Grapes of La Granja
Grapes of "La Granja", Palma de Majorca, Spain
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
The Cookie Torture
We had lunch at Panera. I ordered from the “Choose 2” menu and had a salad and black bean soup. Ok, fine – it came with a small slice of a baguette, which I also ate. All in all, it was pretty healthy, and it definitely met my caloric goals.
My mother was treating us to lunch, which was great because I have three kids and feeding them at Panera isn’t cheap. Once you pay $4.19 for a tiny sandwich (which by the way, has gotten smaller and smaller every time we’ve eaten there) and a yogurt tube, then add a $2 drink, then multiply by 3 – you’ve spent $20 on PB&J and yogurt. If you spent that at a grocery store for the same products, you’d have lunch for the week!
But I digress. As I said, this was my mom’s treat, and because she’s the grandmother, she gets to spoil the kids. Each child got a sweet from the bakery case. My eldest child got a giant cinnamon roll. This poses no threat to me because there’s no way that a 13 year old boy isn’t going to finish this item. My other 2 children got M&M cookies, and this is where the torture begins.
My youngest child is 5 years old, and he doesn’t eat when he’s not hungry. Would that I could possess some of that self-control! He ate very little of the macaroni we’d ordered for him, he ate half of the yogurt tube, and then pushed the cookie away. The giant, chocolate-candy dotted deliciousness that his loving Nana had bought just for him – he didn’t care about it! I told him, “you need to eat your lunch so you can have your cookie or else mommy is going to eat it all up!” Usually this works – he can’t stand for anyone to take what’s rightfully his. He’s third in line for most things, so when he has something, he will fight to the death to defend it!
He had a late breakfast that morning and had felt slightly ill the day prior, so he just wasn’t hungry. And now I’d promised to eat his precious cookie as some kind of bizarre punishment. I’d been tracking my food intake in a virtual diary all week, and had dropped 6 pounds (water weight certainly, but I’ll take it!). This was no time for sabotaging myself for the sake of disciplining a 5 year old. Now it was out there though – mommy will eat your cookie if you don’t do as she says!
I boxed up his entire lunch – the macaroni, the cookie, the yogurt that the 13 year old didn’t eat (who wants yogurt when a giant cinnamon roll is beckoning?), even the napkins. I left no trace of our having been there at all. I brought it all home and put it in the fridge.
There, it began to taunt me, and would continue to taunt me until the wee hours of the next morning.
I knew it was there. We had dinner that evening and even went out for froyo (I got the no sugar added version – I’m such a good girl). We were home by 6:15. By 7:30, I was hungry again. What do we have? I investigated. Oh look! We have a cookie. Colorful, yummy, available cookie – which we never have. I don’t buy them because none of us can resist them. They are only a treat when we are out of the house. Yet there it was; a cookie!
“You’ve lost 6 pounds!” it said to me. “You can have me. It’s ok. You’ve done so well this week, don’t you deserve a little treat?” A little treat would have been a chocolate-chip granola bar, or perhaps a serving of my favorite cereal. This was a 400 calorie, 19g of fat, 52 carb indulgence, NOT a little treat. “It won’t matter – what’s one cookie in the grand scheme of things?” This cookie was literally calling to me from the fridge.
I had a sugar-free fudge popsicle (40 calories), and a raspberry fruit strip (45 calories), a giant glass of water, and then went to bed. The cookie still called. “Nobody will know. Your weigh-in is tomorrow, so you can always start fresh in the morning.” This cookie was working me! It knew all of my weaknesses, and all of my excuses. I couldn’t sleep! I played a few games on my phone. I snuggled with the pets. I watched my favorite re-runs on TV. Midnight passed. 1:00 a.m. passed. COOKIE!!!!!
I made a note to myself – “write about the torturous cookie tomorrow”. It was at that moment that I realized - my story won’t mean anything to anyone if I give in to that coercing cookie. If the cookie wins, then I will feel bad, nobody will be inspired, and on a really pathetic note, I will have taken a cookie away from a 5 year old who didn’t feel well. How bad did I want that damn cookie?
I put on some warm socks and buried myself in covers. Now warm and fuzzy-headed, I was able to drift into sleep. I made it through the night without eating it. I won!
It remained there until morning and I gave it to the 5 year old for breakfast (don’t judge me- it’s been a long Summer). It is out of my life forever now. I feel better about myself. I feel healthier, I stand taller, and I know I set the right example for myself and my kids.
I hope this story helps others fight whatever pastry, potato chip, or peanut butter temptation is calling to them from the depths of their pantries. When you find yourself faced with those Oreos your husband brought home, the leftover cake in the breakroom, or the ice cream at your niece’s birthday party, just think of me and the curse of the cookie and find a smarter snack instead. Believe me, if I can do it, anyone can!
Until we meet again, cookie. Until we meet again!
Monday, June 16, 2014
The Power of 9
Numbers. Research has been done on their meanings. The number 7 is mentioned thousands of times in the bible. The number 3 is ever present - three strikes, "death comes in threes", the Holy Trinity, "you're once, twice, THREE times a lady...", ad infinitum.
The number that won't escape my brain currently however, is nine. There are 9 innings in a baseball game, my geek friends can attest to there being 9 Kings in the "Lord of the Rings", golf is divided into the front 9 and the back 9, and even my college sorority has 9 founding members.
The most recognizable "9" though? Ask any mother and she can answer without a moment's contemplation: it's the duration of a pregnancy. It is the countdown until your entire world gets thrown off its current course and onto a new one. It might mean the time in which you change from a couple to a family. Or it could mean the moment when you make your oldest child into a sibling, or doom your second child to become forever a middle child.
I've experienced this miraculous 9 three times now. I'm grateful that each time, I was able to complete the full 9, and I have three lovely (albeit WILD) children to show for it.
This week though, the number 9 renders me tearful. Not all mother's who embark on the journey of 9 are able to see it through. Some are forced to deliver early and must suffer alongside their preemies. And some never make it to the end of the 9 with a baby to show for it. This is where my story begins.
In October 2013, I wasn't quite feeling myself. I recognized the symptoms immediately...late period, sore chest, and an internal nervousness that had no exterior prompting. I was certain something was wrong - I had my "tubes tied" after I delivered my 3rd child, so I couldn't possibly be pregnant. I took a test anyway just to rule it out. The damn thing was positive!
I'll admit it - I cried. And not the happy tears of an excited mother-to-be either. I'm embarrassed now to say that I was just upset to be pregnant. I had lost over 100 pounds after having my last child, and I wasn't prepared to wreck my body again. I already had three kids, who are, some days, three more than I can handle. I was not happy.
I looked up "pregnancy after tubal" and each article had one thing in common - contact your doctor immediately. So I did, and I had an appointment that afternoon. The ultrasound showed a "possible egg sack" in my uterus.
I have strong beliefs about terminating pregnancies just because they're "inconvenient", so that was never even the slightest consideration. I was pregnant and I was going to learn to be happy about it, dammit!
I was told to come back in a week to we could get a more conclusive ultrasound. A week is a LONG time when you are pregnant. I stay at home with my youngest child, so I had no grown-up "work" to distract me. Just me and my laptop and the "Cars 2" disk for the 10 millionth time. I browsed baby bedding, nursery themes, baby names...and I was actually getting excited! My husband was too! I went to the mall where I figured it wouldn't hurt to walk-through "Motherhood Maternity" just to update myself on the latest pregnancy fashions. My husband and I started mentally re-configuring our home to accommodate a nursery for a 4th child.
Then came the day. I hadn't been sick and I had even run a 5k - 2 facts that boggle the mind if you'd been present for my other pregnancies (which were awful). I chalked it up to being healthier. I went to the ultrasound room, not for the cute little ultrasounds you see on television with the jelly on the belly, but the really uncomfortable internal kind they do on early pregnancies. It took FOREVER. It HURT. The ultrasound tech looked concerned, but I didn't even really notice...I just thought maybe she was having a hard time locating my baby because it was still so early. She put my results in a file and sent me out in the hall to wait.
