Current Weight: 267.6

Change: +.2

Total so far: -9.2

My scale was particularly cranky this week, I think perhaps I should suck it up and find another place to put it that is more stable, even if that means temporarily “gaining”.

This week was about surviving without too much backsliding.  It was a week alone, a grill that caught fire (my favorite healthy food options involve grilling), and mothers day.  A day where I refuse to count points because dammit I am getting healthy for my kids, and that day I get to be as bad as I want.

Since I weighed in though, things have been good.  I’ve been out walking and mowing and taking care of things around the house.  Keeping active.  I realized that there is just no way to eat at Don Pablo’s healthfully, and I found some great recipes that make cooking without a grill (getting a new one this weekend) more fun.  At the Minneapolis Farmer’s Market (downtown where I work just outside our office every Thursday so there are no excuses) is Dehn’s.  Dehn’s sell fresh, super fresh, herbs.  They also sell plants at this time of year, but right now I’m all about instant gratification.  Our garden likely won’t be ready until around Memorial Day. This week I got both basil and fresh cilantro from them.  Well, and a giant thing of baby greens that includes edible flowers.  M eats the flowers, she things its fun.

First I made pesto with some of their amazing fresh basil.  I crave green sometimes, and this totally fits.  I used a recipe from WW that replaces most of the olive oil with chicken stock.  It still includes the pine nuts and cheese, so you get the full flavor without the fat.  It was incredibly delicious.  Vibrant and tasty.  We had penne with chicken breasts and pesto.  The points came from the pasta and chicken more than the sauce, just the way it should be.

Second, we had taco salads last night with those great greens, some ground turkey breast, and pinto beans (drained) mixed with canned tomatoes with green chilies.  To top it off, a cilantro, avocado buttermilk dressing.  Recipe basically like this. This was inspired by whatever various recipes I could find for “buttermilk cilantro” dressing.

Generous 1/2 Cup of lowfat buttermilk (mine got a little thick, added just a bit more)

1 whole very ripe avocado (mine was more like 2/3 because of some brown spots)

1 whole bunch of cilantro, leaves only unless it is cute baby stems like I had from Dehns, chopped rough

Juice of 1 Lime

1/4 tsp. ground cumin

1/4 tsp ground ancho chili powder

salt & pepper to taste

Blend that sucker up.  For small batch things like dressings or the pesto, I like my little smoothie blender.   No extra fat other than the avocado needed.  The buttermilk & avocado emulsify perfectly and on the salad it served as both a dressing and a sour cream replacement.  That recipe works out to be 2 pts for a VERY generous serving.  I saved the little I had left over the leftover turkey & beans.  I want to make more just to have around since I like creamy dressings but most are too much fat for the flavor.  This is not.  It would even make a good veggie dip.

So, what do you like to eat when the weather gets hot?

We were talking about how lucky I am to have such goofy silly kids.  M is a ham, getting in trouble more for trying to make her friends laugh than the kinds of things that are early warning signs for being a juvenile delinquent. H, though only 11 months old, already knows that she has the power to make someone laugh.

I’m happy to have fun kids.  Being a kid should be fun, it should be filled with laughter and giggling and silly faces.  I mentioned how nice it was since I was an overly serious kid.  He said he didn’t always remember it being that way.  He remembered me being very silly and fun.  Then it changed.

I know when it changed.  It changed then the bullying got to be too much.  When the years of being picked on for being different took their toll and I could no longer laugh it off.  It happened when the teachers started being the bullies too.

I remember being made fun in seventh grade by a teacher for having a hyphenated last name.  Being called out in front of a whole group of my peers because “what would happen if I married someone with a hyphenated last name, would I have four last names then”.  Singled out, for being different.

I remember being called in to the principals office because I was wearing ripped jeans.  Accused of the rips being too high on my jeans, despite the fact that I wore opaque dance tights underneath them and the rips only went as high as just above my knees. Even though I took classes with an older boy who had rips on his jeans so high that you could see his boxer shorts.  (it was the 80s, there was no accounting for taste)

I was teased on the swim team for not shaving my legs, because I wasn’t allowed to by my feminist mother.

I was spit on on the bus.  I was mocked in front of my class by my teachers.  I wasn’t protected by the adults charged with my care.

