I am a lucky, lucky girl. I don't always feel this way, but I am. I am unlucky in love, and I sometimes struggle at work or in my family, but I must always remember how very lucky I am. My blessings show themselves as the many wonderful, giving, generous, funny, interesting friends who are truly, truly there for me. This is always my safety net, even when I don't always love having people be, "there for me." I'm not good at asking for help, saying what I need, or accepting help, support, or even just kindness when it's offered. But I have a plethora of friends who do it anyways. And they are amazing people! I have friends here in Colorado that I work out with, sing with, and plan fun girl-outings with, or even have deep spiritual talks with. I have friends in Boston, Illinois, Florida, and New Jersey that are like extensions of my family and treat me like I'm just part of their household. I have friends who give me reality checks when I need to toughen my spine, and friends who hold me when I feel broken and miserable. I have friends who love to laugh and play, and friends who keep a serious eye on the road. I have great, amazing, funny, smart, talented, wise, selfless friends.
Although I sometimes feel that I don't have enough of the things I need, I always have more than enough love, support, fun, connection, places to stay, people who care about what is going on with me, and laughter.
I've had two very powerful reminders of this lately. They both revolved around my very-not-happy-day last Friday. I posted something about my tears on Facebook and within a couple of hours had an outpouring of support. Two friends called me to make sure I was ok, while another asked me if he should call and one more told me later he had picked up the phone several times wanting to call and check on me, but then wasn't sure if I was still at work. One of my friends, who I consider family, texted me some love, and a reminder that he would be visiting soon - a cross country trip he will make just to have some good times with me. I got messages from friends who reminded me that the person who bullied me deserved my pity, not my anger. I had messages of compassion, and messages from people reminding me they would happily take up my cause and kick some ass for me. All told, I heard from 15 people last Friday, all within 4 hours of my post. And every message, either explicitly or implicitly said the same thing, You are great. I think well of you. Don't buy into this bad experience as being true of what you mean or who you are.
It was humbling, this massive outpouring of support. It actually made me worry that I had presented my sadness and distress as being much more dire than they were. I was not in any danger nor was I without the tools or experience to deal with the situation. It was just a very bad day at the end of a couple of weeks that were very exhausting and very emotional. It was awe-ing to see how many people came "to the rescue" when I had a bad damsel moment.
The other thing that happened is that a couple of friends immediately started making plans with me. Plans to hike, workout, call, etc. And one of my friends, who I regrettably don't get to see enough of, reached and said, "I was supposed to have a weekend away with my husband and that's not going to happen, but I'm still going up there. Wanna come?" Ummm, YES!
A couple of days of hiking, mountains, lounging at the pool, and eating tourist food seems just fine to me. What will be best of all is the time to hang with her. We have found that we have conversations that start with where one of us go the shirt we're wearing and up with talking about atheism, running, zombies, psychology, child raising, and everything in between. We laugh a lot and have conversations that make us think hard (well, I can't speak for her, but I can for me).
This break comes at a good time. I've been struggling the last couple of weeks. I don't really feel I've earned another vacation after taking time off to go to Seattle just a couple of weeks ago but somehow I need it. Even for a day. The last two weeks have been difficult and uncertain ones for me at work, in my family, and in the relationship I'm not sure if I'm having or not having with my boyfriend. I have been on the road nonstop and have worked too many extra hours, while still fretting about being behind. I have worked very hard to be in a healthy place with my family, and I think I'm there but it's work. And I feel it. And things are still very open and undecided in my relationship, with some hopeful moments and some very sad ones.
All of that has affected the things I do to process and unwind. It's been hard to get my cardio in. It's been harder to sleep. I haven't gotten as much enjoyment out of singing or cooking because it takes me too long to let go of the other things that followed me around that day to get full enjoyment out of the fun of singing and cooking. And my writing has been effected. Squeaking out a few posts in the past week has been hard, hard going. I feel I am always trying for words that are just beyond my reach. The pieces of my thinking about whatever I am writing about don't quite come together in a strong fit because I'm kind of mentally FULL right now. There isn't room for a lot else, just the things that are already on my plate.
