The High Cost of Blissful Ignorance

I watch the Daily Show pretty religiously, but Brian and I DVR it and then catch up when we have free time at night. Since we've started working out together at night, we don't have a lot of free time. I did, however, catch a recent episode that featured Michael Moss. Moss is an author of the book, Salt, Sugar, Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us. 

I have been pretty public about my ongoing struggle with my weight. I started overeating as a kid. I have belonged to groups for people trying to recover from food obsessions. I know that talking about food addiction is not a popular thing, but I have posited for years that it has been exactly that for me.

I am especially vulnerable to sugar. It is tough for me, once I have even one bite of something sweet, to stop eating it. I remember sneaking Zingers, a Dolly Madison treat, when I was a kid. My mom used them as treats in her classroom and we weren't supposed to eat them. The allure of chocolate and cream was too much and I took to sneaking one at a time. One day in particular, I took two of them. I started eating them and then realized my mom was home. In order to escape detection, I stuffed them both in my mouth and promptly started choking.

My mom found me eating them and had to administer the Heimlich. Years later, having struggled with addictions that are more commonly recognized, I can tell you the behavior was the same. I was being secretive because I knew I was doing wrong. I was more interested in engaging in the dangerous behavior than in setting it aside for a time when I could do it undetected.

In college, I would go to Jewel, buy the value packs of chocolate chip cookies and eat it by myself in an entire setting. I would swear to myself, as I lay in bed feeling bloated and hungover from the sugar, that tomorrow would be different. I would eat nothing but salad, I would walk nonstop for three hours, I would never look at a cookie again.

Tomorrow would come and my brain would scream for only one thing; more cookies. No matter how hard I tried, the allure, the taste, the smell of sugary treats would get me every time.

I know that most people see weight loss as a matter of having willpower. The problem is that with most addictions, the prescription is to be abstinent. You cannot abstain from food all together. Food must be consumed in order to sustain life.

The book is a searing expose on the food companies attempt to get the most possible dollars from consumers. The science is actually the most interesting part of the book. Food companies spend a lot of time and money trying to figure out how consumer's brains work. The findings are quite grotesque. Sugar mimics the effect of cocaine; fat the effect of opiates.

Upon reading it, there was some sense of relief for me. I am not crazy, after all. Yes, I have to accept responsibility for making healthy choices. At the same time, I have the deck decidedly stacked against me. Sugar is in almost every food I see in the supermarket. I can't avoid all sugar, although I am finding out ways of being smart about it.

I know, after years of being a responsible consumer, that fat-free and light are not really healthier choices. I know, based on watching different documentaries, that food companies shuffle sugar, salt and fat around in food items to eliminate whatever the "bad" item of the day is.

To illustrate my point, while at the grocery store today, I checked out the ranch dressing. I compared the full-fat version to the fat-free dressing (which tastes like shit). The fat-free version had more sodium and more sugar than the full-fat version. You are doing away with "bad" fat, but you are then adding more other bad things (sugar and sodium) in.

Bread and spaghetti sauce are big sugar offenders. Out of curiosity, I picked a random spaghetti sauce jar and peeked at the label-there were 10 grams of sugar for one serving of sauce. To put it in perspective, on average there are 2.7 grams of sugar in a serving of peanut butter.

Several years ago, I tried to cut out refined sugar. It is a lofty goal but I found in practice it was nearly impossible. There is sugar in nearly every consumable item in the grocery store. This book has affirmed that for me. Sugar is cheap, easy to obtain, adds bulk to food, makes baked goods fluffier, makes food more shelf-stable, the list goes on and on. For food companies, sugar is indispensable. It is ubiquitous. The alternative is not sugar-free, either. There are so many chemicals necessary to mimic sugar that the food tastes awful and has a little-known side effect--diarrhea.

I am also learning that I'm fighting an uphill battle with my kids and their sugar intake. Kids have a preference for sugar--we all do (we have it at birth). The difference is that kids want things that are, on average, twice as sweet as the things we want. I am grateful that my kids don't eat breakfast cereal because it's the number one offender when it comes to sugar load.