I was bullied for being me.

Bullying changes you.  It takes a silly kid and turns them serious.  Makes them not trust the world.  When authority figures fail to protect, when they join in, how can you trust that anyone really cares?

I love my silly, goofy, happy children.  I will speak out against bullies.  I will challenge teachers and administrators, I will call them out for what they are.  I will make it different for them.

Will you?

Sometimes when we get busy and barely seem to see each other, even if we are in the same room, sometimes I wonder.  The kind of wondering that you do when things are stressed and it feels like the other person isn’t helping you out at all.  The kind of wondering you do when you’re pissed and frustrated. It is all just wonder though.

The reality is different.  He is gone, only for days, but gone none the less.  It feels like part of me is missing.  I get up and wish he was in the shower already so I could hurry him along.  I finish work, I get the girls from daycare, something I’ve done more alone than with him, but then he isn’t at home, isn’t waiting.  He sends me texts and messages from San Francisco.  Things like “Skinny jeans, pointy shoes, iPad, sport coat = douche” and I wish we were together so that we could be snarky about hipsters together.

Sometimes I wonder, then I remember, we aren’t meant to be apart.  We are better together.

Current Weight: 267.4 

Change: -2

Total so far: -9.4

I know, two pounds is awesome, I just don’t feel so awesome.  I’m having a hard time with the nighttime snacking.  My solution for that last time was working out in the evenings, but so far the weather and my knee haven’t been cooperating.  Tomorrow though, i have hope.  If the weather is nice I’m taking the girls (including the dog) out for a walk after dinner.  It will keep me from going stir crazy in the house and I’ll get to see how my knee is doing.  It will be good, as will mowing the lawn on Thursday.

The other thing I’m struggling with is seeing the effects of this all on the way my clothes fit.  I think they fit better, I mean over 10 pounds (from my max weight of 280) is really something, but as Liz says, when you have this much to lose, it is hard to see.  Patience, I know, I know. I’ve always been more of an instant gratification person, which may explain how I got to be this size.  Food is the ultimate in instant gratification.

Speaking of Liz, she’s been a huge inspiration for me.   Her honesty makes me want to be more brave and share more, because I know that in sharing comes support.  If you don’t know who she is, you should.  She’s blogging at Jen’s site (another pretty damn inspirational woman and a fellow north sider), and at her own.  In a world where it seems that people only use religion for hate and fear, she gives me hope.  She lives her faith, and it is something I have incredible respect for.   Go, see, she’s awesome.

H seems to be recovering from her surgery pretty well.  She hates the antibiotics that she got because her ears were infected again at the time of surgery, but she’s doing well considering that she has four molars coming in right now too.  M is my emotional sensitive girl and I know she’s going to miss her dad and act out, but we’ll get through.  We just have to tap in to her desire to be a big girl and be helpful.

The thing I’m honestly worried the most about it my eating.  I’m already trying very hard not to eat my feelings.  I’m going to miss A, I’m going to be dealing with a sensitive preschooler and a baby who isn’t fond of sleeping.

I’ve done my best to be prepared.  I went shopping and stocked up on fruits & veggies.  I’ve got meals planned out that fit in to the plan.  I’ve got help coming one of the nights so I can mow the lawn (exercise!).   I may even try to get for a walk to wear them out if the weather is nice.  I just… don’t trust myself.  I confiscated M’s Easter candy today (she can keep it in her room if she asks permission before eating, and she didn’t with her bunny, so we took it all away), and I will admit to eating some of it.  I shouldn’t have, but I did.  I’m going to throw out what is left before he leaves.

Its only four days, if I don’t do as well as I should, it is only four days.

Current Weight: 269.4 (As of Tuesday morning)

Change: -4

Total so far: -7.4

I’m very pleased with that.  That is with some eating out (still my downfall) and my husband’s amazing birthday cheesecake from The Salty Tart.  I’m not sure how this next week will go.  We ran out of gas for the grill, and that makes healthier more challenging when the weather is hot.  We have kindergarten registration tomorrow, surgery for H on Friday and some very stressful things going on.  I just want to be on a roll by the time I hit next Tuesday.  A is going out of town for four day for work so I’m flying solo with the kids.  I won’t complain too much though since during that time I have daycare.  When I start traveling for work again I’ll be gone Thursday-Monday leaving him alone on the weekends.

