

Let that pony run.

Last summer, when I was focused mostly on getting out and shaking what my mama gave me, I knew I was going to need a new stroller, but I needed to give myself some incentive to get there first.  Over the winter, after I started Weight Watchers, I set a weight goal for myself - not my ultimate goal, but a significant goal nonetheless, promising that when I got there, I would purchase a new jogging stroller.  Of course, I amended my goal to include a loophole.  If Mother's Day came first, then I would get a new stroller for Mother's Day, but the incentive was to get to that weight goal sooner, so I could get the stroller sooner.

My stroller came yesterday.  4 full days before Mother's Day.

I had been following its progress from Chicago to St. Paul to my house with the anticipation of a kid watching Santa-Sightings on Christmas Eve.  When the email came yesterday morning that it had been delivered, I could hardly wait to get home.  I raced through changing after work, getting Finn a snack and hauling that big box out to the garage.  As I was putting it together, Finn kept calling it his race car, which made me laugh.  He tried to help me with the tools...a screwdriver in one hand and a hammer in the other, his "help" was limited to banging on the garage floor.

We took off on down the trail and it is amazing what a difference a good stroller makes during a walk.  I set a brisk walking pace to begin with and as we got deeper into the trail, as the sun heated up my back and arms, the need to run seemed to overtake me.  We started off slowly - I'm not much of a runner and I'm smart enough to know that owning a jogging stroller doesn't automatically make me one.  But as we got going, as I set the pace a little bit faster, it got a little bit easier.  We'd slow to a walk when my lungs were burning and then I picked up the pace again.  Our 4 miles consisted of a series of walks and runs and by the time we looped around to the park, my muscles were happily fatigued.

I met my match on the trail, that little voice in my head that sometimes says: "You can't do that."  I looked her dead in the eye and yesterday, I started running.

{52 Photos Project: Where We Meet}

Last summer, when I was focused mostly on getting out and shaking what my mama gave me, I knew I was going to need a new stroller, but I needed to give myself some incentive to get there first.  Over the winter, after I started Weight Watchers, I set a weight goal for myself - not my ultimate goal, but a significant goal nonetheless, promising that when I got there, I would purchase a new jogging stroller.  Of course, I amended my goal to include a loophole.  If Mother's Day came first, then I would get a new stroller for Mother's Day, but the incentive was to get to that weight goal sooner, so I could get the stroller sooner.

My stroller came yesterday.  4 full days before Mother's Day.

I had been following its progress from Chicago to St. Paul to my house with the anticipation of a kid watching Santa-Sightings on Christmas Eve.  When the email came yesterday morning that it had been delivered, I could hardly wait to get home.  I raced through changing after work, getting Finn a snack and hauling that big box out to the garage.  As I was putting it together, Finn kept calling it his race car, which made me laugh.  He tried to help me with the tools...a screwdriver in one hand and a hammer in the other, his "help" was limited to banging on the garage floor.

We took off on down the trail and it is amazing what a difference a good stroller makes during a walk.  I set a brisk walking pace to begin with and as we got deeper into the trail, as the sun heated up my back and arms, the need to run seemed to overtake me.  We started off slowly - I'm not much of a runner and I'm smart enough to know that owning a jogging stroller doesn't automatically make me one.  But as we got going, as I set the pace a little bit faster, it got a little bit easier.  We'd slow to a walk when my lungs were burning and then I picked up the pace again.  Our 4 miles consisted of a series of walks and runs and by the time we looped around to the park, my muscles were happily fatigued.

I met my match on the trail, that little voice in my head that sometimes says: "You can't do that."  I looked her dead in the eye and yesterday, I started running.

{52 Photos Project: Where We Meet}

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day...

...Or so my mother used to tell me every morning of my growing up years.  Being a person who would rather not face the morning, I would usually mumble something under my breath about the stupid sun and need more sleepy, slide into my seat at the table and eat whatever it was she put before me.  Cereal, oatmeal, toast with peanut butter, English muffins.  If I didn't have to make it or give it a second thought, I was good to go.

These days, I make Abby a breakfast menu each week because honestly, I don't like to get up (I put my coffee on delay brew before I go to bed so that it's ready for me before I even get up in the morning!).  And also, she's in 7th grade.  She can make an egg without burning our house down.  I make sure to double or triple the recipe for pancakes and waffles so that I can have them in the freezer for easy toasting in the morning.  I make extra french toast and yummy little breakfast biscuits that are full of cheese and sausage.  She can make hot cereal or oatmeal and we leave the cold cereal as a special weekend treat (because more often that not, it's a somewhat sugary cereal and I'd rather she eat something before school that will stick with her.).

As for me, breakfast is a little bit more of a struggle.  Being on a pretty tight food budget, I really do have to plan out my breakfast in the same way that I plan out my lunches and dinners.  In my previous life, breakfast consisted of a mocha from Starbucks and a blueberry muffin.  Then I got wise to the carb-induced free-fall my morning would take after that gigantic muffin and started making my own, significantly smaller muffins, at home; I thought I was being thrifty.  But as easy as yanking a muffin out of the freezer is and warming it up in the microwave to have with my coffee is quick, I know that it's probably not going to last me until lunchtime. I've started supplementing my breakfast with fruit and yogurt.  I sacrifice a little bit more of my budget (both food-wise and monetarily) with Noosa yogurt, it is the best yogurt I have ever had: raspberry, mango, strawberry-rhubarb...flavors that almost make it worth getting up in the morning.  I said almost.

I used to think that eggs took so much time in the morning and oh, the cholesterol!  Be still my ever burgeoning arteries!  The fact is, eggs are brain food and they will stick with me all morning long.  I've taken to having an egg (fried in little bit of olive oil, not butter.) on dry whole wheat toast, a little bit of fat free cottage cheese and a piece of fruit.  It takes less than 5 minutes to put together in the morning and it keeps me full all the way until lunch...and even a little bit beyond!

My super favorite these days, though, is oatmeal.  I love oatmeal with fresh strawberries.  I love oatmeal with apples and cinnamon.  I love oatmeal with craisins.  I love oatmeal.  And Finn loves oatmeal, too, so we usually share one serving.  I sweeten it with a little bit of honey and I always make my oatmeal with milk instead of water - it makes for a little bit thicker oatmeal plus I get to count it as a serving of milk.  Since I don't drink milk by the glass (a hold-over from my low-carb days.), I need to sneak my calcium in however I can.

I'm sure you're wondering why I don't just follow Abby's breakfast plan.  Truthfully, I probably could, but right now I don't want to sacrifice that many points on breakfast; I'd rather save them for dinner or for a mid-afternoon snack.  Having pancakes or waffles in the morning isn't the best use of my current food budget.  Someday, when I'm at a comfortable weight, I will be able to slip in a morning of rainbow pancakes with my kids or Uriah's biscuits and sausage gravy.  In the meantime, I'm content with something that I know is going to hold me over until lunch.