This all makes me grateful that I made the commitment to make my family's bread products from scratch at home and use freshly-ground flour. It doesn't eliminate sugar (especially if I'm making baked goods), but it does add in nutrients that are missing from any commercially produced bread products. I use honey to make my bread. It's still sweet but not nearly as sweet as white sugar. It is also broken down differently in the body than white sugar and has other wonderful properties.

I work hard to limit my kids consumption of juice, junk food (even things like fruit snacks with are not made with anything resembling fruit), chips, sweets, etc. Their special treat when we go shopping is a donut. They have come to understand (because I have drilled it home) that donuts are a sometimes food. I have tried to instill the mantra "we need to eat a wide variety of (lightly processed) foods." It was a line I read in a marathon training book penned by Hal Higdon years ago. But it remains true, especially when I'm not training for a marathon.

I am grateful for my kids taste preferences, honestly. They do a better than fair job of eating fruits and veggies (except for Doug, who is averse to anything green and leafy). They eschew sweetened juice drinks for watered down apple juice. They understand that we cannot eat an entire chocolate cake in one day, that mommy only bakes once in a great while, that we have to eat healthy food before we have a treat.

It's refreshing to know that the battle I'm fighting with them, about eating healthy, about saying no to sweets, is hardwired and is being exploited. That relieves me, to some extent, of the worry that I've ruined them because of my bad habits. It also helps assuage my own guilt when I overdo my sugar consumption. I am responsible but the food companies make it nearly impossible not to overdo it.

I am very open with them about my own struggles. I exercise daily and I do so to get healthy. I don't use words like fat, or obese, or ugly or anything like that. I draw attention to the fact that mommy is trying to get healthy, that I'm exercising so my heart is healthy.

I'm still fighting, though, against the sugar. It's a tough fight, one I have to engage on a daily basis. I crave it every day. I stay away from grocery stores and convenience stores, so that the beautiful packaging, the smell, the allure doesn't drive me nuts. I drink plenty of water, I eat a diet that is high in fiber (so I don't feel hungry and therefore more susceptible). It's a fight I've fought before, with modest success.

It's a tougher fight, though, because sugar is so insidious. The enemies I've fought previous were harder to obtain and not mainstream. I get tired in this fight, more so than in the other. This fight is lonelier in some aspects because support groups are few and far between.

Luckily, I have social media on my side. There are a lot of things about social media which aren't great, but this time around, I have found people who root for me when I'm having successes, cheer me on when my spirits are flagging, give me advice and helpful tips and above all partner with me in prayer for strength and courage.

I harness all of that, along with God's power, to give me some serenity. It's a day-to-day fight, but it's one I'm committed to continuing to fight.

My First Anniversary

Greetings and a happy Independence Day to everyone in cyberspace. I hope everyone enjoyed their holiday celebrations. I had a great time in spite of a migraine and accompanying symptoms.

It's been a year since I started this blog. I had high hopes for it. I thought it might generate some income for my family--it hasn't. I thought I would be able to reach people--I have. In all, it's been a great opportunity to archive my life and work out emotions that require more than just a status update.

Last year we took Jeremy and Bekah to see fireworks. They hated them. It was pretty much a disaster. They were terrified by the sounds and spent the entire time with their eyes shut tight and hands over their ears.

This year, we thought we would plan better. Jeremy's diagnosis helped make sense of his reaction to what we felt like was a celebratory event. We figured, we would leave him at my parent's house and take the other two kids to see fireworks. Our thinking that was Bekah might enjoy them on her own, without the power of her brother's suggestions.

Jeremy was going to stay overnight at my parents' house. I was a little nervous about him sleeping away from home but I thought he would enjoy it. He seemed excited by the prospect of it. Bekah seemed excited to go see fireworks. I underestimated the sibling love, though.

Jeremy and Bekah are only 16 months apart. They have always been close. They share a room and when one of them is not around, the other spends most of their time asking when their sibling will return. It's sweet because I know they really enjoy playing with each other. Don't get me wrong, they are like all brothers and sisters. It sometimes turns into an MMA match and quickly at that.

Today I took Bekah to see Despicable Me 2. She has been struggling with me being gone more in the evenings (between working and just having coffee with friends). I figured we needed a little girl time together, alone. When we got home, Jeremy bounded off the couch to greet her. I asked Brian later if he asked about her at all and Brian said he had, regularly.