So, as I pack to head off to the mountains, I don't think I'm taking this blog with me. This is metaphorical, of course, since I will have technology with me. What I mean is, I just want to turn down the noise on everything right now, enjoy my friend, and see where that leaves my head and heart, and then see where that leaves my eating and my body. As you can imagine, during the last couple of weeks there have been victories and defeats in that category. Instead of focusing in and relentlessly tinkering with that non stop, I'm trying to take a brief respite; a moment of reminding myself that chubby or not chubby, healthy or not, single or coupled, I am lucky. Let's see what that does for my attitude, my faith, my outlook, and my motivation.
See ya'll on the other side of a mini-cation!
Friday, September 23, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
loyalty
I should call this post "to the bitter end," because that is too often the consequence of my brand of loyatly.
I have mentioned before that I am loyal to a fault, and sometimes to my own detriment. When I think about it, I'm not exactly sure where the kind of fierce loyalty I practice comes from. I don't have memories of some childhood lesson learned, or of this being presented as a value in the home I grew up in in words or deeds. If anything, I saw some pretty strong examples of reasons why sticking to someone or something can be more difficult than it's worth. Nevertheless, here I sit as one of the most determinedly steadfast people I know. I stick by people even when it makes no sense. I stick by people who have hurt me, or done things I don't condone. I have stuck by people and my caring for them even as they go to jail or make horrible mistakes they cannot take back. I have stuck by friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, and family when they have not earned it I have stuck by jobs even when I am frustrated or not making enough. I do this, and meanwhile do a killer job at whatever it is even when I think I deserve better. On a near daily basis I support policies that I disagree with out of loyalty and professionalism. I stuck it out in school even when my adviser abused me and stole from me, and when I realized that she had treated other students just as badly if not worse. Moreover, I finished my master's in her lab and thus ran her lab and advised her students for her.
Once I'm in, I'm all in.
I was talking with a good friend recently and he said, "I'm totally committed. You'd think it was a good thing but it's not." And I know just exactly how that feels.
I gain so much from this. I have gained the ability to forgive and move on (though it takes me awhile). I have kept friends I would have lost if I was faster to close the door. I have the ability to not give up on someone where other people would walk out and not look back.I assume my children will one day benefit from the deep value I have to commit.
If I had to guess, I would say this latching on and not giving up is about a few things. First, I am bad at giving up. I don't quit. I don't give in. I had a client a few years ago who made it her mission to make things very hard on the company, and since I was the representative of the company, her evil quest was directed at me. I remember saying to my bosses boss when she had made her most recent war volley that, "She picked the wrong person if she thinks this means I will give up. Because I will just dig my heels in harder." It took me forever to leave grad school, even though I had every reason to. (and I didn't exactly quit so much as I left at an appropriate juncture) It took me an extra year to get my black belt, and I just kept at it. I grew up with the message in my ear that math wasn't my thing. So, of course, after picking the one college where taking a math class wasn't required (no grades, tests, pre-set majors or required courses at Hampshire College) I "minored" in math. I don't give up.
The other issue is that I see what is good in almost everyone I meet, even people who really friggen annoy me. I see the good in the person who bags my groceries with tomatoes on the bottom of the bag. And I have a nice conversation with him. I see the good in the cop who pulls me over out of boredom (and says, "you were almost going over the speed limit."). I see the good in the family member who abandons me and my affection. I look for the better side hiding underneath the good in the friend who gave me a hard time. I see the good in the boyfriend who was pathologically not there for me and expected me to give, and give, and give. (When he left me in the town I had moved to for his benefit days after my father had died claiming somehow that that loss was more about his unresolved family feelings than mine, I stopped seeing the good . . . six months later. We don't refer to him by his given name anymore.)
