I have been so busy lately, but wanted to write a little bit about intermittent fasting. I have been doing it regularly for three weeks. I do not say this lightly, it has TRANSFORMED the arc of my weight loss journey, it has helped me feel better and given me freedom.
Fasting is biblical, for those of you who are into that stuff. It’s something we are admonished to do. People in the Bible did it when they were seeking God’s wisdom about different situations. I have fasted before, but it’s never been with any kind of purpose or focus.
Meanwhile, the stark truth is that in general, humans eat too much. Specifically, we eat too much food that is heavily processed and stripped of important nutrients. When we eat food that our bodies were not designed to eat, it short-circuits the wiring in our brain. It makes it difficult for our brain to receive and interpret signals. Frequently, we *feel* hungry when we are, in fact, thirsty. We eat when we are bored or happy or sad. Food has ceased being what it was designed to be—fuel for our bodies.
So, then, what is intermittent fasting? According to Nerd Fitness, “intermittent fasting is not a diet, but rather an eating pattern.” It’s not about going all day denying yourself all the food. I do not follow a set calorie plan per day. At the beginning of the week, I set a protocol. Big word for eating plan. I decide what I’m going to eat everyday. I include snacks. (Snacks during the fasting period should be 50 calories or fewer.) If I am not hungry, I don’t eat my snack.
The next question is, how much do I eat? I aim to eat when I am kind of hungry, kind of not. I aim to stop eating when my stomach feels comfortable.
I know. Not much of an answer. Honestly, it took me a little time to figure this out. I don’t do it perfectly at every meal. I have had a couple of meals where I have ended up eating too much. I aim for progress, not perfection.
Okay, so then what? I have two meals a day and I eat well at both those meals. Here is what my day typically looks like:
7-8 AM wake up
7:30 AM drink 8-12 ounces of warm lemon water
8:00 AM Slim
11:00-Noon Coffee with 2 tablespoons of whole milk
2:00-2:30 Salad—romaine lettuce, cherry tomatoes, 1/2 an avocado, cheese, red bell peppers, chick peas
3-4 Slim
6-8 Dinner—(as a for example) chicken breast, 1/2 sweet potato, veggies
I can tell you, I do not walk around hungry. I typically have far less food than I used to eat. I have had to downgrade to half a sweet potato because I was throwing most of my potato out.
Now. I sometimes have one serving of dark chocolate, but I plan that as well. I have eliminated sugar and flour from my diet. I honestly don’t miss it.
I do use other Plexus supplements. I haven’t listed them because they don’t add to my caloric load.
I will also say, I haven’t felt tempted to eat sugar, even when I’ve been around it. That has never happened before.
Thursday, September 28, 2017
Monday, September 18, 2017
I'm So Tired.
I feel like I have been going nonstop for two weeks. Saturday was the pinnacle of this busyness--I spent almost all day shuttling one or two or more children from activity to activity. It was stressful but fulfilling.
So one of the things I'm working on right now is not using food to buffer my feelings. (Buffer meaning avoid/escape/postpone dealing with.) It's not a brand-new practice for me, though it's been a long time since I've tried to process my emotions before sticking food in my mouth.
Today was a stressful day for me. I don't know if it was because it was Monday or because it was a busy weekend. I snapped at the kids as I worked to make lunches. I had a good walk with a friend, but then I feel like I had no patience for Brooklyn. All in all, I was just irritable.
This is life. It happens. Even if I'm eating 100% clean and sticking to my protocol, life is going to happen. Part of having a protocol is to make decisions about what to eat before I'm hungry. I am much more inclined to make healthy food choices when I am not starving.
My goal this week is to go from 270.2 to 265. This is a very manageable goal, but for whatever reason, I'm stuck on the idea that I won't lose any weight this week. I am trying hard to not let that thought manifest negatively in my life. I am praying and doing the things I need to do.
Bekah has caught on to the fact that I'm losing weight, even though I'm fairly certain I didn't even mention that I was trying to lose weight. I work so hard not to disparage myself in front of her, but somehow she knows.
She wanted to take pictures of me, so I let her. It's tough, because I see some definite transformation, but of course not as dramatic as I wanted it.
One way I'm combatting this kind of negative thinking is to list the non-scale goals I've had over the past few days. First, I had nothing sweet at Bunco on Saturday. This was huge. And I didn't get home from Bunco and fill my face with any food, either. I had one plate of food (that I didn't finish, this is starting to be a thing) and plenty of water. Other than that, nothing.
Second, I'm getting to small for my britches. That's kind of scale-related, but separate. I now own no pants that fit me well--either they are way too big or just a smidgen too small. I'm hoping by the end of October to be able to wear a pair of jeans I've not worn since spring of 2015.
Third, I am not angry or resentful about food. I am not silently cursing the plate of sweets for "calling" to me. I didn't feel one bit tempted by the Klondike bars my brother bought for my kiddos.
Lastly, I went shopping in my closet. I wore a shirt that I've not been able to wear for at least two years. This is huge!
My eyes are droopy and I have so much more I want to write, but it will have to wait.
So one of the things I'm working on right now is not using food to buffer my feelings. (Buffer meaning avoid/escape/postpone dealing with.) It's not a brand-new practice for me, though it's been a long time since I've tried to process my emotions before sticking food in my mouth.
Today was a stressful day for me. I don't know if it was because it was Monday or because it was a busy weekend. I snapped at the kids as I worked to make lunches. I had a good walk with a friend, but then I feel like I had no patience for Brooklyn. All in all, I was just irritable.
This is life. It happens. Even if I'm eating 100% clean and sticking to my protocol, life is going to happen. Part of having a protocol is to make decisions about what to eat before I'm hungry. I am much more inclined to make healthy food choices when I am not starving.
My goal this week is to go from 270.2 to 265. This is a very manageable goal, but for whatever reason, I'm stuck on the idea that I won't lose any weight this week. I am trying hard to not let that thought manifest negatively in my life. I am praying and doing the things I need to do.
Bekah has caught on to the fact that I'm losing weight, even though I'm fairly certain I didn't even mention that I was trying to lose weight. I work so hard not to disparage myself in front of her, but somehow she knows.
She wanted to take pictures of me, so I let her. It's tough, because I see some definite transformation, but of course not as dramatic as I wanted it.
One way I'm combatting this kind of negative thinking is to list the non-scale goals I've had over the past few days. First, I had nothing sweet at Bunco on Saturday. This was huge. And I didn't get home from Bunco and fill my face with any food, either. I had one plate of food (that I didn't finish, this is starting to be a thing) and plenty of water. Other than that, nothing.
Second, I'm getting to small for my britches. That's kind of scale-related, but separate. I now own no pants that fit me well--either they are way too big or just a smidgen too small. I'm hoping by the end of October to be able to wear a pair of jeans I've not worn since spring of 2015.
Third, I am not angry or resentful about food. I am not silently cursing the plate of sweets for "calling" to me. I didn't feel one bit tempted by the Klondike bars my brother bought for my kiddos.
Lastly, I went shopping in my closet. I wore a shirt that I've not been able to wear for at least two years. This is huge!
My eyes are droopy and I have so much more I want to write, but it will have to wait.