We did have dinner at my parents' house. The plan was, eat dinner, hang out and then take off, leaving Jeremy there. Thankfully, I've been a parent long enough to know that plans need to be fluid. Upon hearing about the plan, Bekah balked. She didn't want to go see the fireworks. Jeremy also balked. He didn't want to stay at D'da and Bubba's house by himself. Fine, we said. We'll just go home.

My parents suggested driving near to the fireworks and just letting the kids see the lights. The sound is what unnerves them and so we would be able to watch the show but not get freaked out. So we set out toward Woodstock after fueling up. I was still not feeling 100%, but I didn't want my family to miss out.

We debated parking in a few different spots but then decided to drive to the school adjacent to Emricson Park, where the fireworks take place. I figured, correctly, that we wouldn't have time to park and find a place. It was packed. We found the school just after the display started. With nowhere to set out our blanket and spread out, Brian pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex right across from the school. We turned of the interior and exterior lights of the van, put up the windows (at Jeremy's insistence) and watched the show.

Jeremy still had his hands over his ears. He asked us, rather loudly, to shut the windows twice or three times. He couldn't figure out where he should be to watch them. He was concerned about his imaginary friends (apparently they were in another car in the parking lot also observing the show). He comforted Doug (which surprised me, because Doug was not fussing--to which Brian pointed out that he wasn't fussing because Jeremy was comforting him).

It was kind of the craziest fireworks outing I've ever attended. We didn't have to fight the mosquitoes, throngs of people, chase Doug around non-stop or worry about the noise. Someday, I hope my kids and I are able to experience fireworks al fresco. For now, this wasn't a bad way to go.

Father's Day

Just a quick post. I left after getting home from Father's Day dinner to see Man of Steel. Excellent movie, I highly recommend it.

I have been feeling so lonely lately. I know this is quite ridiculous, seeing as I am married to a wonderful man and have three lovely kids. It seems to boggle the mind. But really I've been feeling like I can't give and get enough hugs lately.

Yesterday and today I napped with Doug. I never, ever nap with my kids. I've always had a strict, "you-must-nap-in-your-crib" rule. I can't even remember why I napped with him yesterday, but today I did it because he was so upset. Jeremy and Bekah were headed out to swim in our pool. He saw what was happening and when Brian prevented him from joining them, started to throw a fit.

He has been working with a great speech therapist and we are going to work toward getting him an OT evaluation. He is displaying some of the same behaviors as his big brother. It's tough for him, I think, because he doesn't have very many words. Honestly, very few words. He gets frustrated and bites and hits me. He's also started hitting his brother and sister. (I can honestly forgive the latter because they can be pretty awful to him.)

So when I saw how frustrated he was not being able to join his brother and sister, I carried him upstairs. Mind you, he was kicking and screaming and completely unhappy.

Then we crawled into bed together. He wasn't happy that I didn't allow him to roam free on the bed or in my room. But he quickly realized mommy is a bit stronger and then just started settling down. I never see him fall asleep, so I have never witnessed what happens. It's the cutest thing. He plays with my hair, his hair, points at the fan and babbles to his hands.

Lying next to him, I felt less lonely. I felt connected to someone in an emotional way. I woke up a couple of hours later, before him, feeling overheated. He is quite the little furnace. I now understand why he sleeps without blankets and will never again worry that he is not warm enough at night.

It is blissful to nap with a little person. I remember when the kids were babies and fell asleep on me. There is literally nothing more peaceful than having a tiny human's weight on your chest. There's no better feeling in the world. Sleeping next to Doug had the same effect. I woke up feeling refreshed physically and emotionally.

I can't say I will nap with him every day, but this was pretty good therapy for me. The cheapest I've had in a long time.

Caught Looking

I spend most of my time paying attention to Doug and Jeremy. Between keeping track of them physically, keeping track of their therapy appointments and managing their outbursts, they are on my mind most of the time.

Bekah, however, doesn't require a lot of my time. Lately, I've had to keep more of an eye on her. She has started insisting that she is big and strong enough to carry Doug around. The phrase I say most at my house is "Bekah, put your brother down. Rebekah! Put him down!"