When I was called into the room, the doctor looked un-phased. I awaited her to tell me how far along I was. I figured about 6-8 weeks.
"Well, it's definitely ectopic" she said (meaning in the fallopian tube, not in the uterus where it should be). "See this image on the ultrasound photo? That is blood surrounding the embryo in your fallopian tubes. See that? That's the cardiac activity. What happens next is that you will meet me at the hospital at 3:00 this afternoon, we will prep you for surgery, and remove the embryo."
Remove the embryo?
Reality was suspended and time stood still for a moment. The doctor was not unkind, but very much to the point. There was no saving this pregnancy, and if we didn't move soon, my own life would be in danger from the impending hemorrhage.
Cardiac activity?
The poor little thing was trying so hard to thrive in an environment that couldn't sustain it. My heart was broken. I knew I was already blessed with 3 children, and I remembered not wanting a fourth. Rationality would tell me that it was just not meant to be, and to go home and be thankful for what I already had. But rationality was not with me on that day, and not for many days to follow.
I signed the papers. I made the appointments. I somehow floated from the office to the car - and then, I truly came unglued. I drove across the street to an empty parking lot - through my grief, I somehow still had the sense not to scare the other preggos by crying hysterically outside of the doctor's office. While parked there, I tried to calm down enough to call my husband and tell him the news. I failed at calm. I was making all kinds of unintelligible sounds, but I'm sure he knew that the news wasn't good.
Somehow I made it home. He made all the arrangements for my mom to come stay with the kids so that he could accompany me to the hospital. He called my best friend because he knew I needed her. She got in the car and drove 8 hours to be with me. Everyone was hurting. All I could do was sob.
The room where you're taken to have your pregnancy "removed" is sadistically the same room where you go when you're going to deliver a baby. I was in a birthing suite. A BIRTHING SUITE. What the damn hell? I had to walk by crying newborns with pink bows on their doors to get to the room where I'd wait to end the cardiac activity occurring within me. It was torture.
Surgery was short (or at least it felt short), and I was back home that evening. All I can remember was crying "I want it back, I want it back." The pregnancy hormones are rough enough post-delivery...to have them on top of coming home with no baby was just a surreal sadness that I can't explain.
I hurt for myself, but also felt a lot of guilt. Guilt because there was nothing I could do for the baby-not-to-be, and guilt for the pain my husband must have felt. But I also felt a different guilt. Millions of women go through this pain, and do not already have 3 children of their own as I do. Many women only know this pain of almost-motherhood without ever knowing the joys of actual-motherhood. I checked with support groups for ectopic pregnancies online, which is where I learned that my experience was dwarfed by that of these other women - women who'd had multiple ectopic pregnancies and still remained childless. I felt like I had no right to be sad b/c of those who were undoubtedly "more sad". I had to get away, so I went home with my best friend for a change of scenery for a few days. It kind of helped me, but it did not help my husband or parents, who were also hurting and wanting to help. Insert more guilt. Nothing I could do was right and nothing I could do would fix this. What I needed was time - and time was standing still.
It took me a few weeks to finally stop crying. I gained 25 pounds and stopped focusing on personal goals I'd had before October. The song "Say Something" was released and I sobbed every time I heard the opening notes. I kept my story mostly to myself and a few folks in the "need-to-know" category. I did this, not because I was embarrassed, but because I didn't want to here the well-wishers and their unwanted comments. Comments like "it is for the best", and "you didn't want any more kids anyway, did you?" - some people feel the need to "say something" (ironically) even when nothing needs to be said.
I moved on the best I could.
In February, we got a LOT of snow. The thing about snow in the South that I find most interesting is NOT the pitiful driving attempts, but the quiet. Without traffic, there is a peace and stillness that is uncanny. It was in this brief moment of nature's noiselessness that I decided to take a quick walk, let "Say Something" blare on my headphones and say goodbye to my little angel. I sent a kiss skyward just in time for my oldest child to wander outside and ask me what was wrong. I desperately wanted a few more moments alone, but I took my son's appearance as a sign that my time was up and to get back to reality. So we got out the sleds and life moved forward.
Since that day, I've cried very little, although that song still stings when it plays (which is all the time). I've had one dream where I had the baby and it was a girl named Amelia. I've never even told my husband this, and he may never know unless he decides to read through this monstrous blog entry. And our angel might have appeared to him differently, if she/he appeared at all. But as for me, I have an angel in heaven. And her name is Amelia.
My 9 months would be up this weekend - so 9 is a number I can't escape for the moment. So far, I'm doing ok. I'm doing really good actually. I let a few tears fall as I've been writing this. I'm sure a few more will fall before the weekend is over. I'll be ok though. I always am.
The number that won't escape my brain currently however, is nine. There are 9 innings in a baseball game, my geek friends can attest to there being 9 Kings in the "Lord of the Rings", golf is divided into the front 9 and the back 9, and even my college sorority has 9 founding members.
The most recognizable "9" though? Ask any mother and she can answer without a moment's contemplation: it's the duration of a pregnancy. It is the countdown until your entire world gets thrown off its current course and onto a new one. It might mean the time in which you change from a couple to a family. Or it could mean the moment when you make your oldest child into a sibling, or doom your second child to become forever a middle child.
I've experienced this miraculous 9 three times now. I'm grateful that each time, I was able to complete the full 9, and I have three lovely (albeit WILD) children to show for it.
This week though, the number 9 renders me tearful. Not all mother's who embark on the journey of 9 are able to see it through. Some are forced to deliver early and must suffer alongside their preemies. And some never make it to the end of the 9 with a baby to show for it. This is where my story begins.
In October 2013, I wasn't quite feeling myself. I recognized the symptoms immediately...late period, sore chest, and an internal nervousness that had no exterior prompting. I was certain something was wrong - I had my "tubes tied" after I delivered my 3rd child, so I couldn't possibly be pregnant. I took a test anyway just to rule it out. The damn thing was positive!
I'll admit it - I cried. And not the happy tears of an excited mother-to-be either. I'm embarrassed now to say that I was just upset to be pregnant. I had lost over 100 pounds after having my last child, and I wasn't prepared to wreck my body again. I already had three kids, who are, some days, three more than I can handle. I was not happy.
I looked up "pregnancy after tubal" and each article had one thing in common - contact your doctor immediately. So I did, and I had an appointment that afternoon. The ultrasound showed a "possible egg sack" in my uterus.
I have strong beliefs about terminating pregnancies just because they're "inconvenient", so that was never even the slightest consideration. I was pregnant and I was going to learn to be happy about it, dammit!
I was told to come back in a week to we could get a more conclusive ultrasound. A week is a LONG time when you are pregnant. I stay at home with my youngest child, so I had no grown-up "work" to distract me. Just me and my laptop and the "Cars 2" disk for the 10 millionth time. I browsed baby bedding, nursery themes, baby names...and I was actually getting excited! My husband was too! I went to the mall where I figured it wouldn't hurt to walk-through "Motherhood Maternity" just to update myself on the latest pregnancy fashions. My husband and I started mentally re-configuring our home to accommodate a nursery for a 4th child.
Then came the day. I hadn't been sick and I had even run a 5k - 2 facts that boggle the mind if you'd been present for my other pregnancies (which were awful). I chalked it up to being healthier. I went to the ultrasound room, not for the cute little ultrasounds you see on television with the jelly on the belly, but the really uncomfortable internal kind they do on early pregnancies. It took FOREVER. It HURT. The ultrasound tech looked concerned, but I didn't even really notice...I just thought maybe she was having a hard time locating my baby because it was still so early. She put my results in a file and sent me out in the hall to wait.
When I was called into the room, the doctor looked un-phased. I awaited her to tell me how far along I was. I figured about 6-8 weeks.
"Well, it's definitely ectopic" she said (meaning in the fallopian tube, not in the uterus where it should be). "See this image on the ultrasound photo? That is blood surrounding the embryo in your fallopian tubes. See that? That's the cardiac activity. What happens next is that you will meet me at the hospital at 3:00 this afternoon, we will prep you for surgery, and remove the embryo."
