Weekend Warrior #2

Weekend Warrior #2

by | Mar 5, 2017 | Weekend Warrior

 

It is Sunday.  I am gearing up to do all the things I haven’t done yet this weekend that are on my weekly list.  That is not to say that I have been lying around on my couch until now, either.  I have been out and about this weekend, spending time with friends.  That is important, too.

Friday night I was invited to celebrate a friend’s birthday, hosted by a mutual friend.  I need to make sure that I eat, and that I keep it healthy.  I made deviled eggs, Big Mac Salad, with regular meat and soy meat options, and I made dessert.  We played board games and just dance.

This was my second time making deviled eggs.  They were a hit both times, so I think it may become a potluck staple for me to bring.  They are on plan.  People like them. Win win!

The salad is a version of a THM recipe.  It can be found easily online.  The soy meat was for the vegetarian of the group, and he got the leftovers since it was his birthday celebration. The THM plan is not big on Soy products, but I wanted my friend to have the full Big Mac Salad experience.  So I improvised, and everyone seemed to like the salad too.

Dessert was an adventure.  I made Rainbow cake in mason jars.

I made Unicorn Rainbow Dip for a cake topping, and of course, added rainbow sprinkles.  I probably won’t be making this cake in mason jars when I make it again.  The dip was amazing, and not too sweet like icing would have been.  I think it would be wonderful for cake pops.  I made it the night before, and let it set in the fridge overnight.  This was a quick assembly after work on Friday.  It took longer to make the deviled eggs.  My friends added dips and loaded potato skins and bruschetta and deep fried pickles to the table.  It was a lot of food for a party of 4.

Yesterday I wanted to spend time with another couple that my husband and I are friends with.  We went out for supper, and back to their place to watch some movies on Netflix.  I had not seen the John Wick movie, and they all rewatched while I saw it for the first time.  Now I can be ready for the newly released sequel, that we want to see as a group if we can plan it that way.

I was busy, and now I am scrambling to play catch up before Monday rolls around again.  I am still working from lists.  Some things get done, and other things carry forward to the next weekend.  It is time to crank the tunes and get some chores done.  I have a few hours to spend on that, and then it’s time to get ready for another week at the day job.  Until next weekend, when I become the Weekend Warrior again.  Although I was more of a warrior of the social scene this weekend, there is still some time to make progress on the chores, if I hurry!  Time to Bounce the House once again!

Weekend Warrior #2

Weekend Warrior

by | Mar 4, 2017 | Weekend Warrior

 

This picture really made me laugh.  It will be the picture for my new Blogging series, called Weekend Warrior.  I am working on cleaning and organizing my home so that when I am ready to dive into writing my books, I will not have to worry about what is not getting done or what should be getting done.

I just had breakfast.  I like to sleep in on the weekends.  This means if I am motivated and working on my house and chore list, it continues well after dark.  I am a night owl, but find the weekday schedule really helps me to stay on track with my health.  So I am a part of the rat race, Monday to Friday, 9 to 5, working woman.  I do have a day job.  The bills need to be paid.  SO on a weekend when there are no plans outside of the house, I sleep in and go a little off schedule.  I enjoy that.  When we get a dog later this year, I hope it likes to sleep in on the weekends too.  I realize that there will be necessary walks and wake ups with a dog to take them outside, but that doesn’t mean a nap won’t follow those little adventures.

I am breaking in my new coffee mug.  It says, “Overthinkin’ and coffee drinkin’ ” it suits my life and my logo.  It is a good size, and I purchased it last weekend on a whim.  I saw it on facebook and had to have it.  It is so “ME!”  I will drink coffee from it while I write.  It holds 16 oz of coffee, and that is a good start for my weekend coffee.

new-coffe-mug

My new coffee mug. It says, Overthinkin’ and coffee drinkin’ on it. #WeekendWarrior

Plans for the weekend are developing, on the social side of things.  Which means I have to make the most of the afternoon as I may be out this evening.  Combining the things I don’t want to do with things I do want to do works out, somewhat.  It can be counterproductive, too, though.  If I am really on a roll, and getting things done on my list, then it is hard to find the motivation to keep going if I have to stop.  Or sometimes I don’t start at all because I know I won’t be able to finish.

Sometimes I get a lot done, and sometimes I overthink the projects and that takes up all of my time.  Music is a huge motivator for me.  If the tunes are cranked, I find it hard to sit still.  I like background music or TV when I am surfing the internet, or working on stationary projects, but to get me up and moving, the tunes have to be cranked.

