Shrinking me

A reporter at work is shaving a few pounds off his frame. He's been writing about it as he goes through the process. This past Sunday he included the stories of people who have lost weight and kept it off. Me and two other reporters contributed to this report.

Today I weigh less than I did in high school. I started Weight Watchers in anticipation of my 30th birthday. All my life I used excuses like big boned, hour glass or curvy to describe my body. The fact was...I was overweight. I was healthy, active and my blood pressure wasn't through the roof. Yet my BMI score had me at obese. I decided that if I didn't lose weight and adopt healthy habits at 30, I would never do it. I kept a food journal. I kept track of points and worked out nearly five days a week, sometimes for more than an hour. I was also getting married that spring. My husband and I had taken engagement pictures a few months before I started my weight loss plan. I didn't like how my arms looked puffy and my rump round and out there. I was going to pay a lot of money for wedding pictures. I wanted to love the way I looked in them. Not look at them and say, "Well, my hair looks good, but look how fat my arms are." With that in mind I stayed motivated and lost 25 pounds on Weight Watchers.

Since then, I've kept it off for the past three years. In that time, I've had a baby and gained 50 pounds. But now, I'm proud to say I'm back below my target weight. It feels good to finally have control of my body, my weight and my self esteem.

The next challenge is finding time and resolve to workout when I really just want to sit and relax. Relaxing is what got your rear so wide, is what the voice inside my head says. Maybe if I just quit eating cookies or an afternoon sweet everyday and upped my water intake I would feel a little less like I'm cheating.

Fact is, I haven't really worked out very hard since my son was born. I do a lot of baby carrying, but I haven't had a workout when I've been solo and lost in my thoughts. I had hoped to run a 5K this fall, but it doesn't look likely. I haven't trained and don't see my free time opening up anytime soon.

So the small, short term goal for now is start keeping a food journal again and lay off the daily cookies. We'll see if I can make that happen.

When I started Weight Watchers I weighed 170 pounds. I'm not sure my diet was all that bad, but it was ill informed. I didn't realize I could eat a chicken breast and consume less calories than eating a handful of Wheat Thins.

I don't remember where I was the moment I realized I had made a substantial change in my life. I remember walking past store windows and seeing my reflection. In the past, I would focus on the roll in my midsection. Once I lost weight I stopped. I didn't look at my reflection with excuses ready and platitudes to encourage myself after the critique. I was happy with myself, just as I was. That feeling, and the feeling of trying on jeans at a store and not having to jump up and down to get them zipped up keeps me focused on what I put in my mouth.

I stopped thinking about food as something to bring me joy three times a day. Food became fuel. It's what powered me through the day, so what was the most efficient way to consume calories and still get all my nutrients. It's not that I don't eat desserts or fall off the train. I just know that when I indulge in a piece of cake or a cookie, I wait for the next train and hop on again.

The secret life of 20-somethings...

I must be getting old. In fact I know I am. I'm working my way through a lengthy piece on the lives of 20-somethings that appeared recently in the New York Times. The reporter looks at the growing trend of people in their 20's avoiding the milestones of "adult life," marriage, career, family, etc.

The article wonders if special protections should be given to 20-somethings and if that time period should be thought of as a new stage in development. Leaving adolescence...not quite making it to be a full-fledged adult. Studies have shown that the frontal lobe of a person's brain (the thing that keeps you from screaming every curse word that comes to mind when standing in line at the grocery or in other polite company) doesn't fully develop until the mid 20s.

But here is what irks me. I get the feeling that this notion of the 20's as some other stage of development operates on the principle that all parts of adult life should be enjoyable. That following your bliss is your main goal in life. I don't disagree with that. But I offer these little nuggets of wisdom...work is work. That is why you get paid to go there some days. Some days it is the only reason I show up. Other days, I would work for free. That's the nature of the game.

And then my question is, how did a generation of people begin to think this way? Is this a result of something Baby Boomer parents did? Is this a function of living in the richest country in the world and simply having too many options? In the past, people left their homes because their parents needed them to work, or start paying their own way and ease the burden. But what now? Are economic pressures driving people back home?

And then from a psychological standpoint: At what point does your life become your own? When do you begin to take pride in what you have earned, independent of your parents or whatever support network you cling to?

To be fair, I must disclose this: I have not lived with my parents since I was 19 years old. Sure, they helped me out, generously paid for my college so I wouldn't have student loans and would have gladly me offer a place to crash when times got tough. I fall into that rare 20-something who was a homeowner before 30. I had a college degree and a job in a related field by 23. That's what I was taught to do. I didn't think that there was an option that included not doing those things.