What about you?  What are your go-to breakfasts?  How do you keep your tummy from grumbling before noon?

...Or so my mother used to tell me every morning of my growing up years.  Being a person who would rather not face the morning, I would usually mumble something under my breath about the stupid sun and need more sleepy, slide into my seat at the table and eat whatever it was she put before me.  Cereal, oatmeal, toast with peanut butter, English muffins.  If I didn't have to make it or give it a second thought, I was good to go.

These days, I make Abby a breakfast menu each week because honestly, I don't like to get up (I put my coffee on delay brew before I go to bed so that it's ready for me before I even get up in the morning!).  And also, she's in 7th grade.  She can make an egg without burning our house down.  I make sure to double or triple the recipe for pancakes and waffles so that I can have them in the freezer for easy toasting in the morning.  I make extra french toast and yummy little breakfast biscuits that are full of cheese and sausage.  She can make hot cereal or oatmeal and we leave the cold cereal as a special weekend treat (because more often that not, it's a somewhat sugary cereal and I'd rather she eat something before school that will stick with her.).

As for me, breakfast is a little bit more of a struggle.  Being on a pretty tight food budget, I really do have to plan out my breakfast in the same way that I plan out my lunches and dinners.  In my previous life, breakfast consisted of a mocha from Starbucks and a blueberry muffin.  Then I got wise to the carb-induced free-fall my morning would take after that gigantic muffin and started making my own, significantly smaller muffins, at home; I thought I was being thrifty.  But as easy as yanking a muffin out of the freezer is and warming it up in the microwave to have with my coffee is quick, I know that it's probably not going to last me until lunchtime. I've started supplementing my breakfast with fruit and yogurt.  I sacrifice a little bit more of my budget (both food-wise and monetarily) with Noosa yogurt, it is the best yogurt I have ever had: raspberry, mango, strawberry-rhubarb...flavors that almost make it worth getting up in the morning.  I said almost.

I used to think that eggs took so much time in the morning and oh, the cholesterol!  Be still my ever burgeoning arteries!  The fact is, eggs are brain food and they will stick with me all morning long.  I've taken to having an egg (fried in little bit of olive oil, not butter.) on dry whole wheat toast, a little bit of fat free cottage cheese and a piece of fruit.  It takes less than 5 minutes to put together in the morning and it keeps me full all the way until lunch...and even a little bit beyond!

My super favorite these days, though, is oatmeal.  I love oatmeal with fresh strawberries.  I love oatmeal with apples and cinnamon.  I love oatmeal with craisins.  I love oatmeal.  And Finn loves oatmeal, too, so we usually share one serving.  I sweeten it with a little bit of honey and I always make my oatmeal with milk instead of water - it makes for a little bit thicker oatmeal plus I get to count it as a serving of milk.  Since I don't drink milk by the glass (a hold-over from my low-carb days.), I need to sneak my calcium in however I can.

I'm sure you're wondering why I don't just follow Abby's breakfast plan.  Truthfully, I probably could, but right now I don't want to sacrifice that many points on breakfast; I'd rather save them for dinner or for a mid-afternoon snack.  Having pancakes or waffles in the morning isn't the best use of my current food budget.  Someday, when I'm at a comfortable weight, I will be able to slip in a morning of rainbow pancakes with my kids or Uriah's biscuits and sausage gravy.  In the meantime, I'm content with something that I know is going to hold me over until lunch.

What about you?  What are your go-to breakfasts?  How do you keep your tummy from grumbling before noon?

On weight.

My intention in life was never to be a fat person, as I suppose it isn't truly the intention of anyone.  I didn't want weight to define me, and probably to most people, it's a non-issue - I like to think that fat, skinny, toned or beefy - whatever your body type, people look inside first.  That certainly is the case with my husband, who has never made me feel less than beautiful.  He finds me mildly amusing, he likes to hold my hand, and he tells me how much he loves me every single day.  The things he finds attractive about me have nothing to do with what the scale says.

But the fact is that I have allowed weight to define me.

Gaining weight is so easy; effortless, really.  It happened practically over night.  It happened in and around life happening - between jobs and boyfriends and moves.  It happened while I was falling in love.  It happened while we navigated family court.  It happened in the months leading up to my wedding.  It happened every week between Monday and Sunday.  It gained momentum over me and before I could stop it, I weighed more than I had ever thought possible for myself.  And even as the scale tipped in a precarious direction, I seemed unable to permanently change the course I was on.  My weight fluctuated based on what I wanted at the time.  It was never really about me, it was always about things that I wanted: to look good in my wedding dress, to have a baby, to be seen in public in a bathing suit.  And while these were all noble wants, they weren't long term goals.

But the diet would always start tomorrow.  Or I'd set unrealistic expectations for myself and the moment that I didn't meet them or fell off of the wagon or didn't go to the gym that one time - I quit.  I didn't allow myself the opportunity to redeem myself because my short-term wants did not equate to long-term goals.  And so I spent years with my weight fluctuating up and down - heavy one month; less heavy the next month.  But it was never consistently moving in a downward slope and I was never truly healthy.  And then I got pregnant before I could loose the weight that I wanted to and I gained 56 pounds (I just threw up a little bit in my mouth writing that.) on top of the 50 pounds that I had intended to loose before I got pregnant.  You do the math.  Surprised I had a healthy, full-term baby without any complications or prenatal diabetes?  Yeah, some days I am, too.

I was not active at all during the 9 months that I was pregnant.  I came home after work - waddled home, is more like it - on feet that hurt even though I had basically sat all day.  I craved oranges and chocolate milkshakes (although, thankfully not together).  And was still somehow surprised that between milkshakes and growing a human, I gained a lot of weight.  It's true that you do loose some weight after you expel said human, and I did.  When I stepped on the scale at my 6-week postpartum visit, I breathed a sigh of relief the the number had gone down.  But my weight loss hit a plateau because I wasn't nursing and I still wasn't active.  I spent the months following Finn's birth feeling extra heavy and extra tired and extra unambitious.  I have precious few pictures of Finneaus and me from his first few months.  I never put myself in front of the camera because I didn't like what I saw.  I was doomed to repeat the same cycle I had encountered before: the diet was always going to start tomorrow; I gave up too easily; I was looking for a short-term fix.  Or I used the excuse of being too tired with a new baby.  I went back to work and by the time I got home in the evening, I just wanted to play with my baby before he went to sleep, eat dinner with the rest of my family, and spend time with my husband.

When the opportunity to move away from the city fell into our laps - and with it, the security for me to stay home with Finn and Abby - we jumped on it.  Suddenly I would have time - time to exercise, time to plan and eat healthy, time to make a long-term weight loss goal.  But moving is a wicked form of torture and as my last day of work came and went and was replaced by the stress of packing, of finding a place to live, of unpacking, of dealing with the emotions of an uprooted 11 year old girl high on drama, I found myself as tired as I was in the city and with even with even less motivation and energy than I had when I worked full-time and came home to take care of my family.  I was suddenly navigating single-parenting while my husband worked 12+ hour days.  I felt as though I was doing it all (although, I think some of that was the high of the move wearing off and the stress of being in a new place with no family within a 3 hours of us for the first time in the history of all of our parenting years) and I found myself falling into bed at the end of the day a little bit uncomfortable with this new stay-at-home life that I thought I was going to love.