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
Sue and -ish, A Love Story
Last night I couldn't come up with anything to write. Of course tonight, when I am dying to write something, I can't get to the computer fast enough. Go figure.
I've been talking in broad terms about this new protocol I'm following. I haven't been wanting to label it because it's going well and I don't want anyone to rain on my parade. I don't even really think it has a specific name, but if I were forced to give it a name, I would call it Paleo-ish.
I'm very fond of the -ish because I feel like it's the English language's way of shrugging it's shoulders and throwing up it's hands. It's the equivalent of wiggling your hand back and forth with your palm parallel to the floor.
I'm a very all-or-nothing kind of person, so I tend to struggle with most eating plans. I've never done well giving up food groups or food types. Ultimately, I find myself covered in Ding Dong wrappers with a massive headache.
I like food. I like food that has flavor. I don't want to eat exactly the same thing every day.
My problem with counting calories is I also want to count my exercise and then eat my exercise. As so many trainers and doctors say, it's all about expending more calories than you're eating. Which is true, but has never really translated to a decent amount of weight loss for me. I think there are people for whom it works well, and I am glad for them. It just turns into this game I play about how much I can or can't eat at any given meal. I spend a lot of time angry and hating MyFitnessPal, and really, what did the app ever do to me?
Meanwhile, I've been taught in church basements that goes like this, "There is a principle which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments, and which cannot fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance--that principle is contempt prior to investigation."
I have been guilty of that in several instances. It has usually not worked out well for me. I have learned that it is best for me to keep an open mind. That's not to say that when people make suggestions I don't internally roll my eyes, but I need to be willing to listen and give people the benefit of the doubt.
So a couple of weeks ago, when my friend Kristin reached out to me and asked if I was willing to follow her suggestions, I said yes. I didn't even know what I was agreeing to, but I had an open mind. I decided that my best thinking has gotten me here. Why don't I, one more time, listen to someone who has more wisdom than I?
As she laid out her suggested plan, I was both excited and skeptical. It seemed sound. I had heard a lot of evidence (before talking to Kristin) that seemed to match what Kristin was saying. I have been trying for years to back away from processed foods and try to eat foods in their natural state.
The skepticism came as she laid out for me *when* and *how* she wanted me to eat.
She suggested that I skip breakfast. The breakfast I had been eating (yogurt and homemade granola) was full of a lot of sugar. She suggested instead that I dine in on my own fat reserves. (Insert eye roll here.)
For lunch, a salad with some protein and lots of veggies. Skip the fruit (except for apples on occasion). This tracked with what the diabetic counselor had told Brian--even the natural sugar will spike blood sugar. Even though I have not been formally diagnosed with Type II diabetes, I'm right on the border, so I'd been following Brian's suggested plan, modified for a woman. (This just means I get fewer carbs at meals.)
For dinner, lean protein, veggies, a sweet potato or couscous.
So it's Paleo-ish. Not really Paleo because they say no dairy. I do a small amount of dairy, but not a lot. The list of things on my protocol is slightly more generous than the list of foods that are Paleo-approved, hence the ish.
I will tell you, for years I have railed (mostly silently) against Paleo. In my mind, for whatever reason, I equated it with Atkins. I didn't think you could have a sustainable eating plan where so many things were not included.
So here's the other component. Emotions. Because let's face it, I am a person with a lot of emotions and I tend to eat when any of those emotions run over. So when I get hangry or down or whatever, I have to stop and write about it. There is a whole model. Kristin's coach, Brooke Castillo, has a book. It's good. I am going to be reading it. But in any case, I am not using food to buffer my emotions. If I am feeling sad, I need to sit with that feeling. If I'm pissed off because I've had a fight with Brian, the solution to the feeling is not food.
For me, the solution is God. And here's where this dovetails nicely with Lysa Terkeurst's book that I mentioned the other day. God wants to be our solution. He wants us to come to him with everything. He promises us that anything we seek to be higher than him, we will find lacking.
As someone who has spent years putting other things above God, I can tell you that's true.
So then the last piece. Once dinner is over, the kitchen is closed. No nighttime snack. I will tell you, I have been finding myself having a single serving of dark chocolate on some evenings. I am not sure yet how I feel about that and how it fits into what I'm trying to do. I will report more on that as it unfolds. But the big thing for me is, once dinner is done, I'm done until lunch the next day.
Here again, I've been having a mid-morning cup of coffee with a very, very small amount of cream in it. I might find in a few weeks that it's no longer serving me. I don't know. For now, it helps a bit.
I weigh in on Friday morning, but as of last Friday, after only 5 days of following Kristin's suggestions, I lost 7 pounds.
Bigger than that, though, is I do not feel like I'm starving. I don't feel deprived. I start eating when my hunger is -2 and I stop when I am at +2. (-10 is I'm ready to start eating my own foot, +10 is I'm so full I'm going to puke.) I feel like I am still learning this scale. I am not used to eating when I start to feel full. It's tricky. It's made me slow down when I eat. I drink a LOT of water. I have a 32 ounce water bottle from Contigo and I drink at least 48 ounces of water during dinner. (Same for lunch.) I drink a lot of water between meals. A lot. No, like a whole bunch.
What's most tremendous for me is that I do not, not one little bit, feel like I'm depriving myself. I don't feel like I'm pining after things. I have started thinking about a piece or two of pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving, but I have time to work through that.
Have I followed my own protocol 100%? Nope. Right now, I have peace about that. I don't feel like this plan is stringent. I don't want to beat myself up for not walking as much as I wanted to in a given day. I want peace. I want peace about food in the worst way, and I can tell you that this plan, so far, is giving me lots of peace.
I've been trying to figure out how to modify recipes to be more Paleo while also not trying to insist that everyone in the house eat like me. What follows is a modification of a recipe I found Googling "ground beef paleo recipes." It was for beef stroganoff, but it called for cubed meat, which I didn't have, and suggested using a cast iron skillet, which I have but can't figure out how to use.
This is the recipe, it's still beef stroganoff, just with ground beef and turkey. I should have taken pictures of it before we ate, but I didn't have the presence of mind.
Ingredients:
1 lb. lean ground beef (I use Costco's grass fed/organic beef)
1 lb. ground turkey (also Costco)
8 oz. mushrooms, sliced
4-5 garlic cloves, minced
1 small onion, chopped
1/4 c. dry white wine
1 c. coconut milk
1 c. beef broth
2-4 tbsp. light sour cream
Directions:
1. Heat a skillet, toss some butter in the skillet (I can't remember how much I used, maybe 2-3 tablespoons). Throw in the mushrooms, let them cook until they start to shrink (not scientific or precise, forgive me, this is the first time I've ever written a recipe. Remove the mushrooms, set aside.
2. Pour some olive oil (just a dollop will do ya) into the skillet. Add the garlic and onion. Cook until the onion is translucent.
3. Add the white wine and let the alcohol cook off.
4. Add the ground beef and turkey. Sprinkle with a fair amount of salt and freshly ground pepper (also Costco). Drain any fat you can.
5. Once the meat is browned evenly, add the coconut milk, beef broth and (if you want) the sour cream. Let it come to a boil, then simmer for about 10 minutes.