Bekah has one appointment to remember--dance class. We started last year at Summers Academy in Crystal Lake. Her class is named Baby Starrs. They spend the sessions learning tap, jazz and ballet. It's an hour and she loves it.

Her first recital was last year. She did a jazz routine to the song "Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch." It was a jazz routine. By recital time, even I knew the routine. She asked me all the time to play the song for her. She practiced all the time. It was adorable, to have her do the routine at my parent's house, at our house, at the park.

We were all excited about it, but I think Brian was the most excited. He loves having a daughter and absolutely treats her like the princess that she is. For him, the dance recital was the pinnacle of being the daddy with a daughter. He was looking forward to the pink costume, to the flowers, to the frivolity.

And then tragedy struck. His Uncle Rick passed away suddenly. He had been unwell for a while, but we weren't expecting him to pass. Uncle Rick was like a father to Brian. Stacey, Brian's cousin, asked Brian to be a pallbearer. So he made the trek to Michigan to pay his final respects to Rick. He was happy to be present for that event, but he was devastated to miss Bekah's dance recital.

It threw us all for a loop, him not being here. I was able to take Bekah to her friend's house. She was also in the recital and so we got the girls ready together. The lights went down in the auditorium and when Bekah and her classmates came onstage, there were oohs and aahs from everyone in the crowd.

She did great, although there was a spot in the routine where she got distracted by the lights on the back of the stage. It was so cute, though, to see her taking in the whole stage. She was darling and everyone clapped and it was a great time.

This year was a bit different. Bekah only had one other classmate. Actually, for a while there were two other girls but by the beginning of this year it was just Bekah and Bella. They were in the same class at their preschool as well. Bella's mom and I got a chance to know each other better. It was really quite nice to have have semi-private lessons for both the girls.

This year was different in other ways. Kym, the girls' teacher, decided that this year's routine would be a tap routine to the tune "New York, New York." Bekah, who is usually unflappable in dance class, spent a few dance classes being ornery and emotional. I didn't know (and still don't) what was going on. I did my best to console her. We even left early from class one day.

She never asked for me to play her music, to practice, to do the routine in front of anyone. She seemed distracted in class and seemed to struggle to remember her routine.

There was a lot of excitement about her recital this year, but honestly I was worried too. They hold the recital at the Raue Theater in Crystal Lake. It's an actual theater, with a big stage and everything. It's intimidating for me and I've never even performed on a stage before.

Dress rehearsal was a few days ago and they were able to run through the routine a few times. Bekah seemed okay but distracted. I get choked up when I see her go through the routine. I am amazed that at 4 years old she can learn and remember the moves to an entire routine. We're not talking a complicated routine, but still!

Kym kept telling the girls, just keep dancing. Even during class she would tell them to just keep dancing--if they forgot the moves they should just keep moving. The girls did so with varying results. Usually they just looked like deer frozen in the headlights.

Leading up to her recital, I took her to the Cosmetology school in town to get her hair and makeup done. I had muddled through for dress rehearsal, but I wanted her to look professional. After she was done, I sent her to my parent's house so she wouldn't get mussed fighting with her brother. I had to drive Doug to my friend Lisa's house. She had volunteered to watch Doug so we wouldn't have to pay for a ticket for him.

We had talked to Jeremy about the recital. He knew that he was going to have to at least see Bekah. We promised him that after Bekah performed he could leave and play on the iPad. He at first wasn't keen on it at all but grew to be okay with it. We traded Bekah for Jeremy and went to take her to the recital.

We got our programs and found out that she wasn't performing until close to intermission. We weren't sure how Jeremy was going to act but honestly, he was a champ. He did exclaim rather loudly at one point that he thought everyone was going to be bad. It was pretty funny. He kept looking for her to come out on stage. I had butterflies for her; I'm not sure how she felt because I had to leave her backstage with the teachers and other dancers.

And then the time came. Out walked Kym, in the darkness, leading Bekah and Bella to their spots. The lights came up and the music started playing. Bella froze (I found out later she was frustrated by her gloves. They had feathers on them and she was really bothered by them), but Bekah danced.