And then the best thing in the world happened to me.

I threw out my back.

We're not talking a little tweak in the back.  We are talking a full-blown, muscle-spasms, wrenched back; a pain that the pain-killers I had left over from giving birth couldn't touch.  It was worse than childbirth and, as I have now experienced both, I feel as though I can say that with some level of confidence.  I made noises that I didn't think were possible when I sat down or stood up or bent over to pick up the baby (because Finn wasn't walking yet) or laid him down in his crib (which was more like a tuck and roll maneuver that inevitably woke him up, not that I can blame him.).  Remember that part about Uriah working 12+ hour days at his new job?  That also meant that there was no sick time for him to be able to stay home and help me, or to even leave work early or go in late to give me a break.  I was on my own.  I went to the chiropractor without relief (and without insurance).  My husband helped me into bed at night and I stayed in the same position because, even though it's uncomfortable to sleep in one position without moving, it was more uncomfortable to try to move and when I did move, the pain woke me up. After x-rays and ultrasonic treatments (those hurt like a son of a biscuit, let me tell you!) and so many adjustments that I felt like the chiropractor was my new best friend, the pain started to ease.  I was still afraid every time I sat down that I wouldn't be able to get back up again and that the pain would return full-force.  But slowly that fear started to ease, as well.  I still woke up every morning so stiff it brought tears to my eyes, but the muscles seemed to loosen throughout the day the more I moved.  The best advice I got from my chiropractor was to move and keep moving.  And he told me, gently but firmly, that loosing weight would help this awful pain to not repeat.  I read between the lines.  I needed to do something about my weight immediately.

So every morning, bright and early, Uriah would help me out of bed, he would change Finn and slather him in baby sunscreen and carry him down the stairs for me because it took me at least 10 minutes to get dressed.  I took the stairs one at a time, one hand on the banister, the other clutching my back to make sure the muscles wouldn't spasm.  I eased into a chair, breathing through my nose and clenching my teeth, and waited for Uriah to put my socks and shoes on for me and then he'd carry Finn outside and secure him in the stroller.  Then we kissed Uriah good-bye, knowing he would be long gone by the time we returned from our walk, and we took off down the road.

Old ladies passed me every single morning on our walk.  I shuffled for the first mile, and by the time we hit the "turn-around spot," I could set a bit brisker pace.  And by that, I mean I could walk like a normal person, not shuffling, exactly, but by no means could my walk be considered anything more than a casual stroll to an on-looker.  We walked as the day heated up.  We walked before the mosquitoes got bad.  We walked every morning and sometimes in the evening if we were lucky enough for Uriah to be home before the sun went down.  Our two-mile daily walk - which had me huffing and puffing and sweating through my shirts - turned into three then four miles.  When Uriah brought home a bike trailer for Finn, we mapped a 5 mile bike ride on the trail and slowly increased it to 10 mile bike rides by the end of the summer.  I started to breathe easier.  My clothes fit a little looser.  My face stopped feeling so puffy.  I wore shorts for the first time since 1993.  I lost 20 pounds over the summer just by walking and modifying my carb-intake.  I felt like I had more energy in that one summer than I had at any point in the past 5 years.

The fall and winter found us walking less and less outside.  I started a part-time job and I tried to keep up with working out on a treadmill after work, but walking on a treadmill is a lonely business.  I much prefer to talk with Finn about leaves and birds and squirrels as we traverse the trails.  I like the smell of the trees and fresh-cut grass.  I like the way the wind cools me down.  I like hearing Finn's constant chatter and his fingers pointing out every truck and motorcycle and puppy that passes us.  I like it when Abby comes along; it gives me a chance to grill her on the intricacies of 7th grade life - it gives us a chance to be together and to show her that being active isn't just limited to basketball and volleyball during the school season.  I like it when Uriah comes along - he pushes the stroller and gives me a chance to swing my arms a little bit (arm fat is a funny, giggly thing.  I need to lift more weights.).

I hit a plateau this winter, though, and needed to change some things.  More to the point, I needed some accountability.  A low-carb diet works fantastic for me; my body seems to hang onto any carbs that I eat for dear life, so when I cut them out, or cut back on them drastically, I tend to loose weight.  However, it wasn't a practical lifestyle choice for the rest of my family.  I like to share a grilled cheese sandwich with my son and I really like mashed potatoes.  What I didn't like was feeling guilty when I did have something that was high-carb (crackers with my cheese snack, potato chips on our picnic).  I also needed to learn how to eat correctly - maybe healthfully is a better word - and what portion control really meant.  Since I couldn't do it on my own, and admittedly, I am my own worst enemy when it comes to weight loss, just before Christmas I joined Weight Watchers.

This is not an endorsement of Weight Watchers, although if you ask me, I will tell you why I think it's great and why it works so well for me.  Instead, I will simply say that I am learning how to eat all of the things that I love - carbs included - in moderation.  I am learning how to make small changes that won't cause my family to revolt on me - fat free this and light that - a little at a time.  I am learning that food doesn't taste different when I make those changes.  I am learning what a portion really looks like.  I am learning how to be active, eat correctly to fuel my body and, most importantly, I'm learning to be comfortable with the more healthy person that I'm becoming.

And after 4 months of following the plan, I can check an additional 20 pounds off of my weight loss goal.

Is every day a healthy picnic in the park?  Hell, no!  It takes time and patience - time, I have; patience, I lack.  but being healthy happens one day at a time.  Some days I really just want a hamburger and french fries.  Those are the days that I have a support system in place and I rely on it heavily.  Uriah will ask me if  I really want to blow all of my daily points on one meal.  Obviously, I don't and obviously I know that it'll just blow the rest of the day because it's not realistic to eat just one meal.  Instead, we come up with alternatives.  Yes, a few french fries are okay - if they're baked oven fries.  Instead of a hamburger, we'll do a turkey burger or a chicken burger.  Uriah helps me plan meals that are going to stay within my eating guidelines and I am very, very lucky to have him in my corner.

I am not even close to the end of my goal - I have a lot of pounds to go, but the momentum is there and I am well on my way.  I had to train myself that the weight was going to come off slowly this time, to give my body time to adjust and become comfortable with less of things.  This time, weight loss is a marathon, not a sprint.  My goal is to be healthy: for myself, first and for my family, second.  I want to bypass my family's history of diabetes and high cholesterol and high blood pressure.  This is all about me, my friends - but in a good way, this time!  I want to know that I can keep the weight off - or, if we choose to have another baby sometime in the future, that I can keep my weight in check and not allow it to get out of control (side eye to the milkshakes that I loved before!) and get back to a healthy weight in a healthy amount of time afterwards.  I want to continue to stay active.  I want to run around my backyard with my son and not have to sit down because I'm out of breath.  Most importantly, however, I want to set a good, healthy, and active example for my children.