I ate this with a sweet potato--I prepared egg noodles for Brian. It's up to you. I know they probably make a Paleo-acceptable egg noodle, but I was happy with just the meat and sweet potato. I finished up my salad from lunch and Brian had some veggies from the veggie platter (also Costco).
From start to finish, the meal took me about 30ish minutes to prepare. It had a great flavor to it and Brian and I enjoyed it--Brooklyn, too, though Bekah was offended that there were mushrooms and the boys don't like their food to be so mixed up.
So there you have it! My first ever (mostly) made-up recipe! I was getting really tired of burgers, tacos and meatloaf, I'm not going to lie. I bought some beans today and am going to bust out the Crock Pot for some chili on Sunday or Monday.
I may be hating all of this in six months, but I'm not going to worry about that. For now, I'm going to get some sleep and be ready to get back at it tomorrow.
I've been talking in broad terms about this new protocol I'm following. I haven't been wanting to label it because it's going well and I don't want anyone to rain on my parade. I don't even really think it has a specific name, but if I were forced to give it a name, I would call it Paleo-ish.
I'm very fond of the -ish because I feel like it's the English language's way of shrugging it's shoulders and throwing up it's hands. It's the equivalent of wiggling your hand back and forth with your palm parallel to the floor.
I'm a very all-or-nothing kind of person, so I tend to struggle with most eating plans. I've never done well giving up food groups or food types. Ultimately, I find myself covered in Ding Dong wrappers with a massive headache.
I like food. I like food that has flavor. I don't want to eat exactly the same thing every day.
My problem with counting calories is I also want to count my exercise and then eat my exercise. As so many trainers and doctors say, it's all about expending more calories than you're eating. Which is true, but has never really translated to a decent amount of weight loss for me. I think there are people for whom it works well, and I am glad for them. It just turns into this game I play about how much I can or can't eat at any given meal. I spend a lot of time angry and hating MyFitnessPal, and really, what did the app ever do to me?
Meanwhile, I've been taught in church basements that goes like this, "There is a principle which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments, and which cannot fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance--that principle is contempt prior to investigation."
I have been guilty of that in several instances. It has usually not worked out well for me. I have learned that it is best for me to keep an open mind. That's not to say that when people make suggestions I don't internally roll my eyes, but I need to be willing to listen and give people the benefit of the doubt.
So a couple of weeks ago, when my friend Kristin reached out to me and asked if I was willing to follow her suggestions, I said yes. I didn't even know what I was agreeing to, but I had an open mind. I decided that my best thinking has gotten me here. Why don't I, one more time, listen to someone who has more wisdom than I?
As she laid out her suggested plan, I was both excited and skeptical. It seemed sound. I had heard a lot of evidence (before talking to Kristin) that seemed to match what Kristin was saying. I have been trying for years to back away from processed foods and try to eat foods in their natural state.
The skepticism came as she laid out for me *when* and *how* she wanted me to eat.
She suggested that I skip breakfast. The breakfast I had been eating (yogurt and homemade granola) was full of a lot of sugar. She suggested instead that I dine in on my own fat reserves. (Insert eye roll here.)
For lunch, a salad with some protein and lots of veggies. Skip the fruit (except for apples on occasion). This tracked with what the diabetic counselor had told Brian--even the natural sugar will spike blood sugar. Even though I have not been formally diagnosed with Type II diabetes, I'm right on the border, so I'd been following Brian's suggested plan, modified for a woman. (This just means I get fewer carbs at meals.)
For dinner, lean protein, veggies, a sweet potato or couscous.
So it's Paleo-ish. Not really Paleo because they say no dairy. I do a small amount of dairy, but not a lot. The list of things on my protocol is slightly more generous than the list of foods that are Paleo-approved, hence the ish.
I will tell you, for years I have railed (mostly silently) against Paleo. In my mind, for whatever reason, I equated it with Atkins. I didn't think you could have a sustainable eating plan where so many things were not included.
So here's the other component. Emotions. Because let's face it, I am a person with a lot of emotions and I tend to eat when any of those emotions run over. So when I get hangry or down or whatever, I have to stop and write about it. There is a whole model. Kristin's coach, Brooke Castillo, has a book. It's good. I am going to be reading it. But in any case, I am not using food to buffer my emotions. If I am feeling sad, I need to sit with that feeling. If I'm pissed off because I've had a fight with Brian, the solution to the feeling is not food.
For me, the solution is God. And here's where this dovetails nicely with Lysa Terkeurst's book that I mentioned the other day. God wants to be our solution. He wants us to come to him with everything. He promises us that anything we seek to be higher than him, we will find lacking.
As someone who has spent years putting other things above God, I can tell you that's true.
So then the last piece. Once dinner is over, the kitchen is closed. No nighttime snack. I will tell you, I have been finding myself having a single serving of dark chocolate on some evenings. I am not sure yet how I feel about that and how it fits into what I'm trying to do. I will report more on that as it unfolds. But the big thing for me is, once dinner is done, I'm done until lunch the next day.
Here again, I've been having a mid-morning cup of coffee with a very, very small amount of cream in it. I might find in a few weeks that it's no longer serving me. I don't know. For now, it helps a bit.
I weigh in on Friday morning, but as of last Friday, after only 5 days of following Kristin's suggestions, I lost 7 pounds.
Bigger than that, though, is I do not feel like I'm starving. I don't feel deprived. I start eating when my hunger is -2 and I stop when I am at +2. (-10 is I'm ready to start eating my own foot, +10 is I'm so full I'm going to puke.) I feel like I am still learning this scale. I am not used to eating when I start to feel full. It's tricky. It's made me slow down when I eat. I drink a LOT of water. I have a 32 ounce water bottle from Contigo and I drink at least 48 ounces of water during dinner. (Same for lunch.) I drink a lot of water between meals. A lot. No, like a whole bunch.
What's most tremendous for me is that I do not, not one little bit, feel like I'm depriving myself. I don't feel like I'm pining after things. I have started thinking about a piece or two of pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving, but I have time to work through that.
Have I followed my own protocol 100%? Nope. Right now, I have peace about that. I don't feel like this plan is stringent. I don't want to beat myself up for not walking as much as I wanted to in a given day. I want peace. I want peace about food in the worst way, and I can tell you that this plan, so far, is giving me lots of peace.
I've been trying to figure out how to modify recipes to be more Paleo while also not trying to insist that everyone in the house eat like me. What follows is a modification of a recipe I found Googling "ground beef paleo recipes." It was for beef stroganoff, but it called for cubed meat, which I didn't have, and suggested using a cast iron skillet, which I have but can't figure out how to use.
This is the recipe, it's still beef stroganoff, just with ground beef and turkey. I should have taken pictures of it before we ate, but I didn't have the presence of mind.