Remove the embryo?
Reality was suspended and time stood still for a moment. The doctor was not unkind, but very much to the point. There was no saving this pregnancy, and if we didn't move soon, my own life would be in danger from the impending hemorrhage.
Cardiac activity?
The poor little thing was trying so hard to thrive in an environment that couldn't sustain it. My heart was broken. I knew I was already blessed with 3 children, and I remembered not wanting a fourth. Rationality would tell me that it was just not meant to be, and to go home and be thankful for what I already had. But rationality was not with me on that day, and not for many days to follow.
I signed the papers. I made the appointments. I somehow floated from the office to the car - and then, I truly came unglued. I drove across the street to an empty parking lot - through my grief, I somehow still had the sense not to scare the other preggos by crying hysterically outside of the doctor's office. While parked there, I tried to calm down enough to call my husband and tell him the news. I failed at calm. I was making all kinds of unintelligible sounds, but I'm sure he knew that the news wasn't good.
Somehow I made it home. He made all the arrangements for my mom to come stay with the kids so that he could accompany me to the hospital. He called my best friend because he knew I needed her. She got in the car and drove 8 hours to be with me. Everyone was hurting. All I could do was sob.
The room where you're taken to have your pregnancy "removed" is sadistically the same room where you go when you're going to deliver a baby. I was in a birthing suite. A BIRTHING SUITE. What the damn hell? I had to walk by crying newborns with pink bows on their doors to get to the room where I'd wait to end the cardiac activity occurring within me. It was torture.
Surgery was short (or at least it felt short), and I was back home that evening. All I can remember was crying "I want it back, I want it back." The pregnancy hormones are rough enough post-delivery...to have them on top of coming home with no baby was just a surreal sadness that I can't explain.
I hurt for myself, but also felt a lot of guilt. Guilt because there was nothing I could do for the baby-not-to-be, and guilt for the pain my husband must have felt. But I also felt a different guilt. Millions of women go through this pain, and do not already have 3 children of their own as I do. Many women only know this pain of almost-motherhood without ever knowing the joys of actual-motherhood. I checked with support groups for ectopic pregnancies online, which is where I learned that my experience was dwarfed by that of these other women - women who'd had multiple ectopic pregnancies and still remained childless. I felt like I had no right to be sad b/c of those who were undoubtedly "more sad". I had to get away, so I went home with my best friend for a change of scenery for a few days. It kind of helped me, but it did not help my husband or parents, who were also hurting and wanting to help. Insert more guilt. Nothing I could do was right and nothing I could do would fix this. What I needed was time - and time was standing still.
It took me a few weeks to finally stop crying. I gained 25 pounds and stopped focusing on personal goals I'd had before October. The song "Say Something" was released and I sobbed every time I heard the opening notes. I kept my story mostly to myself and a few folks in the "need-to-know" category. I did this, not because I was embarrassed, but because I didn't want to here the well-wishers and their unwanted comments. Comments like "it is for the best", and "you didn't want any more kids anyway, did you?" - some people feel the need to "say something" (ironically) even when nothing needs to be said.
I moved on the best I could.
In February, we got a LOT of snow. The thing about snow in the South that I find most interesting is NOT the pitiful driving attempts, but the quiet. Without traffic, there is a peace and stillness that is uncanny. It was in this brief moment of nature's noiselessness that I decided to take a quick walk, let "Say Something" blare on my headphones and say goodbye to my little angel. I sent a kiss skyward just in time for my oldest child to wander outside and ask me what was wrong. I desperately wanted a few more moments alone, but I took my son's appearance as a sign that my time was up and to get back to reality. So we got out the sleds and life moved forward.
Since that day, I've cried very little, although that song still stings when it plays (which is all the time). I've had one dream where I had the baby and it was a girl named Amelia. I've never even told my husband this, and he may never know unless he decides to read through this monstrous blog entry. And our angel might have appeared to him differently, if she/he appeared at all. But as for me, I have an angel in heaven. And her name is Amelia.
My 9 months would be up this weekend - so 9 is a number I can't escape for the moment. So far, I'm doing ok. I'm doing really good actually. I let a few tears fall as I've been writing this. I'm sure a few more will fall before the weekend is over. I'll be ok though. I always am.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Can you live without Wal-mart?
If you're pressed for time, I'll make this very quick: YES. Yes, you can live without Walmart.
If you have a few more moments to spare, I will provide proof!
It all started when...
I went to Walmart one day to pick up a few groceries. At this stage of my life, I had already learned that my trips to Walmart didn't really save me any money...not after, in addition to the groceries, I added a cd I found on sale, a pack of socks I wasn't sure we really needed, and swimming-goggles for the kids for a vacation we'd be taking...next year. I would usually spend the same amount at Walmart as I did at the regular grocery store - I just came home with more (clutter) for my money.
So, I'm in Walmart, and I picked up what I needed. Then (and this was before the "Walmart receipt challenge") I looked over my receipt to see all my savings. I was in for a surprise. My most purchased, "non-milk & bread" groceries actually cost MORE! I remember specifically paying $2.98 for Nutri-grain bars (which are frequently 2 for $5 at the pricey grocery stores), and they had 12 packs of name brand soda "rollback priced" at $6.97...when at that very moment, a sale across town had the sodas regularly priced at $5.99, buy two get THREE free!
So that trip was very disappointing, and a few other issues began to surface that built my current discontent with the super-chain:
1. Clutter - Clutter can easily accumulate in the homes of Walmart shoppers. How many times have we all picked up a few random things we didn't need because we saw them for a good price? While this is not a Walmart-specific occurance, I can assure you - I've never come home from Food Lion with 2 yards of fabric "because I really want to learn to make my own curtains". Am I EVER going to make my own curtains? Maybe, but probably not. And how long will that fabric sit around wasting usable space in my home? Would I even have been thinking about curtains if I hadn't been in a store that sold fabric beside the paper towels?
I had empty picture frames, cheap holiday decorations, fake "Keds" - all things I didn't need, but bought at Walmart anyway because the price was right. But - if I didn't need them, was the price really right?
2. One word - CHINA. First, let me say that I respect China for its culture and its determination to be a world power. I am sure it is a beautiful country filled with fascinating people. However - I live HERE. People HERE are hurting financially - and currently, the way they ease their money pain is by shopping at Walmart (and the Dollar Store, but that's another topic) and buying things mostly made...IN CHINA! We are perpetuating our own vicious cycle!
I am trying diligently to slow down how much money I personally give to China. If I pick up a white t-shirt, and one costs $5 "Made in China", and one costs $10 but is made in the USA, I suck it up and spend more money for the USA! Sadly though, not everyone is in the position to do this - so China is kicking our economic butts and we're bending over for them.
I tried and failed once in an attempt to purchase a can opener from anywhere but China (and I wasn't even at Walmart). I went to Target and decided I would spend any amount to buy any can opener that was NOT made in China. Guess what? NOT ONE SINGLE can opener of any brand, electric or handheld, was made anywhere other than China. Oh well.
Walmart is infamous for associating with China - I've seen many different statistics as to what percentage of their inventory is "Made in China", which leaves me feeling uncomfortable to quote them for fear of presenting inaccurate information. But just walk through Walmart and pick up almost anything and you will see what I mean.
3. Crowds - Visiting Walmart first thing on a weekday morning, you might not find any crowds. You may actually get a good parking space and have a pleasant shopping experience. Go there any other time of the day though, or worse, during the weekends, and you'll be parking far away, walking through a trashed parking lot, and waiting in long lines to check out. Which brings me to my next issue...
4. Cashiers! - Where are they? I'd see about 15 people stocking the shelves, a very nice old lady who welcomed me as a I walked in, 2-3 people at Customer Service (where many unhappy people are waiting in line)...but for the whole store, there will be only 3 cashiers with lines 4-5 people deep (carts stuffed full) in each! So once they know your cart is full and they have you prisoner with your melting ice cream - they've somehow run out of cashiers to assist you?