This last week I started trying to add in some more exercise.  It was lawn mowing on Monday night, but it still counts.  Yesterday I walked a bunch downtown at lunch since H needed diapers (I did a Target run) and this weekend I’ll be doing yard work and more jungle lawn mowing.  My knee is still in pretty rough shape because of many nights sitting holding a cranky baby, but I still think I’m on track to really start running again once I hit 250.  That seems far away, but I know it isn’t.

To celebrate my weaning of H (involuntary, but still worthy of a little celebration) I got myself new bras.  I also got a new to and jeans that fit better.  I find that with A working downtown I want to dress nicer for him.   I think that is one of the best benefits.  Before starting to try to get healthier I had sort of given up on caring about how I look.  I still need to wax, but I’m making an effort at work again.  It is a great feeling.

Me, somewhere around 270. It only gets better.

Starting Weight: 277

This Week’s Weight: 273.6

Difference: 3.4

You know what, that is an awesome start.  That was after three days of eating out for my husband’s birthday weekend.  I woke up this morning feeling bloated and a little discouraged.  It didn’t matter!  I was able to eat some food truck food. I am increasing my fruit & veggie intake. I found a great deal on blackberries at Market Produce (at Midtown Global Market), and I restocked my freezer with frozen green beans. (my favorite easy veggie fill up food)

I hope after this next week my knee is back enough to try some more walking (I would say I would try to do the Shred, but there is no way jumping jacks are in my near future).  My goal is fruit every day, fresh or not.  I think I’ve found a good breakfast that fills me up enough until lunch (plain Greek yogurt, lowfat granola, fresh fruit, small fat free latte).  I can do this!

She’s getting tubes in two weeks.  I’ve been tracking my points since Tuesday.

Starting Weight: 277

I hate having to publish that, but I know that putting it out there means some major accountability for me.  I’m ashamed of how much weight I gained with my last pregnancy. I can get over the fact that it is very hard for me to lose weight while nursing, but I shouldn’t have gained that much in the first place.  I know that weight means my insulin resistance is going to fight against me, that my knees are going to hurt any time I try to exercise, that I have failed after having been successful before.

I need to put that behind me however.  I can’t keep beating myself up for the past.  It needs to be in the past.  I know I can do this.  I’ve done this before.

I have tried Weight Watchers before, but it never seemed to work for me.  However, their (relatively) recent plan changes (specifically no points for fruits & veggies) seem to fit more with what I know works for me.  I need more veggies, some fruits, lean proteins, and as little sugar as possible.  They help me with that in an easily manageable way.  Right down to the iPhone apps.  I’m particularly fond of the bar code scanner.  I can see that making shopping a much easier task.

So far the things I see as challenging are that I still want to be able to enjoy food trucks and things that don’t have easily figured points.  I’m trying to resolve that by doing some guesstimating and making sure I’m not making them a regular occurrence.  Having to track things seems to have two major impacts on my diet.  I find I eat out less, but I am drawn to convenience food more (since it has easy to figure points).  I hope that I can stick with this and get to a point where I am cooking more.  The impact that having sleep deprived parents and chronically sick kids is a lot more eating out than we should be doing.  That has got to stop. I can say that, but we’ll see how it works in practice.  I suspect that the farmer’s markets starting up again will also help.

So, there it is, my starting weight. Weigh ins for me are Tuesday mornings, at home.  I just don’t dig the public meeting thing.  So far I’ve been doing pretty well, but I usually start having issues after a week or so.  Maybe blogging about all of this again will help me stay accountable.   Help me with that, please?

The baby seems to be learning from the dog.  She like to chew on dirty socks, often taking hers off and gnawing on them.  She will crawl around the floor with a toy in her mouth, making she carries it to her next destination.  The baby is now known at the U of M vet center because my husband told the vet students that did the dog’s teeth about how the baby takes after her.