Ingredients:
1 lb. lean ground beef (I use Costco's grass fed/organic beef)
1 lb. ground turkey (also Costco)
8 oz. mushrooms, sliced
4-5 garlic cloves, minced
1 small onion, chopped
1/4 c. dry white wine
1 c. coconut milk
1 c. beef broth
2-4 tbsp. light sour cream
Directions:
1. Heat a skillet, toss some butter in the skillet (I can't remember how much I used, maybe 2-3 tablespoons). Throw in the mushrooms, let them cook until they start to shrink (not scientific or precise, forgive me, this is the first time I've ever written a recipe. Remove the mushrooms, set aside.
2. Pour some olive oil (just a dollop will do ya) into the skillet. Add the garlic and onion. Cook until the onion is translucent.
3. Add the white wine and let the alcohol cook off.
4. Add the ground beef and turkey. Sprinkle with a fair amount of salt and freshly ground pepper (also Costco). Drain any fat you can.
5. Once the meat is browned evenly, add the coconut milk, beef broth and (if you want) the sour cream. Let it come to a boil, then simmer for about 10 minutes.
I ate this with a sweet potato--I prepared egg noodles for Brian. It's up to you. I know they probably make a Paleo-acceptable egg noodle, but I was happy with just the meat and sweet potato. I finished up my salad from lunch and Brian had some veggies from the veggie platter (also Costco).
From start to finish, the meal took me about 30ish minutes to prepare. It had a great flavor to it and Brian and I enjoyed it--Brooklyn, too, though Bekah was offended that there were mushrooms and the boys don't like their food to be so mixed up.
So there you have it! My first ever (mostly) made-up recipe! I was getting really tired of burgers, tacos and meatloaf, I'm not going to lie. I bought some beans today and am going to bust out the Crock Pot for some chili on Sunday or Monday.
I may be hating all of this in six months, but I'm not going to worry about that. For now, I'm going to get some sleep and be ready to get back at it tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
Just a Little Diddy
I am tired, but am determined to write more regularly, so here I am. I am not even sure what to write about, honestly.
I had another wonderful weekend in Oregon, IL. I walked a lot, talked a lot, laughed A LOT. Cards Against Humanity, while it is R-rated and highly inappropriate, is also really fun to play with friends.
I am reminded after weekends like this one (similar to the reminder I had in June) how important it is for me to have a tribe and to stick with that tribe. I love my friends in my moms groups, I love my friends at church, I love all of the wonderful friends I am privileged to know. There is something special, however, about connecting with people who speak your specific language.
It was great to reconnect with people, some of whom I've not caught up with in a long time. I am disappointed that Bekah's dance recital conflicts with the women's retreat next June. I have managed to get the okay from Brian, though, to have a girl's weekend and possibly travel to AZ to see a close friend of mine.
The other wild thing about this weekend is that I was blessed in physical ways. One of the women I drove home with offered me her TV that she's not used in 4 years. It's an upgrade from our current tube TV and it's in really good shape. A TV! Seriously! Then another friend offered to get me dance items for Bekah on the cheap (she's a dancer and receives a discount). (That offer made me burst into tears. I love Bekah and we make sacrifices for her to be able to pursue her passion. It's so humbling to have someone see the sacrifices and hard work we are making/doing and want to help out.)
Then, as I went to finish unpacking today (which, actually, is a record for me), I found $60 in my bag that I'd never seen before.
Meanwhile, I still have all of my hands and feet. I have managed to stick to the protocol Kristin laid out for me. I didn't die from the cold I had (it was touch-and-go there for a while).
As of last Friday, the end of the first 5 days of the protocol, I lost 7 pounds! I am very close to being under 270 and that hasn't happened for a while. I am not feeling deprived or hungry or anything like that. I have lots of energy, get plenty to eat and aside from drinking a bit less coffee, haven't had to make huge adjustments.
Doug fought getting on the bus yesterday. Today he did a lot better. The kids were driving me nuts after dinner, but I was glad they were doing their best to play together.
Had a good counseling session today. I am reminded that I need to work every day at my faith. I am not working to secure my salvation, but I am training my mind and my body to be more like Christ. It takes an effort to pray, read, meditate, etc. I don't do a perfect job every day, but I do my best to practice these principles in all my affairs.
I am doing my best to combat negative self-talk, which seems to crop up at random times. Like, for example, the current lie being told in my head, that if I don't get up tomorrow at the butt crack of dawn and run/walk before Doug's therapy appointment, I'm a failure. I know that's not true, but it's one of a hundred little blurbs I fight mentally on a daily basis.
I'm hoping to be able to sit down and write more this week, but I'm not sure time will permit me.
I had another wonderful weekend in Oregon, IL. I walked a lot, talked a lot, laughed A LOT. Cards Against Humanity, while it is R-rated and highly inappropriate, is also really fun to play with friends.
I am reminded after weekends like this one (similar to the reminder I had in June) how important it is for me to have a tribe and to stick with that tribe. I love my friends in my moms groups, I love my friends at church, I love all of the wonderful friends I am privileged to know. There is something special, however, about connecting with people who speak your specific language.
It was great to reconnect with people, some of whom I've not caught up with in a long time. I am disappointed that Bekah's dance recital conflicts with the women's retreat next June. I have managed to get the okay from Brian, though, to have a girl's weekend and possibly travel to AZ to see a close friend of mine.
The other wild thing about this weekend is that I was blessed in physical ways. One of the women I drove home with offered me her TV that she's not used in 4 years. It's an upgrade from our current tube TV and it's in really good shape. A TV! Seriously! Then another friend offered to get me dance items for Bekah on the cheap (she's a dancer and receives a discount). (That offer made me burst into tears. I love Bekah and we make sacrifices for her to be able to pursue her passion. It's so humbling to have someone see the sacrifices and hard work we are making/doing and want to help out.)
Then, as I went to finish unpacking today (which, actually, is a record for me), I found $60 in my bag that I'd never seen before.
Meanwhile, I still have all of my hands and feet. I have managed to stick to the protocol Kristin laid out for me. I didn't die from the cold I had (it was touch-and-go there for a while).
As of last Friday, the end of the first 5 days of the protocol, I lost 7 pounds! I am very close to being under 270 and that hasn't happened for a while. I am not feeling deprived or hungry or anything like that. I have lots of energy, get plenty to eat and aside from drinking a bit less coffee, haven't had to make huge adjustments.
Doug fought getting on the bus yesterday. Today he did a lot better. The kids were driving me nuts after dinner, but I was glad they were doing their best to play together.
Had a good counseling session today. I am reminded that I need to work every day at my faith. I am not working to secure my salvation, but I am training my mind and my body to be more like Christ. It takes an effort to pray, read, meditate, etc. I don't do a perfect job every day, but I do my best to practice these principles in all my affairs.
I am doing my best to combat negative self-talk, which seems to crop up at random times. Like, for example, the current lie being told in my head, that if I don't get up tomorrow at the butt crack of dawn and run/walk before Doug's therapy appointment, I'm a failure. I know that's not true, but it's one of a hundred little blurbs I fight mentally on a daily basis.
I'm hoping to be able to sit down and write more this week, but I'm not sure time will permit me.
Monday, September 4, 2017
Peanut Butter: The Long and Winding Road
I haven't published a blog post since last December, though I readily admit to having posted a number of long Facebook statuses. It feels good to be at the keyboard again. I am hoping to get back into a good writing rhythm now that the kids are back in school.