It's hard for me to close the door on anything I have invested in - a job, a friendship, a degree, a person I love. For me, I call this the "used car problem." See, I've only ever owned used cars. and some of them were more used than others. When you get a great deal on a used car, you have to also plan that some of the money you saved will go into keeping the car alive. I'm also pretty on top of regular maintenance. So, at some point, I would look at each car and think, "How much more money will I put into you?" On my last car before this one, I replaced the battery, hoses, two tires, brakes and two drums, an important component of the electrical system, and water pump. That added up to more than I had paid for it in the first place. Of course, it didn't happen all at once. I invested a little bit at a time over 5 years. Somewhere in the third year I had the thought, "Do I really want to put this work into the car?" But then thought, "well, I've invested tires and brakes already, so I might as well pay the $300 for this repair."
It happens a little at a time, and it totally is the good money-after-bad issue. Only, with people, it's hard to see when the money turns bad. Well, for me anyways. If I don't give up on things, it seems just plain wrong to walk away from people.
The problem, of course, comes when people like my friend and I throw our lot in for the long haul and then get taken for everything we're worth. It's easy for someone who doesn't intend to be manipulative to take advantage of the capacity for commitment, and the large amount of loyalty. For someone who is needy, demanding, or a "taker" it's even easier. And let's just say that I have had my arm twisted professionally in the past.
When I allow this to happen, sometimes I get to keep someone or something in my life that deserves my investment, and sometimes I end up having to file a restraining order (true story). I am getting better at finding better used cars to begin with. My standards are going up. But my investments go up too.
I am working really hard these days to examine all my loyalties and see which ones best serve me. I am investigating deep, deep down to think if the people, places, jobs, and activities I put so much of myself into to see if I get enough out of it. I have found myself recently saying at work, "well, there's only one of me so I had to _____." I need to think this way more often.
There's only one of me. And I only get one today. One life. One heart. I need to . . . if not protect it, at least be very choosey. Otherwise I could give too much of myself to things that don't work for me. I feel really sad when I think about the time I gave away in my 20's to things that didn't get me where I want to be. I know where I want to be now, so I am looking very carefully.
I have mentioned before that I am loyal to a fault, and sometimes to my own detriment. When I think about it, I'm not exactly sure where the kind of fierce loyalty I practice comes from. I don't have memories of some childhood lesson learned, or of this being presented as a value in the home I grew up in in words or deeds. If anything, I saw some pretty strong examples of reasons why sticking to someone or something can be more difficult than it's worth. Nevertheless, here I sit as one of the most determinedly steadfast people I know. I stick by people even when it makes no sense. I stick by people who have hurt me, or done things I don't condone. I have stuck by people and my caring for them even as they go to jail or make horrible mistakes they cannot take back. I have stuck by friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, and family when they have not earned it I have stuck by jobs even when I am frustrated or not making enough. I do this, and meanwhile do a killer job at whatever it is even when I think I deserve better. On a near daily basis I support policies that I disagree with out of loyalty and professionalism. I stuck it out in school even when my adviser abused me and stole from me, and when I realized that she had treated other students just as badly if not worse. Moreover, I finished my master's in her lab and thus ran her lab and advised her students for her.
Once I'm in, I'm all in.
I was talking with a good friend recently and he said, "I'm totally committed. You'd think it was a good thing but it's not." And I know just exactly how that feels.
I gain so much from this. I have gained the ability to forgive and move on (though it takes me awhile). I have kept friends I would have lost if I was faster to close the door. I have the ability to not give up on someone where other people would walk out and not look back.I assume my children will one day benefit from the deep value I have to commit.