Beyond that, I can count more than one occurrence where the cashier has actually told me she has either been denied a break, or has been on her feet for more than 8 hours and was supposed to get off 30 minutes ago. If she HAD gotten off 30 minutes ago - they'd only have TWO cashiers! So in order to have adequate staff, they have to mistreat the cashiers? I don't get it. Which brings me to my next issue...
5. Employee treatment - For many years, Walmart was in the hot seat over alleged mistreatment of its employees, especially its female employees. I have a horror story that happened to a cousin of mine, but since I have not asked her permission, I will not share her story. I tried to find current articles or information to support this, but I didn't see anything that was "big news" after 2006. So I will leave it at this - I don't know if things have changed for the workers of Walmart. If they haven't, then that is reason enough to never go there again.
6. Personal issues: We had Shawn Jr.'s first baby portraits done at a Walmart in Charlotte (which has since closed). We were on a budget and wanted "professional" photos to send to family. THEY LOST THEM and made us come back to retake them...and then we weren't as happy with the end product, yet still had to pay for it.
Another time, we went in for an oil change (different location) and they FORGOT to put the cap back on. When my car started acting up, I stopped into an auto parts store to see if their diagnostics could help me before I had to pay a mechanic. The clerk said "I can literally see the problem and we don't need any diagnostic equipment - your whole engine is covered in oil and your cap is missing." So I returned to Walmart to make them fix their own mistake, and the manager very kindly said he was sorry and gave me three free oil changes. Yay, right? Wrong! When I went back for the "free" oil changes, they would only honor one of them because that manager no longer worked there (type in "Walmart employee turnover rate" into any search engine and you'll understand why this is no surprise to me). Seriously? All I got for all that trouble was the one decent oil changed I'd paid for from the start!
(Sorry, I'd forgotten how angry I was about that! I'll move on now...)
As a side note - You will notice that I have not listed "Community Killer" as one of Walmart's faults. The discount giant is constantly accused of killing the small businesses with unrealistic price comparisons. This is not one of my reasons for disliking Walmart and here's why: WE KILLED THE SMALL BUSINESSES by choosing to shop at Walmart. Walmart does what all companies do - they try to grow, increase their revenue and make their stock holders happy. But it is you and I who make the decision where we will shop - and we shopped at Walmart because they were cheaper. Then we cried when our local grocer went out of business and now complain about the empty storefront where the local grocer used to be.
In short - we are killing our own communities to save pennies on the dollar and I blame us for that; not Walmart.
For all these reasons, I decided to go on strike - no Walmart for one year...just to see if it could be done. It can.
My Year Without Walmart...
There were only a handful of times we had any issues with it - times when grocery stores are closed and you think you "need" something, times when you need multiple items and do not have time to travel to multiple stores, and when you're out with friends and they just need to run in Walmart for a quick second with you along for the ride. Truth be told, my husband DID go to Walmart a few times during the year (against his wife's wishes!), and I did enter the store from time to time if I was with friends who needed to stop in for just a couple things. However, I MYSELF did not purchase a single thing in any Walmart store for 12 months solid.
My year without Walmart was in a word, uneventful. I didn't miss it, we didn't go broke, and we didn't have to do without anything. I felt better supporting other entities and much less stress at the check-out counter. We handled all the major holidays and birthdays, school projects, illnesses, oil changes, photo printing, and clothes shopping perfectly fine without Walmart.
Does Walmart actually save you THAT MUCH money?
Today, I went on a mission: I searched 4 local grocery stores including Wal-Mart for 15 items I typically buy and compared the prices. I shopped for the following items:
Nutri-grain Bars
Cheerios (14 oz.)
Quaker Oatmeal (individual packets)
*Frozen, cooked Shrimp (16 oz.)
Weight Watchers frozen Entrees
Kraft Shredded Cheddar (7 oz.)
12-pack Coca-Cola products
Goldfish crackers
**Ortega Whole Grain Taco Kits
Mott's for Tots juice
Skim Milk (store brand)
Bread (cheapest loaf, store brand)
***Bread (Merita SmartWheat or SmartWhite)
8 Pack of Juicy Juice boxes (6.75 oz.)
Fiber One 90 calorie bars
The stores I shopped:
Walmart
Harris Teeter
Target
Food Lion
The results:
1. *I had to throw out the results for the frozen shrimp because not all stores had a 16 oz. bag.
**I deleted the Merita bread (which is a staple of mine) from the results because Walmart didn't carry it and Harris Teeter was currently out of stock.
***I also had to delete the Ortega whole grain taco kit (another staple to which I'm typically brand loyal) because Walmart and Food Lion don't carry Ortega kits at all.
2. In Walmart's defense - most items were, in fact, cheaper. ONE CENT CHEAPER. ALSO, the prices seemed static - meaning that they weren't on sale today to be potentially marked back up tomorrow.
3. All four take coupons.
4. Walmart also honors a "lowest price guarantee" IF you can produce an advertisement with the lower price IN PRINT. I admit that I didn't attempt to ask if they would match other prices based purely on my word - Walmart is supposed to be the great time-saver, having everything you need under one roof, so fitting in time to negotiate prices with management does not fit the time-saving model.
5. Harris Teeter doubles and sometimes TRIPLES coupons.
6. Walmart was NOT THE CHEAPEST for the remaining 12 items on my list! I went, not by the regular prices, but by what I would have spent TODAY only. Here are the comparisons if I bought these 12 items today, Thursday, May 10, 2012:
Walmart
$32.03
Harris Teeter
$39.87
Target
$29.56
Food Lion
$36.24
Due to in-store specials, Target was the cheapest by at least $2.47!
A few other facts:
1. The cheapest milk today was actually at Harris Teeter - on sale for $2.77, compared to Walmart's next cheapest at $3.48
2. Harris Teeter's 12 packs of Coca-Cola were buy 3 get 2 free, however if I only wanted to buy one, I would have to pay the regular price of $6.39, compared to Walmart's lower price of $3.98, and Target's sale price of 4/$11 (or $2.75 each!).
3. Food Lion had the cheapest Quaker Oatmeal (on sale 2/$4), but had the most expensive milk ($4.08).
4. Harris Teeter was the most expensive on 8 of the 12 items.
5. Walmart's prices were lowest on 10 out of the 12 items, but typically by 1-3 cents only.
If you have a few more moments to spare, I will provide proof!
It all started when...
I went to Walmart one day to pick up a few groceries. At this stage of my life, I had already learned that my trips to Walmart didn't really save me any money...not after, in addition to the groceries, I added a cd I found on sale, a pack of socks I wasn't sure we really needed, and swimming-goggles for the kids for a vacation we'd be taking...next year. I would usually spend the same amount at Walmart as I did at the regular grocery store - I just came home with more (clutter) for my money.
So, I'm in Walmart, and I picked up what I needed. Then (and this was before the "Walmart receipt challenge") I looked over my receipt to see all my savings. I was in for a surprise. My most purchased, "non-milk & bread" groceries actually cost MORE! I remember specifically paying $2.98 for Nutri-grain bars (which are frequently 2 for $5 at the pricey grocery stores), and they had 12 packs of name brand soda "rollback priced" at $6.97...when at that very moment, a sale across town had the sodas regularly priced at $5.99, buy two get THREE free!
So that trip was very disappointing, and a few other issues began to surface that built my current discontent with the super-chain:
1. Clutter - Clutter can easily accumulate in the homes of Walmart shoppers. How many times have we all picked up a few random things we didn't need because we saw them for a good price? While this is not a Walmart-specific occurance, I can assure you - I've never come home from Food Lion with 2 yards of fabric "because I really want to learn to make my own curtains". Am I EVER going to make my own curtains? Maybe, but probably not. And how long will that fabric sit around wasting usable space in my home? Would I even have been thinking about curtains if I hadn't been in a store that sold fabric beside the paper towels?
I had empty picture frames, cheap holiday decorations, fake "Keds" - all things I didn't need, but bought at Walmart anyway because the price was right. But - if I didn't need them, was the price really right?