It has been a long day. It's 9 o'clock here and I'm already feeling pretty sleepy.
I have been working on a new food protocol (not my word). I started last week. I listened to a webinar by Brooke Castillo about weight loss. She had a lot of fascinating things to say.
As any of my faithful readers (the few of you that there are) know, I am not one to jump on a "diet" bandwagon. I've never eaten cabbage soup for days, eaten only while standing on my head or only things that fall naturally from the tree. So I'm typically pretty skeptical of any new ideas on how to view food.
That being said, over the years I have gleaned a lot of wisdom from different programs. My ears tend to perk up when I hear the same thing from multiple people. I feel like, if I'm hearing it from different people over a series of years, then there must be something to it.
Brooke's talk was another affirmation of things that I had previously heard.
My first foray into weight-loss (in any measurable way) was at Willow Creek in 99-00. I participated in the Weigh-Down Workshop, the brain child of Gwen Shamblin. It helped in a couple of ways. First, I began to realize that any eating plan that didn't include God's wisdom and strength was doomed. She was a huge proponent of eating only when you're physically hungry (go figure). She also asked that you eat only half of what was on your plate.
I liked the idea she espoused that talked about using food to fill a space meant for God to fill. That resonated with me. Eating when I'm physically hungry, (rather than on a predetermined schedule), yep, that makes sense as well.
Eating only half of the food on my plate was tough. I am a person who lends toward the compulsive and addictive. Why would one ever only eat half a donut? One wouldn't. (Unless one was late to get to the donuts a co-worker brought in and Dawn, who can eat whatever she wants, cut a donut in half and now that's the only one left. Nice going, Dawn. That was made up, but I hope you see what I was going for there.)
Eating sugar for me has always been tricky, so I might be able to leave half a piece of cake on my plate, but rest assured, I will be hiding under the dining room table, my fingers sticky as I finish off the nutty bar I just remembered is at the back of the pantry.
Lysa Terkeurst wrote a book entitled, "Made to Crave: God, not Food." She's anti-sugar. As someone who simultaneously loathes what sugar does for her body and loves what it does for her brain, I rebelled. Nope, I can't give it all up. Nope, just no. But she writes in a way that resonates with me and parallels what Ms. Shamblin had posited way back when. Ultimately, Ms. Terkeurst implores the reader to seek God, not food, when emotionally charged. This is a thing for me and so that resonates with me. But I don't want to have to actually pray and ask God for help, because you know, I've got this (as I lament only having one pair of jeans that kind of fit).
Over the past several years, another common thread I have heard is about how deadly sugar is. I mean, there are studies now that say sugar makes the brain react the same way cocaine does. This is not encouraging for someone who has battled with sugar her whole life. People are not usually casual cocaine users. It's just not how that works. When the dopamine is released in your brain, it's magical and electric and compelling.
So peanut butter.
When I was little, my mom worked for a short while and my brother and I were in daycare. I don't remember the name of the daycare or of the workers or any of my friends. I do, however, remember that for snacks before naptime, we would have toast with peanut butter and jelly. The peanut butter would melt a bit and it...was...heaven. Years later, PB&J has the same effect on me that it did back then. I feel comforted. I feel peaceful. I unwind.
Peanut butter, folks. Peanut butter.
And therein lies the rub. I don't think food should be responsible for how I'm feeling--good, bad or indifferent. Food was created to nourish my body. I have spent my whole life valuing food and valuing myself based on what foods I was eating.
The way I've started doing things (since Friday, so basically of course I'm an expert) is to only eat when I'm hungry (revolutionary, I know) and to stop eating when I'm only slightly full (yes, there are shades of full). If I am agitated or upset or feeling down or whatever, I'm supposed to talk about that. I am not supposed to use food to soothe or relax myself.
I am supposed to have come up with a plan for the rest of the week (but now I'm quite tired and my eyes are droopy). I will, after the kids have left for school, make a plan before I eat my first meal. I am supposed to account for everything that passes my lips (this is always a tricky one for me because I want to be perceived as a "good" girl, as doing things "right," when really it'st just an honest accounting of what I've put in my body.
It's kind of exhausting, but also liberating to not spend my whole day obsessed with what food will be next. Peanut butter is not on the approved list, but I also don't receive 50 lashes if I have some.
Stay tuned!! One thing I heard from the nutritionist Lysa Terkeurst featured on the accompanying videos to her book was that three weeks is a tough time. Most plans will have you losing weight, but its after three weeks that it gets tough and people plateau. My goal is to take one day at a time. I've committed to following this plan for two months. I promise to report if I accidentally gnaw off one my my feet.
It has been a long day. It's 9 o'clock here and I'm already feeling pretty sleepy.
I have been working on a new food protocol (not my word). I started last week. I listened to a webinar by Brooke Castillo about weight loss. She had a lot of fascinating things to say.
As any of my faithful readers (the few of you that there are) know, I am not one to jump on a "diet" bandwagon. I've never eaten cabbage soup for days, eaten only while standing on my head or only things that fall naturally from the tree. So I'm typically pretty skeptical of any new ideas on how to view food.
That being said, over the years I have gleaned a lot of wisdom from different programs. My ears tend to perk up when I hear the same thing from multiple people. I feel like, if I'm hearing it from different people over a series of years, then there must be something to it.
Brooke's talk was another affirmation of things that I had previously heard.
My first foray into weight-loss (in any measurable way) was at Willow Creek in 99-00. I participated in the Weigh-Down Workshop, the brain child of Gwen Shamblin. It helped in a couple of ways. First, I began to realize that any eating plan that didn't include God's wisdom and strength was doomed. She was a huge proponent of eating only when you're physically hungry (go figure). She also asked that you eat only half of what was on your plate.
I liked the idea she espoused that talked about using food to fill a space meant for God to fill. That resonated with me. Eating when I'm physically hungry, (rather than on a predetermined schedule), yep, that makes sense as well.
Eating only half of the food on my plate was tough. I am a person who lends toward the compulsive and addictive. Why would one ever only eat half a donut? One wouldn't. (Unless one was late to get to the donuts a co-worker brought in and Dawn, who can eat whatever she wants, cut a donut in half and now that's the only one left. Nice going, Dawn. That was made up, but I hope you see what I was going for there.)
Eating sugar for me has always been tricky, so I might be able to leave half a piece of cake on my plate, but rest assured, I will be hiding under the dining room table, my fingers sticky as I finish off the nutty bar I just remembered is at the back of the pantry.
Lysa Terkeurst wrote a book entitled, "Made to Crave: God, not Food." She's anti-sugar. As someone who simultaneously loathes what sugar does for her body and loves what it does for her brain, I rebelled. Nope, I can't give it all up. Nope, just no. But she writes in a way that resonates with me and parallels what Ms. Shamblin had posited way back when. Ultimately, Ms. Terkeurst implores the reader to seek God, not food, when emotionally charged. This is a thing for me and so that resonates with me. But I don't want to have to actually pray and ask God for help, because you know, I've got this (as I lament only having one pair of jeans that kind of fit).