And, selfishly, I want to wear a bathing suit in public without feeling self-conscious or embarrassed.  I told Uriah the other night that by this time next year I will be ready to take a vacation to Mexico.  And I will buy my swimming suit from Victoria's Secret.

It's all about having attainable goals, right?!

This post has gotten really long, thank you for reading this far!  It has taken me a lot of days to write and reflect, and honestly, to get up the courage to share it.  Weight and weight loss are such personal things and most of it is tied into more than just an inability to put the spoon down.  The thoughts and feelings that we each have regarding our own bodies can be the starting point for some really great discussions if we can first get past our own reluctance.  If we each make small choices, I believe that we can help each other be stronger and healthier.  If you've done something great for yourself, or for your family, to become healthier, sharing is always good!

That being said, join me on Monday, won't you?  I'd like to show you in pictures what a difference 40 pounds can make.

My intention in life was never to be a fat person, as I suppose it isn't truly the intention of anyone.  I didn't want weight to define me, and probably to most people, it's a non-issue - I like to think that fat, skinny, toned or beefy - whatever your body type, people look inside first.  That certainly is the case with my husband, who has never made me feel less than beautiful.  He finds me mildly amusing, he likes to hold my hand, and he tells me how much he loves me every single day.  The things he finds attractive about me have nothing to do with what the scale says.

But the fact is that I have allowed weight to define me.

Gaining weight is so easy; effortless, really.  It happened practically over night.  It happened in and around life happening - between jobs and boyfriends and moves.  It happened while I was falling in love.  It happened while we navigated family court.  It happened in the months leading up to my wedding.  It happened every week between Monday and Sunday.  It gained momentum over me and before I could stop it, I weighed more than I had ever thought possible for myself.  And even as the scale tipped in a precarious direction, I seemed unable to permanently change the course I was on.  My weight fluctuated based on what I wanted at the time.  It was never really about me, it was always about things that I wanted: to look good in my wedding dress, to have a baby, to be seen in public in a bathing suit.  And while these were all noble wants, they weren't long term goals.

But the diet would always start tomorrow.  Or I'd set unrealistic expectations for myself and the moment that I didn't meet them or fell off of the wagon or didn't go to the gym that one time - I quit.  I didn't allow myself the opportunity to redeem myself because my short-term wants did not equate to long-term goals.  And so I spent years with my weight fluctuating up and down - heavy one month; less heavy the next month.  But it was never consistently moving in a downward slope and I was never truly healthy.  And then I got pregnant before I could loose the weight that I wanted to and I gained 56 pounds (I just threw up a little bit in my mouth writing that.) on top of the 50 pounds that I had intended to loose before I got pregnant.  You do the math.  Surprised I had a healthy, full-term baby without any complications or prenatal diabetes?  Yeah, some days I am, too.

I was not active at all during the 9 months that I was pregnant.  I came home after work - waddled home, is more like it - on feet that hurt even though I had basically sat all day.  I craved oranges and chocolate milkshakes (although, thankfully not together).  And was still somehow surprised that between milkshakes and growing a human, I gained a lot of weight.  It's true that you do loose some weight after you expel said human, and I did.  When I stepped on the scale at my 6-week postpartum visit, I breathed a sigh of relief the the number had gone down.  But my weight loss hit a plateau because I wasn't nursing and I still wasn't active.  I spent the months following Finn's birth feeling extra heavy and extra tired and extra unambitious.  I have precious few pictures of Finneaus and me from his first few months.  I never put myself in front of the camera because I didn't like what I saw.  I was doomed to repeat the same cycle I had encountered before: the diet was always going to start tomorrow; I gave up too easily; I was looking for a short-term fix.  Or I used the excuse of being too tired with a new baby.  I went back to work and by the time I got home in the evening, I just wanted to play with my baby before he went to sleep, eat dinner with the rest of my family, and spend time with my husband.

When the opportunity to move away from the city fell into our laps - and with it, the security for me to stay home with Finn and Abby - we jumped on it.  Suddenly I would have time - time to exercise, time to plan and eat healthy, time to make a long-term weight loss goal.  But moving is a wicked form of torture and as my last day of work came and went and was replaced by the stress of packing, of finding a place to live, of unpacking, of dealing with the emotions of an uprooted 11 year old girl high on drama, I found myself as tired as I was in the city and with even with even less motivation and energy than I had when I worked full-time and came home to take care of my family.  I was suddenly navigating single-parenting while my husband worked 12+ hour days.  I felt as though I was doing it all (although, I think some of that was the high of the move wearing off and the stress of being in a new place with no family within a 3 hours of us for the first time in the history of all of our parenting years) and I found myself falling into bed at the end of the day a little bit uncomfortable with this new stay-at-home life that I thought I was going to love.

And then the best thing in the world happened to me.

I threw out my back.

We're not talking a little tweak in the back.  We are talking a full-blown, muscle-spasms, wrenched back; a pain that the pain-killers I had left over from giving birth couldn't touch.  It was worse than childbirth and, as I have now experienced both, I feel as though I can say that with some level of confidence.  I made noises that I didn't think were possible when I sat down or stood up or bent over to pick up the baby (because Finn wasn't walking yet) or laid him down in his crib (which was more like a tuck and roll maneuver that inevitably woke him up, not that I can blame him.).  Remember that part about Uriah working 12+ hour days at his new job?  That also meant that there was no sick time for him to be able to stay home and help me, or to even leave work early or go in late to give me a break.  I was on my own.  I went to the chiropractor without relief (and without insurance).  My husband helped me into bed at night and I stayed in the same position because, even though it's uncomfortable to sleep in one position without moving, it was more uncomfortable to try to move and when I did move, the pain woke me up. After x-rays and ultrasonic treatments (those hurt like a son of a biscuit, let me tell you!) and so many adjustments that I felt like the chiropractor was my new best friend, the pain started to ease.  I was still afraid every time I sat down that I wouldn't be able to get back up again and that the pain would return full-force.  But slowly that fear started to ease, as well.  I still woke up every morning so stiff it brought tears to my eyes, but the muscles seemed to loosen throughout the day the more I moved.  The best advice I got from my chiropractor was to move and keep moving.  And he told me, gently but firmly, that loosing weight would help this awful pain to not repeat.  I read between the lines.  I needed to do something about my weight immediately.

So every morning, bright and early, Uriah would help me out of bed, he would change Finn and slather him in baby sunscreen and carry him down the stairs for me because it took me at least 10 minutes to get dressed.  I took the stairs one at a time, one hand on the banister, the other clutching my back to make sure the muscles wouldn't spasm.  I eased into a chair, breathing through my nose and clenching my teeth, and waited for Uriah to put my socks and shoes on for me and then he'd carry Finn outside and secure him in the stroller.  Then we kissed Uriah good-bye, knowing he would be long gone by the time we returned from our walk, and we took off down the road.