2. One word - CHINA. First, let me say that I respect China for its culture and its determination to be a world power. I am sure it is a beautiful country filled with fascinating people. However - I live HERE. People HERE are hurting financially - and currently, the way they ease their money pain is by shopping at Walmart (and the Dollar Store, but that's another topic) and buying things mostly made...IN CHINA! We are perpetuating our own vicious cycle!
I am trying diligently to slow down how much money I personally give to China. If I pick up a white t-shirt, and one costs $5 "Made in China", and one costs $10 but is made in the USA, I suck it up and spend more money for the USA! Sadly though, not everyone is in the position to do this - so China is kicking our economic butts and we're bending over for them.
I tried and failed once in an attempt to purchase a can opener from anywhere but China (and I wasn't even at Walmart). I went to Target and decided I would spend any amount to buy any can opener that was NOT made in China. Guess what? NOT ONE SINGLE can opener of any brand, electric or handheld, was made anywhere other than China. Oh well.
Walmart is infamous for associating with China - I've seen many different statistics as to what percentage of their inventory is "Made in China", which leaves me feeling uncomfortable to quote them for fear of presenting inaccurate information. But just walk through Walmart and pick up almost anything and you will see what I mean.
3. Crowds - Visiting Walmart first thing on a weekday morning, you might not find any crowds. You may actually get a good parking space and have a pleasant shopping experience. Go there any other time of the day though, or worse, during the weekends, and you'll be parking far away, walking through a trashed parking lot, and waiting in long lines to check out. Which brings me to my next issue...
4. Cashiers! - Where are they? I'd see about 15 people stocking the shelves, a very nice old lady who welcomed me as a I walked in, 2-3 people at Customer Service (where many unhappy people are waiting in line)...but for the whole store, there will be only 3 cashiers with lines 4-5 people deep (carts stuffed full) in each! So once they know your cart is full and they have you prisoner with your melting ice cream - they've somehow run out of cashiers to assist you?
Beyond that, I can count more than one occurrence where the cashier has actually told me she has either been denied a break, or has been on her feet for more than 8 hours and was supposed to get off 30 minutes ago. If she HAD gotten off 30 minutes ago - they'd only have TWO cashiers! So in order to have adequate staff, they have to mistreat the cashiers? I don't get it. Which brings me to my next issue...
5. Employee treatment - For many years, Walmart was in the hot seat over alleged mistreatment of its employees, especially its female employees. I have a horror story that happened to a cousin of mine, but since I have not asked her permission, I will not share her story. I tried to find current articles or information to support this, but I didn't see anything that was "big news" after 2006. So I will leave it at this - I don't know if things have changed for the workers of Walmart. If they haven't, then that is reason enough to never go there again.
6. Personal issues: We had Shawn Jr.'s first baby portraits done at a Walmart in Charlotte (which has since closed). We were on a budget and wanted "professional" photos to send to family. THEY LOST THEM and made us come back to retake them...and then we weren't as happy with the end product, yet still had to pay for it.
Another time, we went in for an oil change (different location) and they FORGOT to put the cap back on. When my car started acting up, I stopped into an auto parts store to see if their diagnostics could help me before I had to pay a mechanic. The clerk said "I can literally see the problem and we don't need any diagnostic equipment - your whole engine is covered in oil and your cap is missing." So I returned to Walmart to make them fix their own mistake, and the manager very kindly said he was sorry and gave me three free oil changes. Yay, right? Wrong! When I went back for the "free" oil changes, they would only honor one of them because that manager no longer worked there (type in "Walmart employee turnover rate" into any search engine and you'll understand why this is no surprise to me). Seriously? All I got for all that trouble was the one decent oil changed I'd paid for from the start!
(Sorry, I'd forgotten how angry I was about that! I'll move on now...)
As a side note - You will notice that I have not listed "Community Killer" as one of Walmart's faults. The discount giant is constantly accused of killing the small businesses with unrealistic price comparisons. This is not one of my reasons for disliking Walmart and here's why: WE KILLED THE SMALL BUSINESSES by choosing to shop at Walmart. Walmart does what all companies do - they try to grow, increase their revenue and make their stock holders happy. But it is you and I who make the decision where we will shop - and we shopped at Walmart because they were cheaper. Then we cried when our local grocer went out of business and now complain about the empty storefront where the local grocer used to be.
In short - we are killing our own communities to save pennies on the dollar and I blame us for that; not Walmart.
For all these reasons, I decided to go on strike - no Walmart for one year...just to see if it could be done. It can.
My Year Without Walmart...
There were only a handful of times we had any issues with it - times when grocery stores are closed and you think you "need" something, times when you need multiple items and do not have time to travel to multiple stores, and when you're out with friends and they just need to run in Walmart for a quick second with you along for the ride. Truth be told, my husband DID go to Walmart a few times during the year (against his wife's wishes!), and I did enter the store from time to time if I was with friends who needed to stop in for just a couple things. However, I MYSELF did not purchase a single thing in any Walmart store for 12 months solid.
My year without Walmart was in a word, uneventful. I didn't miss it, we didn't go broke, and we didn't have to do without anything. I felt better supporting other entities and much less stress at the check-out counter. We handled all the major holidays and birthdays, school projects, illnesses, oil changes, photo printing, and clothes shopping perfectly fine without Walmart.
Does Walmart actually save you THAT MUCH money?
Today, I went on a mission: I searched 4 local grocery stores including Wal-Mart for 15 items I typically buy and compared the prices. I shopped for the following items:
Nutri-grain Bars
Cheerios (14 oz.)
Quaker Oatmeal (individual packets)
*Frozen, cooked Shrimp (16 oz.)
Weight Watchers frozen Entrees
Kraft Shredded Cheddar (7 oz.)
12-pack Coca-Cola products
Goldfish crackers
**Ortega Whole Grain Taco Kits
Mott's for Tots juice
Skim Milk (store brand)
Bread (cheapest loaf, store brand)
***Bread (Merita SmartWheat or SmartWhite)
8 Pack of Juicy Juice boxes (6.75 oz.)
Fiber One 90 calorie bars
The stores I shopped:
Walmart
Harris Teeter
Target
Food Lion
The results:
1. *I had to throw out the results for the frozen shrimp because not all stores had a 16 oz. bag.
**I deleted the Merita bread (which is a staple of mine) from the results because Walmart didn't carry it and Harris Teeter was currently out of stock.
***I also had to delete the Ortega whole grain taco kit (another staple to which I'm typically brand loyal) because Walmart and Food Lion don't carry Ortega kits at all.
2. In Walmart's defense - most items were, in fact, cheaper. ONE CENT CHEAPER. ALSO, the prices seemed static - meaning that they weren't on sale today to be potentially marked back up tomorrow.
3. All four take coupons.
4. Walmart also honors a "lowest price guarantee" IF you can produce an advertisement with the lower price IN PRINT. I admit that I didn't attempt to ask if they would match other prices based purely on my word - Walmart is supposed to be the great time-saver, having everything you need under one roof, so fitting in time to negotiate prices with management does not fit the time-saving model.
5. Harris Teeter doubles and sometimes TRIPLES coupons.
6. Walmart was NOT THE CHEAPEST for the remaining 12 items on my list! I went, not by the regular prices, but by what I would have spent TODAY only. Here are the comparisons if I bought these 12 items today, Thursday, May 10, 2012:
Walmart
$32.03
Harris Teeter
$39.87
Target
$29.56
Food Lion
$36.24
Due to in-store specials, Target was the cheapest by at least $2.47!
A few other facts:
1. The cheapest milk today was actually at Harris Teeter - on sale for $2.77, compared to Walmart's next cheapest at $3.48
2. Harris Teeter's 12 packs of Coca-Cola were buy 3 get 2 free, however if I only wanted to buy one, I would have to pay the regular price of $6.39, compared to Walmart's lower price of $3.98, and Target's sale price of 4/$11 (or $2.75 each!).
3. Food Lion had the cheapest Quaker Oatmeal (on sale 2/$4), but had the most expensive milk ($4.08).
4. Harris Teeter was the most expensive on 8 of the 12 items.
5. Walmart's prices were lowest on 10 out of the 12 items, but typically by 1-3 cents only.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Where I went to lose 100 pounds
When you need to lose 100 pounds, where can you go?