Over the past several years, another common thread I have heard is about how deadly sugar is. I mean, there are studies now that say sugar makes the brain react the same way cocaine does. This is not encouraging for someone who has battled with sugar her whole life. People are not usually casual cocaine users. It's just not how that works. When the dopamine is released in your brain, it's magical and electric and compelling.
So peanut butter.
When I was little, my mom worked for a short while and my brother and I were in daycare. I don't remember the name of the daycare or of the workers or any of my friends. I do, however, remember that for snacks before naptime, we would have toast with peanut butter and jelly. The peanut butter would melt a bit and it...was...heaven. Years later, PB&J has the same effect on me that it did back then. I feel comforted. I feel peaceful. I unwind.
Peanut butter, folks. Peanut butter.
And therein lies the rub. I don't think food should be responsible for how I'm feeling--good, bad or indifferent. Food was created to nourish my body. I have spent my whole life valuing food and valuing myself based on what foods I was eating.
The way I've started doing things (since Friday, so basically of course I'm an expert) is to only eat when I'm hungry (revolutionary, I know) and to stop eating when I'm only slightly full (yes, there are shades of full). If I am agitated or upset or feeling down or whatever, I'm supposed to talk about that. I am not supposed to use food to soothe or relax myself.
I am supposed to have come up with a plan for the rest of the week (but now I'm quite tired and my eyes are droopy). I will, after the kids have left for school, make a plan before I eat my first meal. I am supposed to account for everything that passes my lips (this is always a tricky one for me because I want to be perceived as a "good" girl, as doing things "right," when really it'st just an honest accounting of what I've put in my body.
It's kind of exhausting, but also liberating to not spend my whole day obsessed with what food will be next. Peanut butter is not on the approved list, but I also don't receive 50 lashes if I have some.
Stay tuned!! One thing I heard from the nutritionist Lysa Terkeurst featured on the accompanying videos to her book was that three weeks is a tough time. Most plans will have you losing weight, but its after three weeks that it gets tough and people plateau. My goal is to take one day at a time. I've committed to following this plan for two months. I promise to report if I accidentally gnaw off one my my feet.
Monday, December 12, 2016
An Open Letter to D47 Teachers
Following is (as much as is humanly possible) a transcript of the speech I gave tonight at the D47 board meeting. I am not sharing this to toot my own horn. I am sharing it because some of the people I mentioned in the speech were not present. I want to make sure they know how much they mean to my children and my family.
Hi, my name is Sue Carbajal. I feel like it's important to mention that I am a product of public education. I feel very strongly about public education. We are one of the few countries in the world that invests so heavily in public education. I do not think that charter schools or other schools are the answer to our education problem.
I am the daughter of two educators. My mom has been a bilingual first grade teacher in District U46 for over 25 years. I walked with her in picket lines. I stand behind all teachers. My dad currently teaches at Indian Prairie. He told me to look for a friendly face before I started talking. I did and now I'm afraid I'm going to burst into tears.
I also need to say thank you to my husband Brian, who is home with all four kids right now.
We moved to Crystal Lake almost 9 years ago when my oldest was six months old. We chose Crystal Lake over neighboring towns because we heard about how wonderful (and highly rated) the schools were and continue to be.
My oldest, Jeremy, who is now 9, is at Indian Prairie in third grade. I anticipate he will be participating in the extended curriculum program next year. This is significant because he has had an IEP and a 1-on-1 aide since Kindergarten. His teachers, Shannon Martin, Kristin Johnson, Jen Beier and his 1-on-1 aide, Cheryl Brady (who, when he was tasked with writing an essay about a VIP, he wrote about Mrs. Brady), have all helped him cope with diagnoses of ASD, ADHD and SPD. I just recently checked his progress report and while all of his academics were great as usual, I was most moved by what his music teacher said--that he was greatly improved in that subject.
Bekah, who is 7, has flourished and discovered a love of reading as a result of wonderful instruction from Shannon Martin, Jena Brogan and Julie Preshlock. It was because of Mrs Brogan that we discovered Bekah had a vision issue. Mrs. Brogan never doubted that Bekah was a reader. From the first time I was in her class, Mrs. Brogan indicated that all the kids were readers. In a different district or an overcrowded class, Bekah might have fallen through the cracks. Because she's in D47, she didn't.
Doug, my younger son (now 5), started in Early Intervention. His occupational therapist let me know she wouldn't be attending his transition meeting [with the staff at Wehde]. When I pressed her about it, she told me there was no need for her to be there. She knew the staff at Wehde would adopt any recommendations she made. She also noted that she always attends transition meetings in neighboring districts. In those districts, she has to fight so that her patients get the services she feels are vital.
When Doug got to Wehde in 2014, [at age 3], he was barely verbal. Because of the work of Kathy Davis, Jean Besserud and the various support staff--I will also mention Taylor Hansen because her name is in my mind--Doug has become quite a chatterbox and has met many of the other goals the staff has set for him. His favorite thing to say to me lately is, “I love you nommy. You're my best friend.”
My youngest, Brooklyn, is 8 months old. By the time she reaches Indian Prairie, I'm sure she will be a legend. [What I meant here was that all her siblings love her so much. Her picture has been shown to several classes and her grandpa works there. She will not be able to hide.]
My husband and I lived in our house for almost five years before one of our kids started school. We have struggled financially, but we have fought tooth and nail to stay in our home because of the schools and quality educators in District 47. We have never complained about the taxes we pay. We believe the best way we can spend our tax dollars is to fairly and generously compensate the educators that pour into our children and our community.
Technology is a necessary component to help our children compete in our world, but without quality educators helping to operate the technology, the iPads and other technology are useless.
Thank you for allowing me to address you this evening.
(I love public school and I will defend it until I draw my last breath.)
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Dancing with a Peaceful Heart
I am not sure where to start with this post. I've not written anything for a while, obviously. It is becoming increasingly tricky to stay awake long enough to sit at the PC. I have had a fair amount of coffee today (more than normal), so I'm fairly optimistic that I will be able to write without nodding off.
Last year at this time, I wasn't sleeping very well. Physically, though, I was doing okay. I was working with my personal trainer two times a week, eating well and running.
In October, I found out I was pregnant. This was of course happy news. Due to some complications, however, I had to put a full stop to my training and running. We were concerned for a while that the pregnancy might not go full-term.
Those worries were quelled with a very positive 20-week ultrasound. It showed that baby was developing well, that the bleed I'd had was resolved, and that everything was on track.
The problem was, that's about when all the illness started. I caught a respiratory bug that just wouldn't go away. I started sleeping on the recliner downstairs (that's a part of our sectional couch) to get some relief from the coughing. I found out that I had gestational diabetes. I was told that walking would be good exercise. Unfortunately, I've been experiencing a fair amount of pain in my pelvic floor. Even walking around the block made me feel winded and sore.
The kids, meanwhile, have been sick on and off since the start of the year. It has meant our attendance at church, small group and MOPS has been spotty. It has limited the amount of play dates, dinners and other social gatherings that we've been able to attend.