In my senior year of college after spending a semester in Europe I wanted to go back. I didn't want to go work for the "man" and blindly stumble into the role of an adult that my parents represented: Hard-working, with at the time, seemed like little joy in their lives.

When did the rubber meet the road? When I realized I had a medical condition that would be considered a pre-existing condition if I didn't have health insurance coverage always. I remember a very exasperating conversation with my mother in which I said, "People don't get jobs just to have health insurance..." From the mouths of babes. Life it turns out, is quite the opposite. People take and keep jobs for the benefits.

My solution to this cruel reality: Move far away. If I had to work in the U.S. and had to have health insurance I wanted to do it someplace that felt faraway. So at 22, I packed up my stuff and moved to McAllen, Texas, on the Texas-Mexico border. It was in the United States, but a world away from home. A world away from what I thought my parents wanted for me and all mine. It was extended college...but guess what...I was paying for it.

So in all this, I guess I'm saying to the 20-somethings....suck it up. I know the economy is bad. Living in a "cool" city is expensive. College loans are massive and unfair. But we all make choices and maybe you give up a cosmopolitan lifestyle to play music and live in a cheaper location. Or you work a job that's tough and not your cup of tea because you need health insurance.

Working for a living doesn't mean you don't have time to pursue your passions. We all make choices about how we spend our time.

As a parent, the idea that my son could move home after college for an extended stay with no plan is unsettling. Of course I would welcome him back and provide stability for him to get off the ground, or whatever...but the point of raising a child is that they leave and give back the world.

Yes...I'm getting old. I get the angst, the artfulness, the desire to pursue creative endeavors that drive some from a "traditional career path" But I'm not that old and that far away from it all. Yet, at some point, don't we all have to figure out how to match our monetary needs (bills, bills, bills) with our creative needs....

Nine months ago today...

I became a mom, my husband became a father. I hope we are wiser, stronger and better nine months later. We've learned how to sleep with a baby in our arms. How to work as a team changing a diaper in the middle of the night.

Our house has been transformed. We no longer have a dining room with a cabinet full of wine glasses. We have a playroom complete with a plastic fence to keep the baby in and the dogs out. We've learned just how little sleep we can survive on. We've learned to multitask at everything. Above all, I've learned to slow down, live a little and trust my husband completely.

Nine months ago today, probably about this time of day, I looked down at this little boy who grew inside of me and wondered how old he would be when he stopped thinking his parents were the center of the universe. I looked at his perfect ears and ear lobes that formed in my belly. I hoped that he never pierced them. As I touched them, fresh newborn skin, I prayed that he would never turn into a bratty teenager I wouldn't want to be around. Most of all I prayed that I wouldn't screw this little human being up too much. I prayed he would love being my son as much as I loved being his mother and someday he would know what it was like to spend the first night as a parent. Bleary-eyed, filled with love, grateful for life and ready to learn.

My little man.

Summer playlist

I'm piggybacking off a discussion I heard on the Takeaway radio show this morning. What does your summer playlist include? Here's mine, more nostalgia than great music. It's where I'm at today I guess.

1. Leaving Lost Vegas, Sheryl Crow. Best sung with the windows down...and you have to leeeeaving Lost Veeeegaaas! Tuesday Night Music Club came out when I was in high school (and check out Crow's grunge look). I still have fond memories of listening to it at my mom's house with the windows open. It was also one of Crow's more melancholy albums. Before she met Lance, dumped Lance and offered the saccharin, "Soak up the Sun" song.

2. Summertime, Fresh Prince. Don't hate. That's the jam. Every time I hear that, "DRRRUMS PLEASE, Barbecue starting at 4" it's summer. It's just a happy song...again reminds me of high school. Maybe that was the last time I had summer freedom?

3. Calm Americans, Elliott. Ah...emo, how I still love thee. I saw these guys in Fort Wayne, Indiana, at a city park shelter house. Amazing. Reminds me of road trips late at night through the corn and soybean fields of the Midwest. Feeling misunderstood, wondering what adult life would hold and wearing a lot of sweaters.

4. Firecracker, Ryan Adams. I just like this song. Makes me want to have a PBR and hang around the table outside. Sweat, a little romance and a nice harmonica.