Weekend Warrior.  That is what I feel like when I am having a productive weekend.  It doesn’t mean I am changing the world, or working on building or renovating anything.  It does mean I am making progress on my lists, getting up and moving around, staying motivated, and having a little fun.  Making the most of my free time, and getting that much closer to the goal of writing my books.  Singing and dancing my way through the weekend is how I put on my game face.  When I am Bouncing the House, I am getting the lists done, and that is exactly what weekends are for.

#WeekendWarrior

 

 

 

TRUST YOUR GUT: REBECCA’S STORY

TRUST YOUR GUT: REBECCA’S STORY

by | Mar 2, 2017 | Trust Your Gut

Trust Your Gut is a series of stories about real people with weight issues, and complications arising from those issues.  It will explain what the person is facing, what their options are, what they have decided to do to take action, and why they chose the path they are on.  Each person’s story will be based on truth, so it won’t all be happy, but it will be real.  The goal of this series is to get people talking about options that are available for people who have weight issues, on either end of the scale.  If you would like to contribute to this series, there is a contact form linked on my Homepage for this blog.  I know there are people out there that want to help people like them; as I do.

The names here may or may not reflect the person’s real name.  If someone wants to remain unknown, we will choose a different name for that person’s story.  The goal is to help people, and anonymity is a valid personal choice for contributors.  I will use a person’s name only if they give permission to do so.

This week I am pleased to share the story of another friend.  It is written in her own words, and she submitted it earlier this week with her permission to share it as a part of the series.

Here is Trust Your Gut: Rebecca’s Story

440 ….Yes, you read that right. I know it’s a crazy huge number. This is what the scale was screaming at me just about three years ago. 440 pounds, it was the heaviest I have ever been. I remember when I saw that number how ashamed and helpless I felt like the entire world was crashing down on me all at once. I was seeing the girl from the health supplement store talking, but I couldn’t hear a word. It was like my ears had stopped working and I was temporarily deaf. I finally shook myself back into the moment and fought back tears the entire way home.

I couldn’t believe how bad my health had become. I mean I felt great, I was going on walks all over town with my husband and they would have us out all day. I could even run up a flight of stairs. So this really bugged me. I cried all night until sleep finally won the battle,  and I gave into it like some sickly sweet relief.

I have always been a bigger girl, most of my childhood photos have documented my gradual gain over the years. I grew up in a small town just outside of Fredericton NB where everybody knows you…or thinks they do. My mother had left my abusive father when I was just 3 years old. I remember turning 4 in a women’s shelter and I still carry those memories with me. I had to grow up fast. I remember seeing my woman’s look so exhausted and when we all settled into bed on our first night in the shelter, hearing her cry herself to sleep because of the decision she made. This has stayed with me the most because I had also made a decision that night. I decided at 3 years old I was going to make my mom happy and help her the best I could with raising, my younger,  2-year-old brother.

Mom used to starve herself when we were low on food and she was scared she wouldn’t have enough to feed us another night, but she always seemed to get by. She would even burn her books in the winter when we had run out of oil for the furnace and wood for the stove. Later on, in my early teens, I discovered this and was truly heartbroken. I had failed at keeping my promise, but I would make it right. I know it sounds crazy but that’s what I thought I had to do. So when things would get tight I’d stop eating. I’d go all day at school fighting off the hunger pains and the dizzy spells,  just knowing mom and my brother would be able to eat and we could get by. All I needed to do was to push through. I had managed to rewire my body to survive on 3 hours of sleep and maybe 1 meal a day.

As the years progressed and the sizes of my clothes increased,  I had a lot of hard moments that were emotionally draining. The time I was maybe 9 or 10 and had to wear a 2XL. Or the time in 5th grade I had to wear a woman’s bra because my chest had developed faster than the other girls and because I had gained so much at this point.  Other milestones, the girls I went to school with, were so excited for, I dreaded with a fuming passion. I hated the way I looked and they all knew it. Countless times I was bullied to the point where I just wanted to never wake up. I hated going to school and fought with my mom for hours to make her keep me home. I would fake being sick or just not go. I would stay up all night just so I could sleep the day away to avoid going to school the next day.

Finally, after high school, things got better for a while. I was working and even dating. I had no interest in seeing a scale but I kept the number 250 lbs in my head since I was 16 and prayed I’d never see it go higher. Almost 6 years later, boy did I get a wake-up call. Standing in Herbal Magic seeing that 440 lbs on the scale was my rock bottom.