All of this, coupled with the weather, has taken me by the hand and led me to the edge of a deep depression. I have felt very isolated from people. I have grown resentful of people who seem to not have so much going on. My body has continued to deteriorate. I developed sleep apnea around February. I struggle to sleep at night because I wake up at regular intervals, either gasping for air or having to pee. This makes me tired during the day, which causes me to nap. Excessive napping causes me to not be sleepy at night, and so on and so forth.
As of today, everyone is back to healthy. We attended church for the second week in a row. We've not attended for this many weeks in a row (as a whole family) for about six months. We had dinner with our best friends on Thursday night (we hadn't been able to hang out with them since Christmas, again due to illness--ours and theirs). Things were starting to look up, honestly.
However, sometime during the last week, my body threw another curve ball at me. I know it's a common thing that happens with pregnant women. Of course I have to pee all the time, that's not a headline. A woman who is 33 weeks pregnant with her fourth child in 10 years is not going to have a lot of bladder control. I wasn't expecting, however, to become almost completely incontinent. Yep, you read that correctly. For reasons I can't quite understand, I have lost almost all ability to control my bladder at all. I broke down and bought special pads at Wal-Mart the other day.
So let's recap. In September, I ran a half-marathon and was doing plank rows with 15-pound weights. It's April now and I am swollen beyond recognition, my pelvic floor hurts almost all the time, I'm having Braxton-Hicks contractions very regularly and now I'm peeing my pants on the regular.
It's a lot to handle.
This morning, I had Brian drop me off at the church entrance. Even walking from the van to church (less than 10 steps) caused me excruciating pain. I was almost in tears as I waited for Brian and the kids to get in from the parking lot. One of my least favorite things is crying in public, but the pain I was feeling made it almost impossible to fight back tears.
Our pastor is doing a long-term sermon series on Romans. I have missed a bunch of the sermons due to illness. (I know they are available digitally, I just haven't been able to stay awake long enough to get caught up.) Today, he preached on Romans 5, verses 1-11. I will admit, I dozed off a couple of times (spilling coffee on my purse and myself for an added bonus). I cried silently into Brian's shoulder because of how much I was hurting. I excused myself to the washroom and cried in the bathroom stall for a minute or two. Really, though, I did hear what he had to say.
The part that was most impactful talked about suffering, and how suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character and character; hope. He talked about the fact that suffering is actually a gift.
I have had my fair share of non-physical suffering over the past few years. I have not always been able to see it as a gift. I can't say that physical suffering is easy to see from that perspective, either. Especially today, when just walking a few steps into church made me almost burst into tears, I couldn't see how suffering is a gift. For some reason, though, my pastor's words were oddly calming and soothing.
Mind you, I was still almost in tears, I had to waddle to the bathroom to make sure I didn't wet my pants and my hip started bothering me. But I didn't feel as resentful as I had felt before I got to church.
A few people tried to greet me and I mostly just rushed by. I feel kind of bad about that, but then again I didn't want to burst into tears in public. I just wanted to get out. Another friend saw me as I was losing control and gave me an impromptu hug. I sobbed a bit on her shoulder, then made for the exit before anyone else could see me cry.
Most of the time, I would be counting the minutes until I could settle back into my recliner. Today was a bit unique. I had received an email a few weeks ago letting me know that Bekah had a performance today with her dance company.
Over the past few months, she transitioned from doing one class a week to doing four classes a week (this comes out to about 4 hours of dance a week). She just performed at the Raue last month and did beautifully. When I read this email, I made special note of the date. I am not a details person, but since she's upped her commitment, I feel obligated to pay close attention to the details. I want to make sure she doesn't miss an opportunity to perform.
Almost every time I receive an e-mail from her dance school, I write back with questions. I clarify even when it seems like the information is crystal clear. I want to make sure my lack of focus is not a detriment to her.
Except for the email about today. For whatever reason, I put this performance on the calendar, told Bekah about it and had it all planned out. She was supposed to be at Harper College at 2:15. That gave us enough time after church to eat lunch, do her hair and make-up, check in on my friend's dog and get her to Harper. I dropped her off backstage and waddled, you guessed it, to the bathroom. I ran into a friend and we sat down together to wait for the start of the performance.
As we talked, I realized that the email stipulated they would be performing a dance routine from Phantom of the Opera. I assumed, wrongly, that they would also be performing another number, Carnival of the Animals. Since Bekah is newer to the dance company, she learned the choreography to Carnival but not Phantom.
So there I sat, exhausted and in pain, ticket already purchased, wondering how devastated my daughter was going to be that she couldn't perform. I wondered aloud why I hadn't received a separate e-mail stating her attendance wasn't mandatory because they would be performing material she didn't know.
To God's credit (not mine, mind you, because I deserve none), I had no impulse to head backstage and make a scene. I had no impulse to find out if Bekah was okay or not. I clutched onto my ticket as we entered the auditorium and had an overwhelming sense of peace. April and I continued to chat and I did cry a little as I recapped the morning (how much pain I had been experiencing). My shoulders slumped as I imagined how devastated Bekah was going to be at getting all dressed up and not being able to perform.
The show started and I dried my eyes. I love dancing, though I am not good at it. I appreciate the talent that goes into it and tried to just enjoy the different routines.
Before long, it was time for the Phantom performance, which is really a medley of routines and songs. To my surprise, there on stage, in costume, was my Bekah. Of course I burst into tears again. She did a great job and looked as beautiful as ever.
After her portion was done, she was able to sit in the audience with the rest of her level (age group). There was a beautiful dancer that performed in several pieces while in a wheelchair. It was wonderful to see the effort she made and the way she was integrated into the routines.
Once the show was over, I stood up to go retrieve Bekah (and promptly wet my pants, just for good measure). I did my best to let on that I hadn't just done that and was secretly glad that currently black maternity yoga pants are the only things that fit me. Black does hide a multitude of things.
Bekah's face was radiant when I picked her up. April complimented her (as did I). I guess there was a girl that was supposed to be there and didn't show. Bekah, in a very short amount of time, was able to learn the choreography and perform it admirably.
There was a reason God gave me peace. He knew how it would all turn out. He knew Bekah would be able to perform. He knew there would be a solution that meant she wouldn't be devastated. He used my pastor's words this morning to put my heart at ease before I even realized it needed to be at ease.
I am not sharing this because I feel proud of myself (the peeing my pants helps keep the proud feelings at bay). I am proud of my daughter, whose talent allowed her to participate. I am proud of my God, whose plan and peace transcended my own understanding.
He will make a way when there seems to be no way. I'm not much for singing in church (especially in the morning and especially when I've not had coffee yet), but these song lyrics exemplify what happened today. I am happy, not proud, that I was able to be quiet enough to let God do his thing.
Last year at this time, I wasn't sleeping very well. Physically, though, I was doing okay. I was working with my personal trainer two times a week, eating well and running.
In October, I found out I was pregnant. This was of course happy news. Due to some complications, however, I had to put a full stop to my training and running. We were concerned for a while that the pregnancy might not go full-term.
Those worries were quelled with a very positive 20-week ultrasound. It showed that baby was developing well, that the bleed I'd had was resolved, and that everything was on track.