I'd heard of it before. It was a place I'd associated with shame, a place I'd associated with those who'd let their lives get out of control, a place where idiots with "no fat chicks" stickers on their trucks would go to get a good laugh. I'm talking about "fat camp".
I did NOT go there to lose 100 pounds.
There are physicians who can help you when you're considered "obese". They can perform surgeries, give you shots, insert devices into your body to control your hunger.
I did NOT go there to lose 100 pounds.
I went...
...to my kitchen.
I controlled my portions. I made healthier choices. I ate mainly what my body needed and not what my sweet tooth craved. Most importantly though, I had support and I had help.
The support came from all directions - and it was immediate as soon as I admitted that I knew I needed a change. I signed up with Weight Watchers, and instead of hiding it, I let all of my close friends and family know. My family has been on this journey with me - trying new foods, accepting that junk foods would not be readily available, and choosing restaurants based on where I could eat and stay focused on my goals.
My Weight Watchers "family" has provided further support...they provide accountability, meal ideas, and the constant reminder that I'm not alone on this journey.
It can't just be about what you're doing. It has to be about who you've become.
Weight Watchers, to me, is not something I "joined". It is not something I'm "doing". It is the help I needed to get control of my own life, my own body and my own bad habits. But let me make one thing very clear - Weight Watchers did not lose 100 pounds. I DID. Weight Watchers did not cook for me. Weight Watchers did not follow me around and go out to eat with me. Weight Watchers did not grocery shop for me. All WW provided were tools for me to do this MYSELF.
The first time I walked into Weight Watchers, I wanted to cry (I think I did!). They were closing for the day and I knew if I walked out the door I wouldn't return. Thankfully, the staff let me sign up and walked me through the program - they stayed a few minutes later than scheduled and those few moments probably saved my life. I doubt they'll ever truly grasp how thankful I am for the few moments they spared me that Saturday afternoon.
I lost weight SLOWLY. 1 pound here, 2 pounds there, and then I'd gain some back. Month after month, this was the routine. Then we'd celebrate because I'd lost 5% of my body weight. Then 10%. A few months later, we celebrated 50 pounds!
To be honest, I didn't enjoy the celebrations - I didn't like the spotlight being on me (I still don't!). I felt as though I should never have let myself get to a place where I even needed to lose 50 pounds. I was still ashamed and embarrassed, despite my accomplishments. The only reason I allowed the group to celebrate is that I hoped maybe I was inspiring someone - maybe someone else was fighting my same battle and if they saw me do it, they would believe that they could do the same.
Then I lost 65 pounds...the wardrobe I started with was completely gone. The jeans I'd held onto since 1999 fit again. Dressing rooms were now places of exhilaration as smaller and smaller sizes began to fit, and shopping for myself was actually fun! I was getting around so much easier and faster - it finally occurred to me that 36 wasn't as "old" as it had felt. I was getting "carded" again at restaurants. I was getting second glances from strange men. I started to feel my self power return.
Do you have to lose yourself to find yourself?
Where had this person gone? The whole time I was at my largest, I still thought I was "me". To some extent, I've always been "me", but I'd forgotten part of who that was. I'd grown up a moderately confident woman, and though I'd kept on at least 20 pounds after each of 3 pregnancies, I would tell myself I was a good person, a good mother, a good wife, and that I was doing all I could do.
People think "society" and "the media" teach us to hate ourselves - and I think the contrary is becoming more and more true - that a different sect of society is teaching us to praise our smallest accomplishments and stop "kicking ourselves" all the time - we're doing the best we can, aren't we?
Well, what if we're not? What if what I need is a swift kick in the butt and the only person not afraid to kick my butt is me? What if someone needs to say, "no, Leilani, you are most certainly NOT doing the BEST you can do. You are capable of more and better things. Do them. Do them NOW." So I shut out the voices who were telling me that I was "fine" and started losing the weight that was suppressing my confidence.
100 Pounds Lighter
Soon my 1999 jeans were too big, then the size down from those was too big, and now the size down from THAT is getting a little roomy! I've never been a tiny person, and I don't have any plans to be tiny now. I want to be curvy and healthy. I want to look like a woman - the kind you think of when you picture soft beauty. I do not want to be a supermodel and I do not want to look like someone who could kick your ass in a dark alley.
100 pounds lighter, I do not feel like a "new" me - I feel like an improved version of the original me. I feel like I'm closer to the image God had in mind when he created me. I feel like I'm a better example to my children. I feel like I'm more deserving of my husband.
100 pounds lighter, I'm now upset when people ask me how much weight I've lost because I feel like they're asking "damn, how fat were you?" I hope they find me an inspiration, but I will forever fear they're only asking about my weight loss because they want to make fun of me. I'm finally fairly happy being me - and some people just don't like it when you're happy with yourself.
It is largely my own fear that leads me to think people are not happy for me, but laughing at me. That last part, the shame of the years of feeling like the biggest person in the room (whether I was or not), will be my last hurdle to overcome; and it will be much more difficult then losing my last few pounds and fitting comfortably into a size 8.
NOW WHAT?
My journey continues, and I have 18 pounds to go before I can be considered an "ideal" weight for my height. I will never "go off" Weight Watchers - portion control must be a part of my life forever and I'm ok with that. I'm actually hoping to work for WW so that I can help others who have been in my place - and I can help them learn the power of doing it THEMSELVES.
So now I've bared my soul - shared my dirty laundry with the world. I can only hope that it meant something to someone - that my triumphs and struggles, embarrassing moments and proud moments can bring others to a place where they too desire something better for themselves than their status quo. Start somewhere. Do something!
If I'd done nothing, then I shudder to think how many pounds I'd need to lose now!
I'd heard of it before. It was a place I'd associated with shame, a place I'd associated with those who'd let their lives get out of control, a place where idiots with "no fat chicks" stickers on their trucks would go to get a good laugh. I'm talking about "fat camp".
I did NOT go there to lose 100 pounds.
There are physicians who can help you when you're considered "obese". They can perform surgeries, give you shots, insert devices into your body to control your hunger.
I did NOT go there to lose 100 pounds.
I went...
...to my kitchen.
I controlled my portions. I made healthier choices. I ate mainly what my body needed and not what my sweet tooth craved. Most importantly though, I had support and I had help.
The support came from all directions - and it was immediate as soon as I admitted that I knew I needed a change. I signed up with Weight Watchers, and instead of hiding it, I let all of my close friends and family know. My family has been on this journey with me - trying new foods, accepting that junk foods would not be readily available, and choosing restaurants based on where I could eat and stay focused on my goals.
My Weight Watchers "family" has provided further support...they provide accountability, meal ideas, and the constant reminder that I'm not alone on this journey.
It can't just be about what you're doing. It has to be about who you've become.
Weight Watchers, to me, is not something I "joined". It is not something I'm "doing". It is the help I needed to get control of my own life, my own body and my own bad habits. But let me make one thing very clear - Weight Watchers did not lose 100 pounds. I DID. Weight Watchers did not cook for me. Weight Watchers did not follow me around and go out to eat with me. Weight Watchers did not grocery shop for me. All WW provided were tools for me to do this MYSELF.
The first time I walked into Weight Watchers, I wanted to cry (I think I did!). They were closing for the day and I knew if I walked out the door I wouldn't return. Thankfully, the staff let me sign up and walked me through the program - they stayed a few minutes later than scheduled and those few moments probably saved my life. I doubt they'll ever truly grasp how thankful I am for the few moments they spared me that Saturday afternoon.
I lost weight SLOWLY. 1 pound here, 2 pounds there, and then I'd gain some back. Month after month, this was the routine. Then we'd celebrate because I'd lost 5% of my body weight. Then 10%. A few months later, we celebrated 50 pounds!