This morning, H seemed a little off.  I chalked it up to a)  teething, b)  hunger, she’s apparently decided to start eating more since she is, cross my fingers, not sick for the first time in maybe two months.  or c) she’s all about mama lately.  However, daycare said she she was crying a lot, and when they looked in her mouth, there was something yellow and brown covering the entire upper palate.  I know thrush can turn yellow and get huge, so I figure that it was likely that, but I wasn’t freaked out.  We figured we’d go look at it at lunch.  I screwed up my knee recently and a quick walk just isn’t in the cards for me.  Meh, whatever.  Then they called back again.  She wasn’t sleeping, clearly was in pain, and could I please come and see it right away.  Now, just so you know, I’ve missed so much work because of the ear infection that wouldn’t die, the stomach flu that got us an ER visit and IV in the middle of the ear infection that wouldn’t die, and yesterday I got the stomach flu, that I wasn’t keen on missing any more work. Right now I don’t have enough PTO for my own very needed surgery.  I reluctantly went to daycare to check it out (A had a meeting, I did not and therefore drew the short straw), to arrive and find out she had thrown up.  In fact, she had thrown up whatever was on the roof of her mouth. Everyone was freaked out.  I got a rubber glove and took a look at it, then proceeded to laugh.

It was… an onion skin.  She had eventually gagged enough to hork it out of her mouth. Then promptly went to sleep now that she felt better.

I don’t know what it is about those things, but I can’t seem to ever find them all, and she is like a moth to a flame.  I take one out of her mouth it seems daily. The dog, also a fan.  I think they fight over them.

Her poor teacher has been traumatized by the whole thing.  I can imagine that on the roof of her mouth, completely plastered to her palate, being a different texture than a mouth should be, it would look positively ominous.  I told her to think of it as an awesome story to tell about the oddest thing she’d ever seen as a daycare teacher.

H got sent home.  Technicalities and all for gagging out an onion skin.  The good news is she’s happy now.  The bad news is I may never get my tonsils out.

I don’t admit to it as much as I’d like to.  I can stand up on the internet and say that part of getting better breastfeeding rates is for those of us who are committed to it (dude, I’m not even sure if I can write that anymore, I feel like I’m not part of the “club” anymore) need to be more open and honest about it.  Making it an accepted part of society will remove the barriers that exist.  However, I don’t really say much about it outside of the “safety” of the Internet community I’m a part of.

Now though, even in the safety of my Internet community, I feel like a fraud.

I know, in the part of my brain that handle logic, that I am not a failure.  I know, in that part of my brain, that nine months is freaking awesome, and I’m not (totally) done yet either.

However, the second guessing, it never ends.

Was it not staying on Metformin, not figuring out how to get to see my old endocrinologist even though they moved, after H was born? I wasn’t on it with M, but maybe my PCOS was that much worse.

Did I take for granted my overproducing boobs?

Was it that I took for granted her status as the “easy” baby.  She was so flexible I didn’t feed her enough?

How long was it that she had that ear infection? Did I chalk it up to being teething for too long? How long had she been not eating enough?

Was she just not as in to breastfeeding as I thought? Eating more at daycare when it came easy from a bottle?

I can’t stop going over it in my head.  Where it went wrong, what I should have done differently.  Regardless, one thing is clear, it will never go back to being as good as it was.  It wasn’t just a matter of sleep.  It isn’t a little formula until she gets back to “normal”.   Normal is now as much as I can pump and still be able to feed her that one time a night, formula for the rest of the time.  Normal is trying to regain some of my life.  The part that I hadn’t realized I had given up when I was always worried about leaving to take time for me.  When I knew something wasn’t right.

I regret all of those times when I judged, silently, what other did, what it turns out I’m doing now.

I am lucky, so lucky, to have others willing to make no excuses for making the best choice for their families.   I am lucky to have been able to breastfeed at all.

As I sit here, trying to finish this, trying to feel sorry for myself just a little bit more, reality jumped in and kicked my ass.

Tonight on the drive home from daycare, there was a piece on NPR about a mission to Mercury by a spacecraft named Messenger.  It was a woman talking about what they discovered.  It made me think of Susan.  Women in the planetary science are far too rare, and they all rock.  Then I was on Facebook, and I’m never on Facebook, and someone mentioned seeing the planets tonight, then someone tagged Susan in a photo.  I think the universe is trying to tell me something.

I am selfish to bitch, and moan and whine about my boobs.  H will be fine.  I will be fine.  M needs to learn more about the stars and the planets.