I was trying to stay active and I  was really sure I’d walk off the weight. I tried to change my diet and eating habits, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, the rock bottom fell out from under me and I ended up losing my ability to stand, walk and even sit for any length of time. It seems in a pure fashion that when I was trying to fix my body;  my body was giving out on me. My doctor told me that I had Degenerative Disk Disorder and in about 10 years I would be confined to a wheelchair. Little did he know it was actually just bulging disks. So after a few CT Scans and blood work and even seeing the “specialist”, They all said the same thing. I knew this couldn’t be it. I mean yeah, my back pain was excruciating ALL the time, every day, and sure I couldn’t stand for 5 minutes or my feet would go numb but NO! I could  NOT accept this. No one seemed to want to help me. They all said lose some weight and it will get better. Okay well, how do I do that? I’d ask, “I have been trying to I can’t do this alone” I’d say, but their response was “Well,  diet and exercise”

I finally switched Doctors and now he has been helping me by setting me up with dietitians and said I should exercise more. Yes, this all sounds so simple, like common sense, but I was so overwhelmed with the thought that I’d end up in a wheelchair, I couldn’t think of anything but “PLEASE TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!!” I was doing well with losing a little weight at a time but then another blow to my bubble came when my knees started giving out.

The doc said that dreadful, poisonous statement I had heard before…” in 8-10 years you could be in a wheelchair;  unable to walk at all’” and as my faith and hope started to shatter apart like a piece of fine china, he said,  “But I have an idea.”  “OK, his I can deal with,  lay it on me doc, what is the idea?!?!”  He suggested referring me to the Bariatric Surgeon for Gastric Bypass surgery.

Oh great,  another doc focused on telling me I was fat and eating too much; keep in mind I’m still eating maybe twice a day. He gently explained to me that it wasn’t to focus on just my weight. He had every confidence that I could lose it, but not a fast as we needed me to. He said that with the help of this surgery I could ease the strain on my back, knees and also lose weight to help make myself stay active and be able to live my life again. He had to stress that he wasn’t saying this because he just saw me as another big girl but, that he was worried this would be my only option. After a long emotional episode in front of my doc, he reassured me he wasn’t going to give up on me as long as I didn’t give up on myself. I tried to get him to rethink not sending in the form to the surgeon,  but he did anyway. He said keep your options open, just meet with the surgeon and ask questions. Then if you still don’t want to do it then don’t. He begged me not to cancel the request and I am so glad I didn’t.

After seeing two dietitians  I found out that eating once a day was probably the biggest factor to my weight gain. Now I am trying to focus on eating the right things 5 times a day…yup 5 times a day!! I found out that the wait list for the surgeon was 4-7 years long. OK fine, I’ll just keep this out of my head and forget about it. 1 year after my doctor sent in the form, I get the call from his office talking about the binder they are sending me and that I had to fill out a form and send back. This past May (2016) they were calling me. So I took a chance and filled it out and sent it in. Then I had to pay to see his specific dietitian. She’s great and very helpful and has been trying to help me stay on track with a food journal and eating 5 times a day and what not…but she told me that I was basically on the top of the surgeon’s list because he sees that my physical condition is at serious risk. I went from waiting 4-7 years to see him but in the run of 4 months preparing to meet him. I still haven’t got that far yet but very soon. I may be going through with this, late summer to early fall. Yes, I’m terrified and don’t really know how I will handle it. I’ve even met a really great friend who has done the surgery who has been a wonderful blessing in my life.

I am gradually climbing back up out of my hole. I have been walking on my treadmill to keep my feet from swelling too much and eating better throughout the day. To me, that’s the start of something amazing. I’ve even got a job that I love. For the first time in 5 years, I’m working and focusing on myself and trying to make me healthy. I have woken up every day this past week without being in severe pain! I still struggle but I am staying positive and that’s all I can do right now, and you know what? I’m OK with that.

Thank you, Rebecca, for sharing your story here. Your honesty and personality shine through your words.  It is hard to hit rock bottom, and many people never make it back up out of the hole they find themselves in.  You should be proud of yourself for what you have accomplished, and I look forward to an update when you are ready to share again.  Keep going, that is the most important part.  There is always a reason to hope, and you are an example of what a person that keeps optimistic can accomplish with hard work and determination.  It seems like you have chosen your path, and I wish you great success on your journey.

Dealing With Unexpected Grief

Dealing With Unexpected Grief

by | Feb 26, 2017 | Weekend Warrior

 

Grief happens, because it is a part of life, and life happens.  We all experience grief in different ways, and at different times.  There are stages of grief, and they are well documented by experts.  My story today was inspired by a recent wave.