To be honest, I didn't enjoy the celebrations - I didn't like the spotlight being on me (I still don't!). I felt as though I should never have let myself get to a place where I even needed to lose 50 pounds. I was still ashamed and embarrassed, despite my accomplishments. The only reason I allowed the group to celebrate is that I hoped maybe I was inspiring someone - maybe someone else was fighting my same battle and if they saw me do it, they would believe that they could do the same.
Then I lost 65 pounds...the wardrobe I started with was completely gone. The jeans I'd held onto since 1999 fit again. Dressing rooms were now places of exhilaration as smaller and smaller sizes began to fit, and shopping for myself was actually fun! I was getting around so much easier and faster - it finally occurred to me that 36 wasn't as "old" as it had felt. I was getting "carded" again at restaurants. I was getting second glances from strange men. I started to feel my self power return.
Do you have to lose yourself to find yourself?
Where had this person gone? The whole time I was at my largest, I still thought I was "me". To some extent, I've always been "me", but I'd forgotten part of who that was. I'd grown up a moderately confident woman, and though I'd kept on at least 20 pounds after each of 3 pregnancies, I would tell myself I was a good person, a good mother, a good wife, and that I was doing all I could do.
People think "society" and "the media" teach us to hate ourselves - and I think the contrary is becoming more and more true - that a different sect of society is teaching us to praise our smallest accomplishments and stop "kicking ourselves" all the time - we're doing the best we can, aren't we?
Well, what if we're not? What if what I need is a swift kick in the butt and the only person not afraid to kick my butt is me? What if someone needs to say, "no, Leilani, you are most certainly NOT doing the BEST you can do. You are capable of more and better things. Do them. Do them NOW." So I shut out the voices who were telling me that I was "fine" and started losing the weight that was suppressing my confidence.
100 Pounds Lighter
Soon my 1999 jeans were too big, then the size down from those was too big, and now the size down from THAT is getting a little roomy! I've never been a tiny person, and I don't have any plans to be tiny now. I want to be curvy and healthy. I want to look like a woman - the kind you think of when you picture soft beauty. I do not want to be a supermodel and I do not want to look like someone who could kick your ass in a dark alley.
100 pounds lighter, I do not feel like a "new" me - I feel like an improved version of the original me. I feel like I'm closer to the image God had in mind when he created me. I feel like I'm a better example to my children. I feel like I'm more deserving of my husband.
100 pounds lighter, I'm now upset when people ask me how much weight I've lost because I feel like they're asking "damn, how fat were you?" I hope they find me an inspiration, but I will forever fear they're only asking about my weight loss because they want to make fun of me. I'm finally fairly happy being me - and some people just don't like it when you're happy with yourself.
It is largely my own fear that leads me to think people are not happy for me, but laughing at me. That last part, the shame of the years of feeling like the biggest person in the room (whether I was or not), will be my last hurdle to overcome; and it will be much more difficult then losing my last few pounds and fitting comfortably into a size 8.
NOW WHAT?
My journey continues, and I have 18 pounds to go before I can be considered an "ideal" weight for my height. I will never "go off" Weight Watchers - portion control must be a part of my life forever and I'm ok with that. I'm actually hoping to work for WW so that I can help others who have been in my place - and I can help them learn the power of doing it THEMSELVES.
So now I've bared my soul - shared my dirty laundry with the world. I can only hope that it meant something to someone - that my triumphs and struggles, embarrassing moments and proud moments can bring others to a place where they too desire something better for themselves than their status quo. Start somewhere. Do something!
If I'd done nothing, then I shudder to think how many pounds I'd need to lose now!
At the beginning of my journey...God bless Shawn for loving me no matter what!!!
60 pounds lighter on our 10th Anniversary European Cruise
100 pounds lighter!!!
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Over-programmed and proud of it!
There are many things I swore I'd never do. I'd never be a minivan-momma. I'd never be a "30-something" reading "Twilight" books. I'd never be a soccer mom.
I am currently all of these things!
In my defense, I have to drive a minivan - we have 3 children. Further, I feel completely justified reading "Twilight" (and its series sisters "New Moon", "Eclipse", and "Breaking Dawn"). They are excellent books!
I had a moment's trouble with the title "Soccer Mom" though. I find no fault with soccer, nor with me driving my child to and from practice/games. With the addition of soccer however, came the realization that my family was officially over-programmed. We have some sort of activity almost every single day! Including weekends!
My advice to myself and to you - embrace the chaos of an overprogrammed- life!
We have so many things going on that are GOOD, that we don't really have time for much that is what I like to call "the UNgood".
"Ungood" vs. "bad"
Ungood - sitting on the couch for hours, watching too much TV, playing too many video games, and eating too much from sheer boredom. Behaviors that are undesirable, but not dangerous in any obvious way.
Bad - drugs, underage drinking, stealing, smoking, fighting, etc.
I hope our overprogrammed life is protecting from both the ungood and the bad. I hope having my daughter at ballet 3 times a week will keep her from becoming a couch potato queen and will fill her with grace and strength. I hope my son burns some energy on his soccer field and gains skills and friendships through Boy Scouts. Even the baby can learn support for family by being our captive prisoner as we travel from activity to activity - and occasionally he even gets an activity of his own!
We've added charity walks - showing our children that we are a family who cares about other people (and fitness!). We've added NFL and NCAA football games - which will get us out of the house and which we will enjoy as a family. And we've added out-of-state travel to meet our new nephew...and show our children the importance of knowing and supporting family. We've even started being regular attendees at church, hopefully giving our children a sense of community and faith in something larger than themselves. Everything we've added to make our lives a hectic mess is also simultaneously making us better people - stronger, kinder, more interesting people.
Yes, I do get tired of driving all the time to activities that hold no personal interest for me. My cooking some days makes Hamburger Helper look like gourmet cuisine. The cleanliness of my home might make Martha Stewart elect to go back to prison.
But I leave you with this question:
Would you rather have a neat home and a predictable, but possibly boring, existence?
OR interesting and productive chaos?
As for me - I'm trying to find a balance between the two. It will have to wait until next year though. We're all booked.
I am currently all of these things!
In my defense, I have to drive a minivan - we have 3 children. Further, I feel completely justified reading "Twilight" (and its series sisters "New Moon", "Eclipse", and "Breaking Dawn"). They are excellent books!
I had a moment's trouble with the title "Soccer Mom" though. I find no fault with soccer, nor with me driving my child to and from practice/games. With the addition of soccer however, came the realization that my family was officially over-programmed. We have some sort of activity almost every single day! Including weekends!
My advice to myself and to you - embrace the chaos of an overprogrammed- life!
We have so many things going on that are GOOD, that we don't really have time for much that is what I like to call "the UNgood".
"Ungood" vs. "bad"
Ungood - sitting on the couch for hours, watching too much TV, playing too many video games, and eating too much from sheer boredom. Behaviors that are undesirable, but not dangerous in any obvious way.
Bad - drugs, underage drinking, stealing, smoking, fighting, etc.
I hope our overprogrammed life is protecting from both the ungood and the bad. I hope having my daughter at ballet 3 times a week will keep her from becoming a couch potato queen and will fill her with grace and strength. I hope my son burns some energy on his soccer field and gains skills and friendships through Boy Scouts. Even the baby can learn support for family by being our captive prisoner as we travel from activity to activity - and occasionally he even gets an activity of his own!
We've added charity walks - showing our children that we are a family who cares about other people (and fitness!). We've added NFL and NCAA football games - which will get us out of the house and which we will enjoy as a family. And we've added out-of-state travel to meet our new nephew...and show our children the importance of knowing and supporting family. We've even started being regular attendees at church, hopefully giving our children a sense of community and faith in something larger than themselves. Everything we've added to make our lives a hectic mess is also simultaneously making us better people - stronger, kinder, more interesting people.
Yes, I do get tired of driving all the time to activities that hold no personal interest for me. My cooking some days makes Hamburger Helper look like gourmet cuisine. The cleanliness of my home might make Martha Stewart elect to go back to prison.
But I leave you with this question:
Would you rather have a neat home and a predictable, but possibly boring, existence?
OR interesting and productive chaos?
As for me - I'm trying to find a balance between the two. It will have to wait until next year though. We're all booked.