5. Horchata, Vampire Weekend. This whole album is good for the summer. I love the beats, the ska influences...and I love Horchata. This is a nice stripped down version. Fast forward to the 2-minute mark to hear the song.

I'm taking suggestions for the rest of this list. What does your summer playlist include?

A picture a day...

I've got a new camera, Canon Rebel. I think I need to be documenting what I see. Plus I need to figure out how my camera works. We shot a few pictures over the past couple of weeks. Here are some of my favorites.



This was shot about 6 p.m. in full evening sunlight in a pristine hotel room in Cleveland. Right now I'm just using the automated features on the camera. I haven't figure out that others yet.

Here's another one of my favorites.



What are your favorite subjects? Got any photography tips?

The sentimentality is crushing

The passage of time never used to bother me. Babies grow up. People get older, people die. That's how life works, I never gave it much thought.

Now as a parent, I find myself wanting to stop time at certain moments in life. It's not that I never want to grow past this moment. It's more that I want to be able to come back to these moments and languish in them when things are tough. I want to remember them with such detail that I am re-living them. I find myself enjoying my family, my son, my husband and wishing that nothing would change. We would always get a along like this. We would know no hardship or sickness or tragedy.

I find the sentimentality that I could attach to mundane daily life can be crushing. Like, do I remember the last time my son needed help getting a toy? Do I remember the last time my husband and I had a conversation that didn't include parenthood? This blog reminded me to at least slow down to watch. So much of life happens while we are all trying to get somewhere or get something else done. I'm trying to think if there was a milestone my son hit this morning when I was rushing to get ready for work and get everybody out the door.

He waved at me from his car seat when I walked back up to the front door to pick him up and put him in the car. He's still trying to master that wave, but it seems voluntary, not just his little hand being slung in the air. He pet the cat this morning from his perch in a bouncy seat while watching the first few minutes of Sesame Street. Life happens so quickly, even when you are watching.

Thunder dome

We did it. We bought thunder gear...on the day of their last game in the playoffs. It felt nice for this city to be united behind something bigger than a bombing or tornado. It's nice to have positive things to bring us together too. So, the Thunder didn't beat the Lakers, but they sure gave them a run for their money. Take that Lakers.

Of course, we decided to get on the bandwagon a little late. We had to go to a friends house to watch the game because we're too cheap to have ESPN on our cable. Yes, there is less cable than the basic package. You have to ask for it special.

So when will cable companies begin the ala carte channel game? Would it work? Honestly with the DH in school and the boy attached to me as soon as I get home, there is little time to watch television. Although, I've never been a big fan of sitting there in front of the boob tube anyway. I used to think I was missing out on popular culture references because I couldn't participate in the water cooler conversations about Lost or whatever. I just can't sit still that long or commit to a series like that. Sometimes I just like to be around real people. Not trying to dis the folks that can watch the series and show up for every episode. I just can't do it, and for that I thank my parents. I don't know what they did, but I have a hard time being a couch potato.

So ala carte cable. My channels would include: ESPN, major networks, Food Channel, Bravo, Turner Movie Classics and that's about it....what am I missing? Maybe MTV so I can see what kids today are up to? I would like HBO and a DVR....yes, technology is a slippery slope.

My man, the marathoner

I'm a little late getting this report out. I wanted to post pictures of DH at the finish line, but then the camera battery went dead. Oh, such is life.

Anyway, DH did awesome. He finished the race, all 26.2 miles of it. That still boggles my mind. He didn't finish it in the time he had hoped to, but still impressive to me. I think we'll be doing a few more marathons before it's all said and done. The hard part isn't the race, it's the training required.

So, if this is going to be a regular thing...me being a spectator of men/boys doing things, I need to get better at it. A few observations I had while trying to get to the cheering spots along the route. It's difficult to do, especially if you're trying to follow a speedy runner. It's a mad dash to get mile 20 and then the next mile when you and 5,000 other dedicated family and friends are attempting to do the same. So, next race I'm going to add an army of cheerers to cheer along the way. The person with the camera needs to be finish line, to catch the big finish --- and that gets to be me.

Driving around yesterday it was pretty clear that all of us drivers with our phones texting or coordinating were heading to the same blocked off streets and hoping to make it there on time. I gave up on mile 20 after catching DH at mile 14. Good thing we've got great friends who didn't mind walking and cheering on the blur as he passed.