If I had to guess, I would say this latching on and not giving up is about a few things. First, I am bad at giving up. I don't quit. I don't give in. I had a client a few years ago who made it her mission to make things very hard on the company, and since I was the representative of the company, her evil quest was directed at me. I remember saying to my bosses boss when she had made her most recent war volley that, "She picked the wrong person if she thinks this means I will give up. Because I will just dig my heels in harder." It took me forever to leave grad school, even though I had every reason to. (and I didn't exactly quit so much as I left at an appropriate juncture) It took me an extra year to get my black belt, and I just kept at it. I grew up with the message in my ear that math wasn't my thing. So, of course, after picking the one college where taking a math class wasn't required (no grades, tests, pre-set majors or required courses at Hampshire College) I "minored" in math. I don't give up.
The other issue is that I see what is good in almost everyone I meet, even people who really friggen annoy me. I see the good in the person who bags my groceries with tomatoes on the bottom of the bag. And I have a nice conversation with him. I see the good in the cop who pulls me over out of boredom (and says, "you were almost going over the speed limit."). I see the good in the family member who abandons me and my affection. I look for the better side hiding underneath the good in the friend who gave me a hard time. I see the good in the boyfriend who was pathologically not there for me and expected me to give, and give, and give. (When he left me in the town I had moved to for his benefit days after my father had died claiming somehow that that loss was more about his unresolved family feelings than mine, I stopped seeing the good . . . six months later. We don't refer to him by his given name anymore.)
It's hard for me to close the door on anything I have invested in - a job, a friendship, a degree, a person I love. For me, I call this the "used car problem." See, I've only ever owned used cars. and some of them were more used than others. When you get a great deal on a used car, you have to also plan that some of the money you saved will go into keeping the car alive. I'm also pretty on top of regular maintenance. So, at some point, I would look at each car and think, "How much more money will I put into you?" On my last car before this one, I replaced the battery, hoses, two tires, brakes and two drums, an important component of the electrical system, and water pump. That added up to more than I had paid for it in the first place. Of course, it didn't happen all at once. I invested a little bit at a time over 5 years. Somewhere in the third year I had the thought, "Do I really want to put this work into the car?" But then thought, "well, I've invested tires and brakes already, so I might as well pay the $300 for this repair."
It happens a little at a time, and it totally is the good money-after-bad issue. Only, with people, it's hard to see when the money turns bad. Well, for me anyways. If I don't give up on things, it seems just plain wrong to walk away from people.
The problem, of course, comes when people like my friend and I throw our lot in for the long haul and then get taken for everything we're worth. It's easy for someone who doesn't intend to be manipulative to take advantage of the capacity for commitment, and the large amount of loyalty. For someone who is needy, demanding, or a "taker" it's even easier. And let's just say that I have had my arm twisted professionally in the past.
When I allow this to happen, sometimes I get to keep someone or something in my life that deserves my investment, and sometimes I end up having to file a restraining order (true story). I am getting better at finding better used cars to begin with. My standards are going up. But my investments go up too.
I am working really hard these days to examine all my loyalties and see which ones best serve me. I am investigating deep, deep down to think if the people, places, jobs, and activities I put so much of myself into to see if I get enough out of it. I have found myself recently saying at work, "well, there's only one of me so I had to _____." I need to think this way more often.
There's only one of me. And I only get one today. One life. One heart. I need to . . . if not protect it, at least be very choosey. Otherwise I could give too much of myself to things that don't work for me. I feel really sad when I think about the time I gave away in my 20's to things that didn't get me where I want to be. I know where I want to be now, so I am looking very carefully.
Monday, September 19, 2011
9 not-so-simple tricks
I had major IT issues today. And since the IT solution to everything always starts with downloading something and then restarting my computer, I did. After this giant problem (which plagued everyone at work, but hit me harder and in different ways because I am a remote worker and "off the system" ) I had to restart everything, and when my web browser opened, because it defaulted to MSN's home page, it opened up to a scroll of daily articles. One of them was titled, "9 quick tricks that cut calories." Of course I had to look.