She was amazing.

She remembered a lot of the dance and what she didn't remember she improvised. The crowd responded by applauding wildly for her. It was one of the best moments parenting Bekah. Ever. She tried, at the appropriate point in the routine, to get Bella to do a kick line with her. Bella couldn't be convinced, so Bekah soldiered on by herself.

She absolutely killed it. I was laughing and crying and clapping and hugging Brian and generally just soaking in one of the happiest moments of my life. Everyone around us was complimenting her. It was so wild to witness this moment in her life. She was unflappable. There was a moment in the routine when I could tell she had forgotten the moves. I don't think anyone else in the room noticed, but she stopped and looked down at her shoes. I knew, then, that she had forgotten what came next. She could have run off the stage but she didn't. She added in a few repeated steps until she could remember what came next. It was unbelievable.

I could barely stay in my seat after that and I still had the rest of the recital to sit through. I sent Brian and Jeremy off after the intermission. They had to go retrieve Doug and get him to bed. I went to visit the ladies' room and I had to stop myself from telling everyone that the little girl who stole the show was my daughter. I wasn't claiming the glory. I simply wanted people to know how proud I was of her.

That wasn't even the coolest part.

Nope, that happened at the end of the show. After the finale everyone came out and took a final bow--all of the classes, one by one, paraded out and took a bow. When Bekah and Bella came out, the applause was thunderous. It was bigger applause than any other class had received. I was a crazy mess, clapping and crying and shouting. I couldn't wait to go retrieve her.

And then, I got her. I immediately told her how proud I was of her. She had been most excited about getting flowers after the show. She's actually been practicing receiving flowers. She's been putting on piano recitals (really, plunking at the keys and singing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star loudly and off-key) at my parent's house. After she's done, she asks that we throw a fake rose at her when she's taking a bow.

Understandably, she was even more aware of and excited for flowers after her actual recital. Brian and I bought her some roses and my parents bought her a big bouquet as well. Weighted down by her bouquets, we started making our way out of the theater. No less than 10 people stopped her to tell her what a great job she did. She smiled and handled it like a pro. I had her say "thank you," but she was too busy beaming from ear to ear.

It didn't stop there. She asked that I take her picture with her flowers, so I did. We walked outside and I took more pictures. We walked to my parent's car and while we were driving home we chatted. She wanted to know why I wasn't sitting in front of her while she danced. I explained to her that I wasn't in the front row but I was in front of her. I told her that I clapped so loud for her, that I was shouting and crying and so proud of her.

I'm crying now, thinking about it. I was giddy for a long time last night. I couldn't stop smiling and loving on her. I gave her a big hug and Jeremy managed to snap a picture of it on my phone. It's an awesome picture because not only was I hugging her but she was clinging to me. It was better than the dancing, better than the applause. It was a girl and her momma loving each other.

I can't take credit for any of it. I was never a performer, I never had "grease paint in my veins," as my dad so aptly put it. This is something I don't understand but I completely respect. I am happy to be able to facilitate the development of this wonderful talent. I am happy to drive her to dance class and get her hair and makeup done. I am happy to help but I can't take any credit. All I can do is cry and clap and act like a fool.

Luckily, it seems like I'm really good at that.

A Day in the Life

Now that Jeremy has a formal diagnosis of Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD), it's become even more interesting to be his mom. I mean to say, it's a good thing but it's also stretching me as a parent. I knew previously that his outbursts and quirks were part of who he is. I knew, underneath that stuff, he has always been a great little guy with a big heart. Now that I know what to call this collection of quirks and outbursts, it's changed things.

For example, we went to the Woodstock Farmer's Market this past Saturday. It's a beautiful Farmer's Market with a lot of different vendors and offerings. In addition, they play music in the square. The music was quite lovely and, in my perception, was not intrusive or loud. But I don't have SPD. We made a pass at the outer ring of vendors and then moved into the actual square (where the music was playing). I thought it would be nice to sit as a family and listen to the music.

Jeremy disagreed.