And for future races, I'm going to use a tailgating philosophy. We watch you run, we cheer you on all morning. You're high on endorphins and we're hungry. You're getting a free cheeseburger and a massage, we're patiently waiting to hear the details of the race and eat lunch. You're trading stories and war wounds with your fellow runners, we're looking at the clock and getting sunburned.

So...next time, I'm packing a cooler. Adult beverages too. We'll go back to the car, sit at the parking lot. Eat a snack, have a cold beverage and then I don't care how long the runner takes to get his after race swag.

Para acabar la raza...

You will never find time for anything. If you want the time, you must make it.

- Charles Buxton

My DH is running the OKC Memorial marathon this weekend. A marathon...you read that correct, 26 grueling miles of running, because he likes it. I think there's more to it than that. He's going to turn 35 this year. He's going to finish his first year of nursing school in a few weeks, and he's going to finish his first year of being an awesome father.

Why not run a marathon? Why not battle thyself, it's an age-old plot line. I give him a hard time, but I'm really proud of him.

As for me, there are many things I'd rather do than run for five hours. Paint, drive, watch television, shoot...even walking would be better. He jokes about the signs people made in previous years to cheer on the runners. My personal favorite, "It's easier than labor and delivery." After our 30-hour wait to meet our son, I can say, yes, yes it is.

So el nino and I will be at mile 13, mile 20 and the finish line reminding that husband of mine that we're on his team -- win or lose.

And then...I will apply BenGay and remind him he's no spring chick anymore.

Comedy Central is comedic

Methinks Comedy Central is a little cowardly. But at the same time the censoring is ironic and sort of making a joke of itself. Censorship is never a good thing.

Free Range parenting

As an anecdote to take your children to work, this blogger is proposing leaving them at the playground.

Apparently in our quest to make the lives of children safer we have begun to be afraid of our own shadows. My parents divorced when I was in the third grade. My mother commuted an hour and half each way to her government job. My brother and I had to get ourselves ready for school. We had to get to school and we got ourselves home each night. By 5:30 p.m. my mom would be pulling into our lengthy gravel driveway and then it would be time for dinner. I will admit, I was grateful for that driveway that you could see out the front windows of our ramshackle farm house. Plenty of time to stop whatever nonsense you were doing and tidy up the living room.

I'm not sure how she felt about that commute or the safety of her children in a bucolic Southern Indiana town. Truth is, we always had adults around us. Our neighbors were retired and lived at the other end of the gravel driveway. My fourth grade teacher lived next door to them. I guess if we had a real problem, we had adults we could go to. I wonder how I would feel now as a parent not having a cell phone. From the time she left her office until she got home, we had no way of contacting her. No cell phones. No texting. Seems weird now.

Each morning I walked about 20 minutes to the nearest bus stop. I remember spending mornings dwaddling with my other neighbor's horses. Poking around at businesses while waiting for the bus. Some mornings me and my good friend Jenny would purposefully miss the bus. We would show up at the house where the bus stop was, ask if the bus had come and then take a ride from the mom at the house, who didn't want two girls sitting on her porch all day. The kindness of strangers.

At 8 years old, I rode my bike into "town," and got the mail or rented a movie. Maybe if I was feeling up to it, I'd climb on the tank outside the courthouse, or pop by the library, or maybe ride around the town square a few times. Would I allow my child to do that today? Would my mother allowed me to do that if she knew?

I guess she trusted that we had good judgement. That the parenting we got was solid and stuck with us. We had two barns and a pond near our home. I spent hours after school climbing around in those barns full of rusty nails or shoddy floor boards.

We had forts in the woods. I chased cats across the corn fields, and never once jumped in that pond without parental supervision. There were a lot of things that could have gone wrong, but they didn't. I survived. I marvel now at the freedom I had as a child and wonder if I could allow my child the same risks.

I can update frm my phone.

Resume living

I'm back. It's been awhile. Life has changed a little since December 2008. I've learned what it means to be a parent. What it means to make life and share life. I've learned that I've got a lot to learn.

I've also learned that writing is essential. A lot like breathing to me. It needs to happen. It needs to be daily and it needs to be organic. That's why I'm here again. I have a lot of blogs, social networking, other forms of self promotion. I realize this blog is more of an outlet with no expected return. The rest have been monetized and branded. This, for the few who read, is who I am in the word. I hope to be back here with more frequency. And the best perk of being expected to write from your world more than once in a blue moon...you are forced to live actively. To pay attention to the world around you and to pay attention to what inspires you and what strikes you.

So here I am. Come along.