Old ladies passed me every single morning on our walk.  I shuffled for the first mile, and by the time we hit the "turn-around spot," I could set a bit brisker pace.  And by that, I mean I could walk like a normal person, not shuffling, exactly, but by no means could my walk be considered anything more than a casual stroll to an on-looker.  We walked as the day heated up.  We walked before the mosquitoes got bad.  We walked every morning and sometimes in the evening if we were lucky enough for Uriah to be home before the sun went down.  Our two-mile daily walk - which had me huffing and puffing and sweating through my shirts - turned into three then four miles.  When Uriah brought home a bike trailer for Finn, we mapped a 5 mile bike ride on the trail and slowly increased it to 10 mile bike rides by the end of the summer.  I started to breathe easier.  My clothes fit a little looser.  My face stopped feeling so puffy.  I wore shorts for the first time since 1993.  I lost 20 pounds over the summer just by walking and modifying my carb-intake.  I felt like I had more energy in that one summer than I had at any point in the past 5 years.

The fall and winter found us walking less and less outside.  I started a part-time job and I tried to keep up with working out on a treadmill after work, but walking on a treadmill is a lonely business.  I much prefer to talk with Finn about leaves and birds and squirrels as we traverse the trails.  I like the smell of the trees and fresh-cut grass.  I like the way the wind cools me down.  I like hearing Finn's constant chatter and his fingers pointing out every truck and motorcycle and puppy that passes us.  I like it when Abby comes along; it gives me a chance to grill her on the intricacies of 7th grade life - it gives us a chance to be together and to show her that being active isn't just limited to basketball and volleyball during the school season.  I like it when Uriah comes along - he pushes the stroller and gives me a chance to swing my arms a little bit (arm fat is a funny, giggly thing.  I need to lift more weights.).

I hit a plateau this winter, though, and needed to change some things.  More to the point, I needed some accountability.  A low-carb diet works fantastic for me; my body seems to hang onto any carbs that I eat for dear life, so when I cut them out, or cut back on them drastically, I tend to loose weight.  However, it wasn't a practical lifestyle choice for the rest of my family.  I like to share a grilled cheese sandwich with my son and I really like mashed potatoes.  What I didn't like was feeling guilty when I did have something that was high-carb (crackers with my cheese snack, potato chips on our picnic).  I also needed to learn how to eat correctly - maybe healthfully is a better word - and what portion control really meant.  Since I couldn't do it on my own, and admittedly, I am my own worst enemy when it comes to weight loss, just before Christmas I joined Weight Watchers.

This is not an endorsement of Weight Watchers, although if you ask me, I will tell you why I think it's great and why it works so well for me.  Instead, I will simply say that I am learning how to eat all of the things that I love - carbs included - in moderation.  I am learning how to make small changes that won't cause my family to revolt on me - fat free this and light that - a little at a time.  I am learning that food doesn't taste different when I make those changes.  I am learning what a portion really looks like.  I am learning how to be active, eat correctly to fuel my body and, most importantly, I'm learning to be comfortable with the more healthy person that I'm becoming.

And after 4 months of following the plan, I can check an additional 20 pounds off of my weight loss goal.

Is every day a healthy picnic in the park?  Hell, no!  It takes time and patience - time, I have; patience, I lack.  but being healthy happens one day at a time.  Some days I really just want a hamburger and french fries.  Those are the days that I have a support system in place and I rely on it heavily.  Uriah will ask me if  I really want to blow all of my daily points on one meal.  Obviously, I don't and obviously I know that it'll just blow the rest of the day because it's not realistic to eat just one meal.  Instead, we come up with alternatives.  Yes, a few french fries are okay - if they're baked oven fries.  Instead of a hamburger, we'll do a turkey burger or a chicken burger.  Uriah helps me plan meals that are going to stay within my eating guidelines and I am very, very lucky to have him in my corner.

I am not even close to the end of my goal - I have a lot of pounds to go, but the momentum is there and I am well on my way.  I had to train myself that the weight was going to come off slowly this time, to give my body time to adjust and become comfortable with less of things.  This time, weight loss is a marathon, not a sprint.  My goal is to be healthy: for myself, first and for my family, second.  I want to bypass my family's history of diabetes and high cholesterol and high blood pressure.  This is all about me, my friends - but in a good way, this time!  I want to know that I can keep the weight off - or, if we choose to have another baby sometime in the future, that I can keep my weight in check and not allow it to get out of control (side eye to the milkshakes that I loved before!) and get back to a healthy weight in a healthy amount of time afterwards.  I want to continue to stay active.  I want to run around my backyard with my son and not have to sit down because I'm out of breath.  Most importantly, however, I want to set a good, healthy, and active example for my children.

And, selfishly, I want to wear a bathing suit in public without feeling self-conscious or embarrassed.  I told Uriah the other night that by this time next year I will be ready to take a vacation to Mexico.  And I will buy my swimming suit from Victoria's Secret.

It's all about having attainable goals, right?!

This post has gotten really long, thank you for reading this far!  It has taken me a lot of days to write and reflect, and honestly, to get up the courage to share it.  Weight and weight loss are such personal things and most of it is tied into more than just an inability to put the spoon down.  The thoughts and feelings that we each have regarding our own bodies can be the starting point for some really great discussions if we can first get past our own reluctance.  If we each make small choices, I believe that we can help each other be stronger and healthier.  If you've done something great for yourself, or for your family, to become healthier, sharing is always good!

That being said, join me on Monday, won't you?  I'd like to show you in pictures what a difference 40 pounds can make.

Keep on Truckin'

Weight loss lesson of the day: It is just as good to step on the scale and remain exactly the same as it is to step on the scale and have a loss. Staying the same means that I did something right because I didn't gain anything.  It also means that I need to step it up a notch this coming week - more exercise.  Less chocolate chip cookies.

I said I was going to be kinder to myself this year.
I'm trying.

Happy almost Friday, friends...

Weight loss lesson of the day: It is just as good to step on the scale and remain exactly the same as it is to step on the scale and have a loss. Staying the same means that I did something right because I didn't gain anything.  It also means that I need to step it up a notch this coming week - more exercise.  Less chocolate chip cookies.

I said I was going to be kinder to myself this year.
I'm trying.

Happy almost Friday, friends...

Cookies.

I'm working on a post about weight...a weighty subject, if you will.

In the meantime, while I get my words and my brain to be less jumbly, enjoy some pictures of cookies.

And an adorable boy eating cookies.

Because that's sweeter and much easier to share right now.

I'm working on a post about weight...a weighty subject, if you will.

In the meantime, while I get my words and my brain to be less jumbly, enjoy some pictures of cookies.

And an adorable boy eating cookies.

Because that's sweeter and much easier to share right now.

This week's weight loss brought to you by chip dip.

Okay.  So, results at this week's weigh-in are mixed.