He let us know that the music was way too loud and he didn't like it. I'm not saying he used these words. In fact, what he did was make a run for the entrance/exit to the square. Before his diagnosis, Brian and I would have made an exasperated sigh, shouted after him and otherwise reacted emotionally. Now I understand that what is, to us, pleasant music is actually deafening to Jeremy. I know he lacks the ability to say, that music is too loud and I don't want to do that. His limbic system gets activated and it's fight or flight (or sometimes both).

So I can't react the same way. I have to make sure he's safe, but then I remind him what his behavioral therapist said, that he can't just run away from us. I let him know that it was okay that he didn't like the music but that he wasn't allowed to go running into the street. I accepted that he was physically uncomfortable with the music but didn't allow him to just take off and be unsafe.

Today, at OT/Speech Therapy, he fell and scraped his knee. It knocked a scab loose and started bleeding pretty heavy. The speech therapist let me know that he wouldn't let her put a band-aid on it. I am aware of his band-aid phobia. I used to spend the time arguing with him about why he needed to put one on. I still think he needed one. (He recently stubbed his toe and his toenail ended up bloody and ugly. I did, in that instance, wrestle him--with Brian's assistance--into a band-aid.) What did I do, though? Used some Kleenex to wipe away the blood. I tried to apply pressure to stop the bleeding but he started freaking out. Rather than getting myself worked up trying to get him to do what I think is right, I managed the symptoms (the blood running down his leg) and his reaction (it's okay to not want a band-aid, but I have to wipe off this blood).

I'm not allowing myself to get as exasperated anymore. That's not to say it isn't exasperating to not be able to put a band-aid on my son's wound. It's extremely exasperating. The problem is, I'm 35 and I've known him for almost 6 years. I am the adult. He just started therapy for a problem that just got diagnosed. I've known him to be like this for almost 6 years. I am wasting energy if I spend more than a couple of minutes arguing the efficacy of a band-aid with him. There is the way the world works and then there's the way it works in Jeremy's head. That's not going to change overnight, but what can change is how I react to it.

I wanted to cry about the band-aid thing. I know it seems like a small thing, wanting to patch up your child, but it's tough to see him suffering when he doesn't need to be. I know that band-aids aren't magical but it would have stopped the bleeding and it would have made his knee look not quite so scary. As it was, I had to explain to a few people why he had a bloody knee. He didn't care, by the way. It didn't bother him a bit.

I say it's stretching me because it's easier to just get exasperated and throw up my hands. It's easier to call him a bit crazy and just walk away. It takes effort to remind him about what he's learning, to brush him 3 times a day, to incorporate new strategies into our routine.

In the end, it's like all other change in my life. The catalyst was pain. I was so tired of not being able to understand what was going on with him. Now I'm starting to and I have to remember that it is going to get different. That's a good thing but it means I have to put in a little extra effort. I may have to go to bed a little sooner, spend more time interacting with him and less time leaving the TV on.

Honestly, though, he's totally worth it.

Lost Month

Greetings to the faithful readers I have! I didn't realize it's been a month since I last wrote. It's been a crazy month. We finally have a diagnosis for Jeremy-Sensory Processing Disorder. In a nutshell, he doesn't process the world in the same way those around him do. He has started occupational therapy and is still doing behavioral/cognitive therapy. We are not sure if he will need to be medicated, but so far he does not.

We just went to have his kindergarten evaluation. It was great for him to see his school, his (probable) classroom, his (probable) locker, etc. We were able to meet some of the staff and we ran into my dad. He is a resource teacher at the school where my kids will be attending. It's extremely reassuring and a huge blessing to have him there. He is Jeremy's anchor and I know for sure my kids will have an extra advocate in their corner.

We found out that we are receiving a waiver for the full-day kindergarten fees. This is a huge blessing and answer to prayer. District 47 (our district) just started full-day kindergarten. We know Jeremy will benefit from it because he loves the structure. I am no longer capable of providing enough structure for him at home. (We've only been on summer break for two weeks and it's wearing on him that we don't have a schedule. In turn, it wears on me.) The roadblock was the cost--$135 a month. We are in such a precarious financial position that it might have taken us over the edge. Now that we don't have to worry about that cost, we are able to breathe a sigh of relief.