It was an interesting read for me, not just in terms of getting good ideas, but in realizing that I already had a lot of this down or have adjusted to fit me better.read down and click on the individual slides. I had varying reactions when I read these from "oh, that's a good idea," to "yup, that works. I should do it more consistently" to "what?!"
1. Take note - logging food. People who logged their food were found to be able to lose twice as much as those who don't. This is because people often underestimate what they are actually putting in their mouths.
I do log my food. Sometimes I forget, but when I do it I am completely honest. Even if what I have to log is that I ate a bowl of popcorn for dinner. What works a treat about it is that when I log, I not only practice accountability and consider my serving sizes (which is the point), but I also end up doing some planning. Oh, I had Greek yogurt for breakfast so I should probably limit dairy for the rest of the day. Chicken for lunch, so I need to have eggs or fish for dinner. Three servings of veggies, at least 2-3 more! What doesn't work about this is that sometimes I get busy and forget to log my food. Right now I have an adorable little journal I carry around in my purse, and I'm getting better at it, but sometimes days slip by. This slide has inspired me to be more religious about it.
2. Find Balance - sometimes dieters get overwhelmed with counting calories, so this is suggesting that instead of counting every ounce and morsel people just try to balance their plates with 1/3rd vegetables, 1/3rd protein, and 1/3rd whole grains.
This sounds so good in theory. It can get time consuming to count calories, and for someone like me, absolute value of calories matters, but what matters almost as much is the source and quality of those calories. (Not all calories are created equal! 400 calories of protein and vegetables is not equivalent to 400 calories of beer) But, even 6 years ago we knew that grains needed a smaller place in the food pyramid. And now, we have something newer and more fine tuned that represents how many vegetables we really should be eating.So, I don't know about this 1/3rd of your plate in carbs thing.
More to the point, at least in my case, if I eat a third of my food in carbs, I will eat an amount of unneeded (and often unintended) calories equal to those carbs because those carbs will bump up my cravings and alter my blood sugar stability. In my world, carbs breed the need for more carbs. That's how over-zealous insulin works. So, the better plate for me is one where it's a smaller plate, and 2/3rds of it is covered with vegetables, some of them raw. And the rest with protein and maybe a smidge of dairy. Fruit about once a day.
3. Swap Smart - basically, the message here is that you can't deny yourself everything, but at the same time you can't have everything you want and still lose weight. So, if you want a treat, have a small one, but don't still have your sweet coffee drink, pretzels, or for yo too.
This I totally agree with . . . to a point. It can't be the case that people never eat a donut, cookie, or have a pumpkin latte again. That's not the real world. On the other hand, for me, having that cookie, even twice a week or so, will derail my results so much that it will demotivate me to the point of having that cookie every day, and then twice a day, and then in come the Cheezits and hello FRED! So, I need to not only give myself the cookie and then take something else away in its place, I need to pick and choose my moments to eat off plan VERY carefully, and keep those moments VERY isolated.
4. Scale Back - try cutting back on serving sizes by putting cereal in mug or dinner on a salad plate.
Duh. Serving sizes are one of the biggest problems we have created for ourselves. The next time you go to a restaurant, notice what they serve your entree on. It's the serving platter size in a dish set, not the dinner plate size! Having said all that, I do sometimes really blow it when it comes to serving sizes. See above - logging is good. Also, looking up some simple things about serving sizes can be helpful. When you read the calories, fat content, and protein per serving . . . pay attention to what the serving size listed there is! I've noticed it is so often smaller than what we normally serve up. How much is a serving of chicken or fish? About the size of a deck of cards. What IS 2 oz of shredded cheese? Get a scale. It's hard work, but worth retraining on this stuff. At least for me.
5. Slurp your starters - when eating out, have a broth based soup. It's filling and healthy and can help you eat less.
This works! Whenever I go for sushi, I get miso. Not only is it tasty, it is hot, simple, nutritious, and filling.
Other tips - I eat something fresh, raw, and high in fiber before going out. Apples! Broccoli! I go in filled up, and it keeps me from munching mindlessly on bread or chips and salsa.