Yes, I did get in my 3 work-outs (Yeah! And 3 more for next week.) but I realize that I was also counter balancing some weekend cocktails.  And my mom's chip dip.  And chocolate covered espresso beans (those things are crack-cocaine!).  I did loose some weight - not a lot and better than going in the other direction.  However, the lesson that I've taken away from this is to work out before I hit the weekend hard - and after, too.  But, I believe that the pre-planning is essential.  I think I could have lost a little bit more if I had just gotten my lazy bum in gear last week.

Let me tell you, for just one minute, about my mom's chip dip - aptly titled, Clara Dip.  It has cheese and black olives and guacamole and some other stuff that I can't remember right now (or just can't type because I'm drooling just thinking about that dip!).  It is happiness on a chip.  I ate a lot of it over the weekend.  I will neither confrim nor deny that I scooped it onto a spoon and ate it without a chip. 

However, happiness on a chip means layers on my hips (yes, I did just type that.).  Instead of your go-to guacamole dip or Seven-Layer Mexican Dip or even my own mother's sainted Clara Dip, try Avocado-Bean Guacamole next time you need some chips and dip.  It really does taste like guacamole and you'd never know that there is only one avocado in there and the rest of the dippy bulk is made up from a can of white beans.  And instead of eating chips, I've discovered Chip'ins, which are popcorn-type chips.  They taste like honest-to-goodness real chips.  But healthier.

And I like healthier these days.  I totally feel good about eating this dip while looking through the Victoria's Secret Swim Suit catalog that came this week.  And I promise, next year I am going to buy one of those swimming suits.

• ½ cup minced red onion
• 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
• 15 oz. white beans, rinsed and drained
• 1 medium avocado, peeled and chopped
• ¼ cup plum tomatoes, finely diced
• 2 tablespoons cilantro, chopped
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• ½ teaspoon table salt
• ½ teaspoon hot pepper sauce
• ¼ teaspoon cumin

Put everything in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until blended.  Transfer to a serving dish, covered, until ready to serve.

Recipe adapted from Weight Watchers.

Makes about 2 cups total; approximately 8 servings. 

Thankfuls:

4. The world-wide interweb for fixing my baby.

5. Nurse-help lines.

6. Cinnamon-Raisin Bread

Okay.  So, results at this week's weigh-in are mixed.

Yes, I did get in my 3 work-outs (Yeah! And 3 more for next week.) but I realize that I was also counter balancing some weekend cocktails.  And my mom's chip dip.  And chocolate covered espresso beans (those things are crack-cocaine!).  I did loose some weight - not a lot and better than going in the other direction.  However, the lesson that I've taken away from this is to work out before I hit the weekend hard - and after, too.  But, I believe that the pre-planning is essential.  I think I could have lost a little bit more if I had just gotten my lazy bum in gear last week.

Let me tell you, for just one minute, about my mom's chip dip - aptly titled, Clara Dip.  It has cheese and black olives and guacamole and some other stuff that I can't remember right now (or just can't type because I'm drooling just thinking about that dip!).  It is happiness on a chip.  I ate a lot of it over the weekend.  I will neither confrim nor deny that I scooped it onto a spoon and ate it without a chip. 

However, happiness on a chip means layers on my hips (yes, I did just type that.).  Instead of your go-to guacamole dip or Seven-Layer Mexican Dip or even my own mother's sainted Clara Dip, try Avocado-Bean Guacamole next time you need some chips and dip.  It really does taste like guacamole and you'd never know that there is only one avocado in there and the rest of the dippy bulk is made up from a can of white beans.  And instead of eating chips, I've discovered Chip'ins, which are popcorn-type chips.  They taste like honest-to-goodness real chips.  But healthier.

And I like healthier these days.  I totally feel good about eating this dip while looking through the Victoria's Secret Swim Suit catalog that came this week.  And I promise, next year I am going to buy one of those swimming suits.

• ½ cup minced red onion
• 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
• 15 oz. white beans, rinsed and drained
• 1 medium avocado, peeled and chopped
• ¼ cup plum tomatoes, finely diced
• 2 tablespoons cilantro, chopped
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• ½ teaspoon table salt
• ½ teaspoon hot pepper sauce
• ¼ teaspoon cumin

Put everything in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until blended.  Transfer to a serving dish, covered, until ready to serve.

Recipe adapted from Weight Watchers.

Makes about 2 cups total; approximately 8 servings. 

Thankfuls:

4. The world-wide interweb for fixing my baby.

5. Nurse-help lines.

6. Cinnamon-Raisin Bread

Meltdown...aisle 3.

We got some stares at the grocery store this afternoon as Finn pointed and said over and over in his loudest voice:  "Jews!  Jews!  Jews!"

He means juice, people.  He's missing a tooth and sometimes he lisps, for crying out loud - cut him some slack!  And did you know that not being able to hold the damn juice would be cause for a back arching, real tears, full blown meltdown?  Oh, it was...glorious.

In other news, I'm still too lazy to find my camera cord and therefore have not dumped my camera, which is why I've been taking pictures with my piece of crap phone camera.

I was not, however, too lazy to work out this afternoon.  Well, I was too lazy in my head, but I pushed myself anyway.  I even ran.  My legs will feel that little bit of torture tomorrow, I'm sure.

2 down, 1 to go.  This better pay off on Thursday.

We got some stares at the grocery store this afternoon as Finn pointed and said over and over in his loudest voice:  "Jews!  Jews!  Jews!"

He means juice, people.  He's missing a tooth and sometimes he lisps, for crying out loud - cut him some slack!  And did you know that not being able to hold the damn juice would be cause for a back arching, real tears, full blown meltdown?  Oh, it was...glorious.

In other news, I'm still too lazy to find my camera cord and therefore have not dumped my camera, which is why I've been taking pictures with my piece of crap phone camera.

I was not, however, too lazy to work out this afternoon.  Well, I was too lazy in my head, but I pushed myself anyway.  I even ran.  My legs will feel that little bit of torture tomorrow, I'm sure.

2 down, 1 to go.  This better pay off on Thursday.

Dispatch from the day

Hi.

I just wanted you to know that I got my workout in today.  1 down - 2 to go by Thursday.  And I'd pretty much talked myself out of it up until and during the time that I changed clothes in the bathroom.  I really did not want to work out this afternoon.  Really, really did not.

But I did and I (sort of) feel better for having done it.  My gym clothes are packed for tomorrow.

This was the scene out of my car window today on my way home from work (stopped at a stop sign - foot on the brake.) and which also explains why I really just wanted to go home and curl up under a blanket with my best boy after work instead of  sweating on a treadmill.

Hi.

I just wanted you to know that I got my workout in today.  1 down - 2 to go by Thursday.  And I'd pretty much talked myself out of it up until and during the time that I changed clothes in the bathroom.  I really did not want to work out this afternoon.  Really, really did not.

But I did and I (sort of) feel better for having done it.  My gym clothes are packed for tomorrow.