Friday, August 26, 2011
You're being watched!
There is someone watching you! I'm serious! They have been watching you for years and you don't even know it. They know when you go to bed, what you watch on tv, where you sleep and what you eat. They can very easily steal your credit card number, your car, your jewelry...or your heart.
I'm talking about...
your children.
I realized I was being watched a little over a year ago. I had given birth to our 3rd (and last!) child and I had gained a LOT of weight. A few months after baby Kyle was born, I was shocked (ok, not really shocked) to learn that I was at my highest non-pregnant weight ever. My doctor looked at me (again) and said (again) "you know you need to lose some weight". To which I replied (again) "yes, I know."
A few weeks later, I joined Weight Watchers. It seemed like a plan I could follow. I don't mind measuring and counting and it was certainly a better alternative to major bariatric surgery. This is also when I began to notice that I had a stalker who watched my every move - my 7 year old daughter.
She would ask me what I was doing. She asked if she could help in the kitchen. She read my WW books and let me know when a certain food had too many PointsPlus. I was happy she was interested and thought maybe the good thing I had done for my own life might also have a positive impact on hers. I was losing weight while simultaneously being a FABULOUS mom! I was in awe of my own greatness!
Then it occurred to me - she didn't just start watching me; she has been watching me all along. She sees how much time I spend on Facebook, what shows I record on the DVR (that she is not allowed to watch), what I wear to drive her to school - and when I "sneak" a 2nd cupcake, she sees it and she wants one too. What am I teaching her about mental and physical health?
My 9 year old son has been watching me too. He sees me with one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on my cell phone. He sees me speeding on the interstate and running yellow (ok, red) lights in town. And on a deeper level, he is forming his first thoughts and opinions about women by watching what I'm doing. When I spend money we don't have on things we don't need, when I leave the house and I'm looking barely presentable because I was too lazy to "fix" myself that day - he could be processing these things as acceptable female attributes. What kind of wife is he going to seek based on what he is learning from me?
Am I setting a good enough example for my children?
It is important to me that I "train" my children to be positive, productive members of society. I want them to be healthy, happy and self-confident. I want what we all want when we have children - for things to be better and easier for them than they were for us. After being stalked by the little buggers, I'm realizing that I can't just want these things - I have to manifest them. I have to live a good life so that they can see what a good life looks like!
One of my movie heroes, Yoda (of Star Wars fame), says "TRY not. DO. Or do not. There is no try." Yoda is a genius. He is also a fictional and very powerful Jedi master, which I, sadly, am not. So I try. Each day I try. I try to eat healthier, spend smarter, drive safer and live better. I fail at times - I still shop, I still talk on the phone while driving, and I fail frequently at eating healthier, especially if there are tortilla chips and margaritas involved (the villains!). The point is - I'm aware that I'm being watched. I know they are tracking me and God help me, I'm going to put on a better show for my little stalkers from now on.
I'm talking about...
your children.
I realized I was being watched a little over a year ago. I had given birth to our 3rd (and last!) child and I had gained a LOT of weight. A few months after baby Kyle was born, I was shocked (ok, not really shocked) to learn that I was at my highest non-pregnant weight ever. My doctor looked at me (again) and said (again) "you know you need to lose some weight". To which I replied (again) "yes, I know."
A few weeks later, I joined Weight Watchers. It seemed like a plan I could follow. I don't mind measuring and counting and it was certainly a better alternative to major bariatric surgery. This is also when I began to notice that I had a stalker who watched my every move - my 7 year old daughter.
She would ask me what I was doing. She asked if she could help in the kitchen. She read my WW books and let me know when a certain food had too many PointsPlus. I was happy she was interested and thought maybe the good thing I had done for my own life might also have a positive impact on hers. I was losing weight while simultaneously being a FABULOUS mom! I was in awe of my own greatness!
Then it occurred to me - she didn't just start watching me; she has been watching me all along. She sees how much time I spend on Facebook, what shows I record on the DVR (that she is not allowed to watch), what I wear to drive her to school - and when I "sneak" a 2nd cupcake, she sees it and she wants one too. What am I teaching her about mental and physical health?
My 9 year old son has been watching me too. He sees me with one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on my cell phone. He sees me speeding on the interstate and running yellow (ok, red) lights in town. And on a deeper level, he is forming his first thoughts and opinions about women by watching what I'm doing. When I spend money we don't have on things we don't need, when I leave the house and I'm looking barely presentable because I was too lazy to "fix" myself that day - he could be processing these things as acceptable female attributes. What kind of wife is he going to seek based on what he is learning from me?
Am I setting a good enough example for my children?
It is important to me that I "train" my children to be positive, productive members of society. I want them to be healthy, happy and self-confident. I want what we all want when we have children - for things to be better and easier for them than they were for us. After being stalked by the little buggers, I'm realizing that I can't just want these things - I have to manifest them. I have to live a good life so that they can see what a good life looks like!
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Be a user!
We purchase items to maintain our homes & lives. Some of these items are not true necessities, but things we intend to use to make a small sector of our lives a little bit better. Products like "Febreeze" are bought to help our home smell lovely (or hide the fact that our home, in fact, never smells lovely!). Products like "Dryel" can help save money on dry cleaning while still allowing us to have good fabrics in our wardrobe. Most of us also have a drawer or cabinet where we keep things like candles, pretty serving dishes, and "the good napkins", which we save only for guests.
I myself have an entire cabinet devoted to party supplies. I don't entertain much, but for some reason I cannot resist themed napkins, funky drink stirrers, and little wine glass charms to help seperate my wine glass from yours (which I don't really need - my glass is usually the empty one that needs a refill!). About four years ago, I purchased some little teacup shaped votive holders (photo below) because they were,and I quote, "too cute not to buy". I decided my new friends and I would most definitely use them for a tea party for our little girls. Then we waited. We waited for one of the girls to get a little older. We waited for Summer. We waited for Spring. We waited for schedules to align. The sad fact was - we waited four years.
So this brings us to today's tip for your better life - USE THINGS! You bought them to make a small portion of your life better - and then may have forgotten that you did this nice thing for yourself. Why are you hoarding the Febreeze? Trust me - if it runs out, Target will be happy to sell you another bottle. For what occasion are you saving the candles? or the fine china? or the good (and usually washable!) napkins? Use the good stuff - your family is worth it. YOU are worth it. And, as an added bonus, using these things will begin to free up the space they've been monopolizing in your cabinets and on your shelves.
Your better life awaits you and you probably already have some of the items you need to get started. I made my daughter's life better (and inherently my own) by using the things I already had to throw a lovely tea party for her and her friends. I stopped waiting for the right moment to make our lives better. I used things. And I'm proud of it.
We even used the good china.
I myself have an entire cabinet devoted to party supplies. I don't entertain much, but for some reason I cannot resist themed napkins, funky drink stirrers, and little wine glass charms to help seperate my wine glass from yours (which I don't really need - my glass is usually the empty one that needs a refill!). About four years ago, I purchased some little teacup shaped votive holders (photo below) because they were,and I quote, "too cute not to buy". I decided my new friends and I would most definitely use them for a tea party for our little girls. Then we waited. We waited for one of the girls to get a little older. We waited for Summer. We waited for Spring. We waited for schedules to align. The sad fact was - we waited four years.
So this brings us to today's tip for your better life - USE THINGS! You bought them to make a small portion of your life better - and then may have forgotten that you did this nice thing for yourself. Why are you hoarding the Febreeze? Trust me - if it runs out, Target will be happy to sell you another bottle. For what occasion are you saving the candles? or the fine china? or the good (and usually washable!) napkins? Use the good stuff - your family is worth it. YOU are worth it. And, as an added bonus, using these things will begin to free up the space they've been monopolizing in your cabinets and on your shelves.
Your better life awaits you and you probably already have some of the items you need to get started. I made my daughter's life better (and inherently my own) by using the things I already had to throw a lovely tea party for her and her friends. I stopped waiting for the right moment to make our lives better. I used things. And I'm proud of it.
We even used the good china.
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