Also, as much as possible, I look up menus before I go so I can go in with a game plan. And if I'm not getting a salad, I do try to ask for a box so I can split my meal into what I'm eating now and put away the part that is more than my serving size.
6. Slow down - try sipping water and even setting your fork down between bites. If the meal takes longer you are more likely not only to be more satisfied, but to know when you are full and not keep eating past your full point.
This works so well, except it's hard. I often have to eat in my car or very quickly before I get in my car. But even for eating small snacks, I do find that if I slow down, and eat mindfully, really paying attention to what I'm tasting, chewing it, and my other sensations, I enjoy my food more. And I eat less
7. Nosh often - eat smaller amounts more often throughout the day. This keeps your metabolism fueled all day as well as keeping you from being uber-hungry and then going overboard and eating too much in one sitting
This is a mainstay of EVERY sound eating plan. And there's a simple reason: eating makes your metabolism fires burn higher. Yes, that's right - eating makes you burn more calories. I know this sounds backwards, but every time you eat, it causes your endocrine system to fire up. The problem comes when I eat more than my metabolism can burn. But if I eat small amount, 4 - 6 times a day, it usually works out. And as a bonus, I'm never hungry or blood sugar crashing and I have more energy to work out, and more endorphins.
8. Pick Protein - protein is important for building lean muscle, which helps burn more calories. and it is also more filling so it should be part of every meal.
For me this is another no-brainer, but it also can be hard. I am the pickiest person in the known western world when it comes to knowing where my dead animal came from. It takes WORK for me to find chicken and meat and fish that I'm ok with, but it's valuable to do it if it means I can eat less carbs without feeling the loss so much. Plus, muscles are hot.
9. Beat Bloat - something about drinking water with lemon, and not eating too much broccoli.
I seriously don't know what this is about. I will not relinquish my broccoli.
So, the lesson here is that I'm doing quite a lot of what is recommended. As a result, my calories are fewer and my weight decreases as well. But it's probably worth paying attention to the places where I sometimes fall down on the job. I think it's also important to look at something else - whatever tips are here, there's also my explanation of making it work in my own life. Maybe there are places where I'm shorting myself results by messing around with the "formula" but there are probably just as many places where I made adjustments for the better. If I did nothing but apply a formula, I'd fail every time.
I know this because when I try to apply an equation to my eating and exercise without taking into account the variables, I fail. Every. Time. If I don't make it work within my real life, all it does is create an un-real life that I can't keep up with after a week or two.
So, simple tricks, but making them really work means factoring in how it works in my life. We'll see what the nutritionist says about this in a couple of weeks.
It was an interesting read for me, not just in terms of getting good ideas, but in realizing that I already had a lot of this down or have adjusted to fit me better.read down and click on the individual slides. I had varying reactions when I read these from "oh, that's a good idea," to "yup, that works. I should do it more consistently" to "what?!"
1. Take note - logging food. People who logged their food were found to be able to lose twice as much as those who don't. This is because people often underestimate what they are actually putting in their mouths.
I do log my food. Sometimes I forget, but when I do it I am completely honest. Even if what I have to log is that I ate a bowl of popcorn for dinner. What works a treat about it is that when I log, I not only practice accountability and consider my serving sizes (which is the point), but I also end up doing some planning. Oh, I had Greek yogurt for breakfast so I should probably limit dairy for the rest of the day. Chicken for lunch, so I need to have eggs or fish for dinner. Three servings of veggies, at least 2-3 more! What doesn't work about this is that sometimes I get busy and forget to log my food. Right now I have an adorable little journal I carry around in my purse, and I'm getting better at it, but sometimes days slip by. This slide has inspired me to be more religious about it.
2. Find Balance - sometimes dieters get overwhelmed with counting calories, so this is suggesting that instead of counting every ounce and morsel people just try to balance their plates with 1/3rd vegetables, 1/3rd protein, and 1/3rd whole grains.