This was the scene out of my car window today on my way home from work (stopped at a stop sign - foot on the brake.) and which also explains why I really just wanted to go home and curl up under a blanket with my best boy after work instead of  sweating on a treadmill.

Backtrack and back on track.

My whole family was in town this weekend for Winter Camping - even Daniel was available for a visit on Saturday morning from Kuwait via skype.  We stayed at a hotel with a water park (which, coincidentally, is where I moonlight a couple of times a week), the kiddos swam themselves silly and looked like pruny little creatures for the majority of the weekend.  My parents got in some good visiting with the grandkids and with their own kids.  We ate and visited and drank and visited and it was, for the most part, a relaxing, much needed weekend of family time.  As soon as I unearth my camera cord and dump my pictures I will share with you.

Now I need to get back on track with my eating - and drinking - habits.  More water!  More fruit!  Another salad!  Less chip dip!  Less chocolate!  Less booze!  With the decision to loose weight came the realization that I need to be very careful about how much alcohol I drink.  I have started saving my cocktails for special occasions (like weekends with my siblings or date night with my husband - which, trust me, doesn't happen very often!).  I remind myself that having a glass of wine in the evening, no matter how tasty or how nicely it will compliment whatever it is we are having for dinner, that glass of wine is simply empty calories that I don't really need.

So, this week I am committing to 3 work-outs to work off the Bloody Mary(s) and wine I had this weekend and to ensure that when I step on the scale at the end of the week I get the results that I'm looking for.

Since I don't have any pictures from the weekend to share with you yet, let's backtrack to February of last year:

See you later, alligators!

My whole family was in town this weekend for Winter Camping - even Daniel was available for a visit on Saturday morning from Kuwait via skype.  We stayed at a hotel with a water park (which, coincidentally, is where I moonlight a couple of times a week), the kiddos swam themselves silly and looked like pruny little creatures for the majority of the weekend.  My parents got in some good visiting with the grandkids and with their own kids.  We ate and visited and drank and visited and it was, for the most part, a relaxing, much needed weekend of family time.  As soon as I unearth my camera cord and dump my pictures I will share with you.

Now I need to get back on track with my eating - and drinking - habits.  More water!  More fruit!  Another salad!  Less chip dip!  Less chocolate!  Less booze!  With the decision to loose weight came the realization that I need to be very careful about how much alcohol I drink.  I have started saving my cocktails for special occasions (like weekends with my siblings or date night with my husband - which, trust me, doesn't happen very often!).  I remind myself that having a glass of wine in the evening, no matter how tasty or how nicely it will compliment whatever it is we are having for dinner, that glass of wine is simply empty calories that I don't really need.

So, this week I am committing to 3 work-outs to work off the Bloody Mary(s) and wine I had this weekend and to ensure that when I step on the scale at the end of the week I get the results that I'm looking for.

Since I don't have any pictures from the weekend to share with you yet, let's backtrack to February of last year:

See you later, alligators!

Today I will make better choices.

Around Thanksgiving, as I was bitching about being fat, being out of breath, having flabby arms and a jiggly bum, too many chins and obese earlobes - and probably making a batch Extra Chocolaty Chocolate Chip Cookies while I was doing it - Uriah finally got fed up and told me to "shit or get off the pot."  We have an open relationship like that, so I didn't throw the mixing bowl of cookie dough at his head and run into another room crying.  Instead, I listened to what he had to say, and if we're being honest, what he'd been saying for awhile: I could either do something about my weight or I could just shut-up about it.  Because talking, talking, talking - and I'm very good at talking - was getting me nowhere.

I find it sort of amusing that I use pictures to track how big Finn is getting because I don't really realize how much he changes until I put two pictures side by side.  The same could be said of me - I didn't realize how big I was getting until I put two pictures side by side.  Some day, I'll show you a picture of me right before we moved from Kansas City, when I was at my heaviest, and a current picture.  When I work up the nerve.  It's not pretty and it's causing me to dig deeper into why I eat.  I can't blame my weight on being "big boned" or being "ill-proportioned."  There are clearly other reasons.  So when we came back from Thanksgiving I started to control my portions, I eat off of a small plate whenever possible, I eat more salads and most importantly,  I track what I eat.  Every. Single. Thing.  And let me tell you, all those Christmas cookies that I baked did not get eaten by me because I didn't want to write down: Lunch: 5 sugar cookies, 2 gingerbread men and 3 chocolate drops.  Did I have a couple of Christmas cookies this year?  Of course, just not as a meal and not every day.  Is this tracking working for me?  Slowly, but the scale goes down every week, so something must be going right.

Today, I made some not so great food choices; what I thought was a decent breakfast turned out to be a death-trap in disguise.  I logged what I ate and it started back at me in huge bold letters: POOR CHOICE, HEATHER.  My heart beat a little faster, my palms were a little sweaty and I thought about quitting.  Tossing in the towel and saying, "Mother eff it.  I'm done.  Cause that breakfast was delicious!"

But I didn't.

Instead, I looked at the choices that I'd made and thought about what I can do different next time.  And that's key for me; that's a big step.  I didn't focus on what I should have done differently, because I'd already made those choices and I know that I can't go back and undo them.  But I can learn from them and I can make better choices next time.

And then I showed myself a little grace.  We all stumble sometimes.  The question is, are we going to lay in the middle of the road and continue to let cars run over us?  Or are we going to pick ourselves up, brush off the dust and continue forward?  I chose to move forward 4 miles with Finn in the stroller and by the time I got back home, I'd forgiven myself an indulgent morning and vowed to do better at dinner.

With that in mind, I really only have 3 New Year's Resolutions for 2012:

1. Make good choices, be it food, exercise, or words; but be kind to myself if I teeter a little (as I surely will). 
2. Loose weight.  Not necessarily to get to a magic number, although I do have one, but more to get to a magic feeling.
3. Run a 5k.

Do you make New Years Resolutions?  I'd love to hear what your goals are for the coming year.

Here's to tomorrow...a new day to start fresh.  

Around Thanksgiving, as I was bitching about being fat, being out of breath, having flabby arms and a jiggly bum, too many chins and obese earlobes - and probably making a batch Extra Chocolaty Chocolate Chip Cookies while I was doing it - Uriah finally got fed up and told me to "shit or get off the pot."  We have an open relationship like that, so I didn't throw the mixing bowl of cookie dough at his head and run into another room crying.  Instead, I listened to what he had to say, and if we're being honest, what he'd been saying for awhile: I could either do something about my weight or I could just shut-up about it.  Because talking, talking, talking - and I'm very good at talking - was getting me nowhere.