I started a new business venture. I am a demonstrator for The Grain Pantry. I go into people's homes and bake for them. In doing so, I show them how easy it is to integrate whole grains into their family's diet. It's been revolutionary in our family's home, that's for sure. I've already sold some machines and have some more parties booked. I love it because it's really not about selling the machines, it's about educating people. I'm already out of my comfort zone and I've been doing this for less than a month. This is good because I am being stretched but it's bad because I'm being stretched. It's stressing me out a bit but I know that God has my back. I really feel led by Him to do this and so I know that He's going to take care of me. I'm just making sure to do the footwork.

I am down about 15 pounds since the beginning of the year. It is painful how slow it's going, but I am trying very hard to stick with it. This week, I have ramped up my cardio workouts. I'm trying to add a short workout into my morning and then also do a longer workout in the afternoon. So far, the kids have been mostly cooperative. The scale's not budging, but I know I'm doing the right things and sometimes it just takes time.

Summer hasn't been so kind to us lately! I was really hoping I could send the kids outside to play in the backyard more, but the weather hasn't been conducive. I am hopeful that it will start to warm up a bit and I will be able to let them out more. In the meantime, I am grateful that we won't have astronomical electric bills this year.

I am going to do better this month than last at sitting and writing. Between the stress of launching my business, dealing with Jeremy and my ongoing battle with depression, it's been tough to do more than just put one foot in front of the other. I'm feeling like this will help me process those things. Let's see if I can be consistent.

Business as Unusual

I am happy to report that I made it to May in one piece. I did find an Occupational Therapy office that takes our insurance. They are working to find Jeremy an appointment for an evaluation. We are headed to see his psychotherapist tomorrow, so I'm hopeful that we can get some answers from her as well.

We went to an AWANA awards night tonight and were the "spectacle" family. If you've ever regularly attended a house of worship, I think you know what I'm talking about. It's the family that most resembles a three-ring circus. Usually one of the children is on the floor, another could be racing about the sanctuary and yet another could be doing both at the same time.

Poor Bekah decided to join another family and I found her, after wrangling my two boys, sitting quietly (I think honestly not wishing to be seen or associated with us) with another dad, his daughter and an AWANA leader. She walked right in and immediately joined in the worship, standing right in the front row. I bounced Doug around, trying not to let him play with the knobs controlling the ceiling fans in the sanctuary.

Doug was fine as long as I was singing and bouncing him. After the music ended, it was a different story. He kept rushing the stage and so I looked like a fool running after him (repeatedly). Meanwhile, Jeremy and Brian were nowhere to be found. I discovered later than when we walked in and there was music playing, Jeremy balked and walked right back outside. Brian was able to have compassion for the guy because we do feel as if there is a sensory issue present. Luckily, in the chaos of me trying to find Brian and Jeremy, Bekah found someone else to sit with.

We spent the rest of the time trying to keep Doug occupied, Jeremy sitting on his butt and everyone relatively quiet. It was interesting, to say the least. (And Jeremy was incredibly flatulent through the entire program. I stopped making him excuse himself because it was happening so regularly.)

What a mess. We enjoyed some ice cream afterwards and then tried to make a quick and stealthy exit. I will say we mostly succeeded, which is quite a feat in and of itself.

Now everyone is asleep (they wore themselves out performing in the circus) and I'm wide awake.

I made a decision last Friday and am getting ready to take the next right step. I'm a bit terrified and so my anxiety is too high to allow sleep to happen.

I am going into business for myself. I have searched high and wide for a home-based business that really fit me. I considered Tupperware, Pampered Chef, Scentsy, Thirty-One and Arbonne. I have nothing against any of those companies. I know several women who are or have been consultants for all of those businesses. I think they all have a model of business that works well in generating income for the seller and adding value for the buyer. Even more, I know that some of those companies are really socially responsible both in how they manufacture their goods and in how they help the environment.

The problem was, I couldn't get passionate about selling any of those things. I know that each company has a different quota, compensation structure, awards structure, etc. The idea of making $20K a year seems great, but honestly I have a 5, 4 and 1 year old. I may have 20 hours a week to market myself but honestly, I want to spend as many of those as possible catching some sleep.