This sounds so good in theory. It can get time consuming to count calories, and for someone like me, absolute value of calories matters, but what matters almost as much is the source and quality of those calories. (Not all calories are created equal! 400 calories of protein and vegetables is not equivalent to 400 calories of beer) But, even 6 years ago we knew that grains needed a smaller place in the food pyramid. And now, we have something newer and more fine tuned that represents how many vegetables we really should be eating.So, I don't know about this 1/3rd of your plate in carbs thing.
More to the point, at least in my case, if I eat a third of my food in carbs, I will eat an amount of unneeded (and often unintended) calories equal to those carbs because those carbs will bump up my cravings and alter my blood sugar stability. In my world, carbs breed the need for more carbs. That's how over-zealous insulin works. So, the better plate for me is one where it's a smaller plate, and 2/3rds of it is covered with vegetables, some of them raw. And the rest with protein and maybe a smidge of dairy. Fruit about once a day.
3. Swap Smart - basically, the message here is that you can't deny yourself everything, but at the same time you can't have everything you want and still lose weight. So, if you want a treat, have a small one, but don't still have your sweet coffee drink, pretzels, or for yo too.
This I totally agree with . . . to a point. It can't be the case that people never eat a donut, cookie, or have a pumpkin latte again. That's not the real world. On the other hand, for me, having that cookie, even twice a week or so, will derail my results so much that it will demotivate me to the point of having that cookie every day, and then twice a day, and then in come the Cheezits and hello FRED! So, I need to not only give myself the cookie and then take something else away in its place, I need to pick and choose my moments to eat off plan VERY carefully, and keep those moments VERY isolated.
4. Scale Back - try cutting back on serving sizes by putting cereal in mug or dinner on a salad plate.
Duh. Serving sizes are one of the biggest problems we have created for ourselves. The next time you go to a restaurant, notice what they serve your entree on. It's the serving platter size in a dish set, not the dinner plate size! Having said all that, I do sometimes really blow it when it comes to serving sizes. See above - logging is good. Also, looking up some simple things about serving sizes can be helpful. When you read the calories, fat content, and protein per serving . . . pay attention to what the serving size listed there is! I've noticed it is so often smaller than what we normally serve up. How much is a serving of chicken or fish? About the size of a deck of cards. What IS 2 oz of shredded cheese? Get a scale. It's hard work, but worth retraining on this stuff. At least for me.
5. Slurp your starters - when eating out, have a broth based soup. It's filling and healthy and can help you eat less.
This works! Whenever I go for sushi, I get miso. Not only is it tasty, it is hot, simple, nutritious, and filling.
Other tips - I eat something fresh, raw, and high in fiber before going out. Apples! Broccoli! I go in filled up, and it keeps me from munching mindlessly on bread or chips and salsa.
Also, as much as possible, I look up menus before I go so I can go in with a game plan. And if I'm not getting a salad, I do try to ask for a box so I can split my meal into what I'm eating now and put away the part that is more than my serving size.
6. Slow down - try sipping water and even setting your fork down between bites. If the meal takes longer you are more likely not only to be more satisfied, but to know when you are full and not keep eating past your full point.
This works so well, except it's hard. I often have to eat in my car or very quickly before I get in my car. But even for eating small snacks, I do find that if I slow down, and eat mindfully, really paying attention to what I'm tasting, chewing it, and my other sensations, I enjoy my food more. And I eat less
7. Nosh often - eat smaller amounts more often throughout the day. This keeps your metabolism fueled all day as well as keeping you from being uber-hungry and then going overboard and eating too much in one sitting
This is a mainstay of EVERY sound eating plan. And there's a simple reason: eating makes your metabolism fires burn higher. Yes, that's right - eating makes you burn more calories. I know this sounds backwards, but every time you eat, it causes your endocrine system to fire up. The problem comes when I eat more than my metabolism can burn. But if I eat small amount, 4 - 6 times a day, it usually works out. And as a bonus, I'm never hungry or blood sugar crashing and I have more energy to work out, and more endorphins.