I have been lucky, to be 42 years old, I have lost some of my grandparents, and their siblings, and two of my uncles;  but most of my immediate family members are alive. I dread the coming days when that changes.  It will happen, and I will have to deal with it unless I die before the rest of my family.  I don’t dwell on it, and I don’t live in fear of what will be.  We all have our time, and there is nothing we can do to avoid it.  What we can do is live, and try to follow the moral guidelines we hold dear to our souls.

In the years since I have moved to Fredericton, NB, I have experienced the loss of some friends.  It is a hard thing to learn to live with, the loss of a close friend.  There are two people in particular that I am thinking of.  They were my friends, and I still miss them.

I don’t focus on the loss, once time passes, and the funeral becomes a little less fresh in my mind.  I have a lamp that one of these friends gave me, at my desk.  It has an arm and hinges to tighten to hold the lamp in the position I want it to stay in.

Every once in a while, the lamp tilts down.  I have always seen this as my friend’s ghost checking up on me.  It may sound silly, but I say hi to him whenever it has fallen down.  This friend became ill when a virus attacked his heart.  He had some time to prepare for the end, and we all knew it would happen.  We had all gathered in the hospital to show support for him and his wife, near the end.  It struck me hardest before he was gone, one of our mutual friends had gone in to see him, and he was not in very good shape.  I wanted to know if she had told him that my husband and I were there, so he would know.  She said she had told him for us.  When this friend dropped me off at home, I was alone.  I leaned against my door, after I had closed it, and had my cry.  I cried off and on for a week, little fits here and there, but that was my moment when I let myself feel the pain of losing that friend.

On New Year’s Eve, 2016, I was with the same group of friends, celebrating the beginning of 2017.  It was our annual house party, and it is always a potluck.  We meet, have a few drinks, eat, talk, and play games.  If there is a World Juniors Hockey Game being aired, my husband makes our hostess turn on a TV, so he can enjoy what is notably the best hockey in the world, especially if Team Canada is playing.

When we came home, it was 2017.  I had enjoyed a lovely evening and was in good spirits.  I walked over to my desk, and the lamp had tilted while I was out.  I said hello and happy new year and did something I haven’t done before.  I sent a group message to the other friends that were at the party with me and passed on the story, and a happy new year from our friend’s ghost.  It felt like the right thing to do.

The other friend died more recently, we are quickly approaching the one year mark.  We became fast friends when we met on a dance floor.  I had talked to her on occasion before that night. When my friends wanted to bail I asked her if I was welcome to hang out with her for the rest of the evening, and it started a beautiful friendship that ended way too soon.

It was the big C she was fighting when she lost the battle.  Cancer is awful, and she fought like a warrior; until she couldn’t anymore.  My friend was vibrant, beautiful, and had just started a new phase in her life.  She had moved away for school. She was an artist, and learning was something she was passionate about.  We kept in touch on Facebook, and she was really enjoying the courses she was taking.

One day she confided in me that she had found a lump, and it was cancer.  I stayed in touch, and we chatted about school, her cats, her treatments, and her apartment adventures.  One day I realized that she hadn’t been saying much.  She was losing her fight. I started a conversation; that was the last one we were going to have.  I was trying to be supportive and positive.  It wasn’t working.  So, I did what I do best.  I got her laughing.  We went down a silly path in that conversation about her feelings about cancer.  She got to vent, creatively.  I like to think I helped her deal, in a very small way.

This week, I saw an ad for a band I like that is coming to town.  I always go to see them, and I don’t plan anything different this time around.  I was sharing it on my wall when it hit me.  I had introduced my friend to this band before she moved away.  We had a blast, and she liked them, too.  She was a people watcher and was confused by the mixture of people and styles of the other fans that were there.  We decided that they were Preppies, Hipsters, and Lumberjacks.  Plaid and beards and all mixed with a few clean-cut well dressed glasses wearing people.  An odd mixture, but all present enjoyed the show, as always.  I took her a little out of her comfort zone that night, but we had a lot of fun, and it was worth it.