I also don't want to be the friend whose calls you avoid, or the friend whose every Facebook status update is about placing an order for product. I have some natural sales abilities but the hard-sell is not my style. I don't want to lose friends and alienate people just to make a buck.

In the end, I knew if I was going to sell something it had to be something about which I was passionate, something I used regularly and something that actually adds value to people's lives. I spent a lot of time agonizing over two companies. I met with two women separately to pick apart the different company's business plans, compensation models, awards structure, start-up costs, etc.

The first person I met with was great. She has a lot of enthusiasm for her company. It's a great company that makes awesome products, I'm not going to lie. The products are consumables which is great from a commission standpoint. It's a company that's been around for 30 years, they have a great track record both here and abroad, everything is legit and above board. If I worked hard enough, I could end up driving a Mercedes. Like most home-based businesses, this one encourages you to "bring other people on board." That increases your commission and earning potential.

I still can't say I found any flaws in this company. I honestly do believe in the products and would love to work with this friend. But I spent the week after meeting with her in complete anxiety. Well, to be truthfrul I vacillated between imagining myself driving a Mercedes and imagining myself becoming persona non grata at all future human gatherings.

Then I met with my friend Kim. I met her in October when she was demonstrating the Nutrimill Multi-Grain Grinder and Bosch Mixer. She used the mill to turn wheat berries into wheat flour, baked a batch of (true) whole-wheat bread and I was hooked. Not too long after, I had her over to my home to do a demonstration. I have been making our bread products from scratch since late November. Twice a week I make 5 loaves of bread (sometimes 4 loaves and a pizza crust) from scratch. I have gotten fairly proficient at it and I can usually be done in an hour and a half.

When I met Kim, the company she worked for was not set up to have a sales force in the way Tupperware or Arbonne is. There were a few women around the country (mostly in their fifties) who had owned and been selling machines, but there was not an infrastructure for a full-fledged sales force. Between then and now, though, I remembered seeing a post from Kim that they were now looking to add salespeople.

So I met with her. Through the whole process, I prayed like crazy. I've experienced enough to know that if I take one step outside of what God's will is for me, I'm going to fall flat on my face. I asked for wisdom and discernment as I met with my other friend and Kim. I tried to look past the Mercedes of it all and make an honest evaluation of myself, my abilities and my capabilities.

I walked away from my meeting with Kim knowing I should be selling mixers and mills. She is so laid-back and this program is so laid-back. The quota is low enough that I'd have to basically not be breathing to not make it. I have to sell one mixer and one mill a year and bam! I've made my quota. She has four kids, a little older than mine but still in grade school. She is not interested in living and breathing her business. She doesn't have a crazy marketing plan, isn't hard-driving or overbearing. She's been a quiet, positive force in my life over the past several months. I have given her the opportunity to sell me expensive equipment and she has steered me to the right purchase, not the most expensive one. All of this appeals to me. I want to bring in extra income but not to the detriment of my family. I don't want to be spending every night away from home and I don't want to neglect other obligations in order to chase money.

I left her house feeling peace and being excited about the possibility of it all.

At the same time, I am human and have spent the last week alternately plagued by anxiety and arrogance. One minute, I'm going to be the company's top seller ever. I was wide awake at 330 AM on Saturday morning, making a business plan for myself and trying to identify potential buyers. Tonight, I'm wide awake because I don't think anyone is going to want to invite me into their home. I can't imagine that anyone is going to want to listen to what I have to say. I'm convinced that I am going to become persona non grata among all humans because I'll talk too much about it.

Ah, to live in the gray. It would be lovely to live in a place where I just live in the now. I haven't even officially launched my business yet (the paperwork is lying on my nightstand--I am stressed because I have to name it something and I'm afraid I'm going to pick something awful). I should be concerned with completing the paperwork and submitting it. Once that's done, I need to be concerned with following the steps in the business kit they're going to send me. After that, I need to pray and then be bold enough to ask people to invite me into their home. And so on and so forth....

I learned a long time ago about doing the next right thing, about not projecting, about not obsessing about the future. It's been reinforced in so many ways, and yet I'm still putting the cart before the horse. I need to put on blinders, grab God's hand and just start walking. He's yet to lead me wrong and I don't think He's about to start.