The problem was, that's about when all the illness started. I caught a respiratory bug that just wouldn't go away. I started sleeping on the recliner downstairs (that's a part of our sectional couch) to get some relief from the coughing. I found out that I had gestational diabetes. I was told that walking would be good exercise. Unfortunately, I've been experiencing a fair amount of pain in my pelvic floor. Even walking around the block made me feel winded and sore.
The kids, meanwhile, have been sick on and off since the start of the year. It has meant our attendance at church, small group and MOPS has been spotty. It has limited the amount of play dates, dinners and other social gatherings that we've been able to attend.
All of this, coupled with the weather, has taken me by the hand and led me to the edge of a deep depression. I have felt very isolated from people. I have grown resentful of people who seem to not have so much going on. My body has continued to deteriorate. I developed sleep apnea around February. I struggle to sleep at night because I wake up at regular intervals, either gasping for air or having to pee. This makes me tired during the day, which causes me to nap. Excessive napping causes me to not be sleepy at night, and so on and so forth.
As of today, everyone is back to healthy. We attended church for the second week in a row. We've not attended for this many weeks in a row (as a whole family) for about six months. We had dinner with our best friends on Thursday night (we hadn't been able to hang out with them since Christmas, again due to illness--ours and theirs). Things were starting to look up, honestly.
However, sometime during the last week, my body threw another curve ball at me. I know it's a common thing that happens with pregnant women. Of course I have to pee all the time, that's not a headline. A woman who is 33 weeks pregnant with her fourth child in 10 years is not going to have a lot of bladder control. I wasn't expecting, however, to become almost completely incontinent. Yep, you read that correctly. For reasons I can't quite understand, I have lost almost all ability to control my bladder at all. I broke down and bought special pads at Wal-Mart the other day.
So let's recap. In September, I ran a half-marathon and was doing plank rows with 15-pound weights. It's April now and I am swollen beyond recognition, my pelvic floor hurts almost all the time, I'm having Braxton-Hicks contractions very regularly and now I'm peeing my pants on the regular.
It's a lot to handle.
This morning, I had Brian drop me off at the church entrance. Even walking from the van to church (less than 10 steps) caused me excruciating pain. I was almost in tears as I waited for Brian and the kids to get in from the parking lot. One of my least favorite things is crying in public, but the pain I was feeling made it almost impossible to fight back tears.
Our pastor is doing a long-term sermon series on Romans. I have missed a bunch of the sermons due to illness. (I know they are available digitally, I just haven't been able to stay awake long enough to get caught up.) Today, he preached on Romans 5, verses 1-11. I will admit, I dozed off a couple of times (spilling coffee on my purse and myself for an added bonus). I cried silently into Brian's shoulder because of how much I was hurting. I excused myself to the washroom and cried in the bathroom stall for a minute or two. Really, though, I did hear what he had to say.
The part that was most impactful talked about suffering, and how suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character and character; hope. He talked about the fact that suffering is actually a gift.
I have had my fair share of non-physical suffering over the past few years. I have not always been able to see it as a gift. I can't say that physical suffering is easy to see from that perspective, either. Especially today, when just walking a few steps into church made me almost burst into tears, I couldn't see how suffering is a gift. For some reason, though, my pastor's words were oddly calming and soothing.
Mind you, I was still almost in tears, I had to waddle to the bathroom to make sure I didn't wet my pants and my hip started bothering me. But I didn't feel as resentful as I had felt before I got to church.
A few people tried to greet me and I mostly just rushed by. I feel kind of bad about that, but then again I didn't want to burst into tears in public. I just wanted to get out. Another friend saw me as I was losing control and gave me an impromptu hug. I sobbed a bit on her shoulder, then made for the exit before anyone else could see me cry.
Most of the time, I would be counting the minutes until I could settle back into my recliner. Today was a bit unique. I had received an email a few weeks ago letting me know that Bekah had a performance today with her dance company.
Over the past few months, she transitioned from doing one class a week to doing four classes a week (this comes out to about 4 hours of dance a week). She just performed at the Raue last month and did beautifully. When I read this email, I made special note of the date. I am not a details person, but since she's upped her commitment, I feel obligated to pay close attention to the details. I want to make sure she doesn't miss an opportunity to perform.
Almost every time I receive an e-mail from her dance school, I write back with questions. I clarify even when it seems like the information is crystal clear. I want to make sure my lack of focus is not a detriment to her.
Except for the email about today. For whatever reason, I put this performance on the calendar, told Bekah about it and had it all planned out. She was supposed to be at Harper College at 2:15. That gave us enough time after church to eat lunch, do her hair and make-up, check in on my friend's dog and get her to Harper. I dropped her off backstage and waddled, you guessed it, to the bathroom. I ran into a friend and we sat down together to wait for the start of the performance.
As we talked, I realized that the email stipulated they would be performing a dance routine from Phantom of the Opera. I assumed, wrongly, that they would also be performing another number, Carnival of the Animals. Since Bekah is newer to the dance company, she learned the choreography to Carnival but not Phantom.
So there I sat, exhausted and in pain, ticket already purchased, wondering how devastated my daughter was going to be that she couldn't perform. I wondered aloud why I hadn't received a separate e-mail stating her attendance wasn't mandatory because they would be performing material she didn't know.
To God's credit (not mine, mind you, because I deserve none), I had no impulse to head backstage and make a scene. I had no impulse to find out if Bekah was okay or not. I clutched onto my ticket as we entered the auditorium and had an overwhelming sense of peace. April and I continued to chat and I did cry a little as I recapped the morning (how much pain I had been experiencing). My shoulders slumped as I imagined how devastated Bekah was going to be at getting all dressed up and not being able to perform.
The show started and I dried my eyes. I love dancing, though I am not good at it. I appreciate the talent that goes into it and tried to just enjoy the different routines.
Before long, it was time for the Phantom performance, which is really a medley of routines and songs. To my surprise, there on stage, in costume, was my Bekah. Of course I burst into tears again. She did a great job and looked as beautiful as ever.
After her portion was done, she was able to sit in the audience with the rest of her level (age group). There was a beautiful dancer that performed in several pieces while in a wheelchair. It was wonderful to see the effort she made and the way she was integrated into the routines.
Once the show was over, I stood up to go retrieve Bekah (and promptly wet my pants, just for good measure). I did my best to let on that I hadn't just done that and was secretly glad that currently black maternity yoga pants are the only things that fit me. Black does hide a multitude of things.
Bekah's face was radiant when I picked her up. April complimented her (as did I). I guess there was a girl that was supposed to be there and didn't show. Bekah, in a very short amount of time, was able to learn the choreography and perform it admirably.
There was a reason God gave me peace. He knew how it would all turn out. He knew Bekah would be able to perform. He knew there would be a solution that meant she wouldn't be devastated. He used my pastor's words this morning to put my heart at ease before I even realized it needed to be at ease.
I am not sharing this because I feel proud of myself (the peeing my pants helps keep the proud feelings at bay). I am proud of my daughter, whose talent allowed her to participate. I am proud of my God, whose plan and peace transcended my own understanding.
He will make a way when there seems to be no way. I'm not much for singing in church (especially in the morning and especially when I've not had coffee yet), but these song lyrics exemplify what happened today. I am happy, not proud, that I was able to be quiet enough to let God do his thing.
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