So the other night, when the memory of seeing the band with her the last time they were in town hit me, I was sitting at my desk; overwhelmed with grief.  I let the tears fall.  It was completely unexpected but necessary.  That’s the thing about grief, it has to run its course.  Things happen, and you feel sad sometimes.  It is what it is.  It is healthier to deal with the feelings when they arise, instead of bottling them inside, where they fester and grow.  Not letting your feelings out is toxic, and it never ends well, because instead of a healthy release, it could be an explosion, and the aftermath of that could be a bigger disaster than you are able to handle.  So focus on the good times, and the memories that make you smile.  When you need to express your grief, you don’t always get to choose when or how that happens, but it is necessary to help you move past the grief being so heavy on your heart all of the time.  There is nothing wrong with grieving, and I do cry when I am overcome with grief.  I try to be alone if I can, but you can’t plan it every time.  You just have to deal with it, and keep moving forward, until it isn’t so raw.  The important part is to let it out, so you can begin to heal.

It never goes away. I will always miss my friends, but I am still here, and I have to keep on living. One minute at a time, to a day at a time; whatever I am capable of in that moment. My first friend made me promise to take good care of my health, and I am honouring his memory by doing my best to be healthier.  My second friend was an artist, and I am working towards writing a book this year.  She would be proud that I am working on a lifelong goal, and as we had talked about many things during our friendship; she would also be happy to know I am working on my health and cleaning and organizing my house before getting the book started.  She had a preferred method for upkeep on cleaning styles, and I plan to get that method in place when the deep clean is done, so I keep up with it for the long-term.  That is how I am honouring her memory.  This is important too, it helps me keep them in my heart, without causing more grief.  If you don’t have a special way to honour the memory of a lost loved one, start one.

Random acts of kindness are a positive way to do good for someone else, and in your heart, it can be from your loved one, in their memory.  Take whatever time you need to decide what it will be, and follow through.  This way, it won’t just be yourself that you help, it just might help someone else cope a little better in their day, too.  Even if it only makes you feel better for an hour, it is a start, and by helping others, you can begin to help yourself heal in a positive way.

Wait, what? Me? Really? Oh, Thank you!

Wait, what? Me? Really? Oh, Thank you!

by | Feb 25, 2017 | Weekend Warrior

flower-887443_1920When I started going to Zumba classes, I did a lot of the movements at half speed.  I had to pace myself.  I still do, but I am pushing myself more now than I did a few years ago. I go as much as I can, and I hate to miss class.  It is literally the best part of Mondays and Wednesdays.

I am an optimist.  Loyal, and honest to a fault. I am stubborn.  When I make up my mind to do something, I usually don’t change it.  I can be firm on my decisions, and hard to sway from something I have already committed to in my mind.

I use this to my advantage.  I am working really hard at everything in my daily life right now.  I don’t know if it’s because I hit that number 42 this year, and things are all clicking into place at this point in my life, but things seem to be going well right now. *Knocks on wood*

I am making progress in my cleaning and organizing challenges.  It is not fast, or furious, but it is coming along, one frenzied spurt at a time.  I plan to dive back into it this weekend.  I really hope to get enough done that I can share pictures soon.

I am working on my health too.  I am constantly talking about Trim Healthy Mama, and whether or not the food I am eating at any given meal is on or off plan.  I am cooking more, and I tried a salad in a Mason jar for lunch one day this week.  It was fabulous.  I may add those into my regular lunch rotation, with a little less dressing.

I am Blogging, hear me type!  This is a new adventure for me, and I am having a lot of fun.  I am Always Thinking…so it is nice to have a focus for some of my thoughts.  I really enjoy watching for likes and comments, especially from strangers.  It is great to have support from your friends and family, but the kindness of strangers in the Blogging world is truly phenomenal.  There has been a lot of support and encouragement since I have started, and that motivates me to keep going.

Which brings me to the point of my story.  People are using words like engaging and inspirational when they are commenting about my work.  Wait, what? Me?  Really? Oh, Thank you!  is exactly how I feel when this happens.  I am learning how to accept compliments, and those are some mighty big ones!  I am flabbergasted by the word inspirational.  Not me.  I am just me.  I am starting to believe that I can tell stories and be funny.  But I am the same person I always was.  Maybe a little more focused and better at following through with things, but not inspirational.  Not me.

So if I stop for a moment when I hear or read a compliment, sometimes I am just processing what I am hearing or reading.  I might need a moment to understand that you are sincere, and figuring out an appropriate response.  I realize that a simple thank you is the standard reply for a compliment, and sometimes the delay is longer than expected for my reply, whether in person or online.  Trust me when I say that I may truly be in shock when I am experiencing this, and I am learning how to accept the praise, and even starting to pay it forward with saying nice things to other people too.

Quirky, stubborn, geeky, fun; with a wicked sense of humour, I believe.  Inspirational is not a word I would choose to describe myself.  It seems so much bigger than I am, but if people are getting that feeling from me just being myself, well I guess I must be doing something right!