I find it sort of amusing that I use pictures to track how big Finn is getting because I don't really realize how much he changes until I put two pictures side by side.  The same could be said of me - I didn't realize how big I was getting until I put two pictures side by side.  Some day, I'll show you a picture of me right before we moved from Kansas City, when I was at my heaviest, and a current picture.  When I work up the nerve.  It's not pretty and it's causing me to dig deeper into why I eat.  I can't blame my weight on being "big boned" or being "ill-proportioned."  There are clearly other reasons.  So when we came back from Thanksgiving I started to control my portions, I eat off of a small plate whenever possible, I eat more salads and most importantly,  I track what I eat.  Every. Single. Thing.  And let me tell you, all those Christmas cookies that I baked did not get eaten by me because I didn't want to write down: Lunch: 5 sugar cookies, 2 gingerbread men and 3 chocolate drops.  Did I have a couple of Christmas cookies this year?  Of course, just not as a meal and not every day.  Is this tracking working for me?  Slowly, but the scale goes down every week, so something must be going right.

Today, I made some not so great food choices; what I thought was a decent breakfast turned out to be a death-trap in disguise.  I logged what I ate and it started back at me in huge bold letters: POOR CHOICE, HEATHER.  My heart beat a little faster, my palms were a little sweaty and I thought about quitting.  Tossing in the towel and saying, "Mother eff it.  I'm done.  Cause that breakfast was delicious!"

But I didn't.

Instead, I looked at the choices that I'd made and thought about what I can do different next time.  And that's key for me; that's a big step.  I didn't focus on what I should have done differently, because I'd already made those choices and I know that I can't go back and undo them.  But I can learn from them and I can make better choices next time.

And then I showed myself a little grace.  We all stumble sometimes.  The question is, are we going to lay in the middle of the road and continue to let cars run over us?  Or are we going to pick ourselves up, brush off the dust and continue forward?  I chose to move forward 4 miles with Finn in the stroller and by the time I got back home, I'd forgiven myself an indulgent morning and vowed to do better at dinner.

With that in mind, I really only have 3 New Year's Resolutions for 2012:

1. Make good choices, be it food, exercise, or words; but be kind to myself if I teeter a little (as I surely will). 
2. Loose weight.  Not necessarily to get to a magic number, although I do have one, but more to get to a magic feeling.
3. Run a 5k.

Do you make New Years Resolutions?  I'd love to hear what your goals are for the coming year.

Here's to tomorrow...a new day to start fresh.  

Dear Pinterest Commentator,

Thank you for sharing your opinion - "thats disgusting.  please stop ruining the world for our daughters." on my pinboard (pin pictured right.).  While I appreciate the fact that you are standing up for "our daughters," maybe you should worry more about how you're raising your own daughter and less about how I'm raising mine.

This quote is to motivate ME. This is not a quote that I would put on a post-it note on my daughter's bathroom mirror in the morning to motivate HER. I will not motivate her to be skinny.  I will, however, motivate her to be healthy. I will motivate her to be confident in herself, to accept that she has flaws, but then don't we all? I will motivate her to work with those flaws and not let them define her, but rather, enhance her. I will motivate her to enjoy running outside, to love chasing a volleyball, and to laugh when riding a bike as much as I will motivate her to read books, to study science, and to do well on her math tests.

I can't shield her from everything and I can't mother everyone else's daughters. I can only give her the tools to stand up for herself and also, I hope, to stand up for others. I can tell her that not all girls are pretty on the inside and to be careful when choosing a friend, but that sometimes you have to learn those hard lessons on your own. And I will be there to listen to her when someone else's daughter tells her that her voice is squeaky or her cheeks are too round or her hair is stringy or that she's too slow and too short to play volleyball. I will be there to motivate her to look past the mean things that someone else's daughter spewed in her direction. I will empower her to rise above and, in the face of meanness, offer kindness instead. I will teach her that doing the right thing is not always the easy thing. I will tell her that it's okay to fall down seven times as long as she stands up eight.

So, thank you for bringing to my attention that some mothers are not really very good at mothering. I am not one of them.

As for me, I am motivated when I read this quote. I realize that healthy and skinny are not always synonymous.  I realize that I will not ever be considered skinny; I would like to be considered healthy, though.  So, when I read this quote, I am motivated to rise above the ice cream craving or the potato chips in the pantry.  I am motivated to take off another 25 pounds and 25 more after that.  I lived a hard decade and I grew a human and it's evident in my waist line and my hips and my bum. Does wanting to get rid of that excess make me a bad person?  I don't think so.  I think proves that I'd like to be around to protect my children from the world, to pick them up when they fall, to motivate them to be more than they thought they could be and remind them that they are prefect just as they are. I can't do that for very long if I stay the weight I am, my life expectancy will not allow it. I can do it as a healthy person.

I will do it as a healthy person.  And I will motivate myself as I see fit.

Sincerely,

Heather.

Thank you for sharing your opinion - "thats disgusting.  please stop ruining the world for our daughters." on my pinboard (pin pictured right.).  While I appreciate the fact that you are standing up for "our daughters," maybe you should worry more about how you're raising your own daughter and less about how I'm raising mine.

This quote is to motivate ME. This is not a quote that I would put on a post-it note on my daughter's bathroom mirror in the morning to motivate HER. I will not motivate her to be skinny.  I will, however, motivate her to be healthy. I will motivate her to be confident in herself, to accept that she has flaws, but then don't we all? I will motivate her to work with those flaws and not let them define her, but rather, enhance her. I will motivate her to enjoy running outside, to love chasing a volleyball, and to laugh when riding a bike as much as I will motivate her to read books, to study science, and to do well on her math tests.

I can't shield her from everything and I can't mother everyone else's daughters. I can only give her the tools to stand up for herself and also, I hope, to stand up for others. I can tell her that not all girls are pretty on the inside and to be careful when choosing a friend, but that sometimes you have to learn those hard lessons on your own. And I will be there to listen to her when someone else's daughter tells her that her voice is squeaky or her cheeks are too round or her hair is stringy or that she's too slow and too short to play volleyball. I will be there to motivate her to look past the mean things that someone else's daughter spewed in her direction. I will empower her to rise above and, in the face of meanness, offer kindness instead. I will teach her that doing the right thing is not always the easy thing. I will tell her that it's okay to fall down seven times as long as she stands up eight.

So, thank you for bringing to my attention that some mothers are not really very good at mothering. I am not one of them.

As for me, I am motivated when I read this quote. I realize that healthy and skinny are not always synonymous.  I realize that I will not ever be considered skinny; I would like to be considered healthy, though.  So, when I read this quote, I am motivated to rise above the ice cream craving or the potato chips in the pantry.  I am motivated to take off another 25 pounds and 25 more after that.  I lived a hard decade and I grew a human and it's evident in my waist line and my hips and my bum. Does wanting to get rid of that excess make me a bad person?  I don't think so.  I think proves that I'd like to be around to protect my children from the world, to pick them up when they fall, to motivate them to be more than they thought they could be and remind them that they are prefect just as they are. I can't do that for very long if I stay the weight I am, my life expectancy will not allow it. I can do it as a healthy person.

I will do it as a healthy person.  And I will motivate myself as I see fit.

Sincerely,

Heather.