8. Pick Protein - protein is important for building lean muscle, which helps burn more calories. and it is also more filling so it should be part of every meal.
For me this is another no-brainer, but it also can be hard. I am the pickiest person in the known western world when it comes to knowing where my dead animal came from. It takes WORK for me to find chicken and meat and fish that I'm ok with, but it's valuable to do it if it means I can eat less carbs without feeling the loss so much. Plus, muscles are hot.
9. Beat Bloat - something about drinking water with lemon, and not eating too much broccoli.
I seriously don't know what this is about. I will not relinquish my broccoli.
So, the lesson here is that I'm doing quite a lot of what is recommended. As a result, my calories are fewer and my weight decreases as well. But it's probably worth paying attention to the places where I sometimes fall down on the job. I think it's also important to look at something else - whatever tips are here, there's also my explanation of making it work in my own life. Maybe there are places where I'm shorting myself results by messing around with the "formula" but there are probably just as many places where I made adjustments for the better. If I did nothing but apply a formula, I'd fail every time.
I know this because when I try to apply an equation to my eating and exercise without taking into account the variables, I fail. Every. Time. If I don't make it work within my real life, all it does is create an un-real life that I can't keep up with after a week or two.
So, simple tricks, but making them really work means factoring in how it works in my life. We'll see what the nutritionist says about this in a couple of weeks.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
babies
Babies.
I wants them.
They don't necessarily need to come from me in order for me to raise them happily, but I want them. I have often said that how I feel about kids is that the HAVING of them isn't what most interests me as much as the RAISING of them. That part, well, that part I am bout 3 years overdue for getting a chance to do.
It's easy to look at me, and my life, and my age, gender and biology and say this is about some clock that ticks and tocks and tells me what to do. I truly don't think it is. I think instead that a long time ago I decided that having kids may not be possible, likely, safe, or even all that interesting to me, but that raising them was something I really looked forward to. Since my teens I have talked about adopting and so when it became clearer that biology was not in my favor of having I thought that it was probably not a coincidence that I had identified earlier that where the child came from was less important to me than to many others. That being said, I think I understand those who fight hard, and spend time, money and heartbreak after heartbreak to have them. (I have more friends than I can easily reckon who have gone through some pretty serious medical stuff to get pregnant, and because I have friends who are in same-sex couples that means I also have friends who have no choice but to go this route or adopt. ) Raising a child is a massive job, and while the rewards are great, the emotional, financial, and logistical costs are huge too. For some, this is not a job they can feel truly motivated for unless they are plugged into a biological connection. I respect that. We were built to reproduce, after all, so it shouldn't be surprising that biology and reproducing of ones' self is part of the equation for many. It just isn't for me.
I'm not so sure that my genetics are so important to pass on. (Actually, my brothers and I have often remarked I literally and figuratively got the short end of the stick in our family. I try not to blame my parents too much since I was their first and they didn't know what they were doing. ) And my biology seems to agree to a certain degree, by limiting my ability to accomplish that anyways. It's ok by me because I think that what is most interesting about me is my outlook on the world, my capacity to love and guide and teach, and my commitment to keep learning, not what's in my genes. And I think I can pass that on to a child who isn't biologically attached to me. Since I do form deep, loving connections with children who aren't "mine" (and since I've had the ability to notice this by being a nanny, having a foster brother who was very young when I was in my 20's, and meeting other children who are still close to my heart along the way) I think I'm an excellent candidate to adopt.
Except, you know, I'm not because while my head and heart are ready, my life isn't. A lot of my campaign to become healthier, and examine the direction my life and career are about taking hold of what I feel is the right time to have children. I need to keep the things that are working for me while throwing out the things that are empty, more difficult than they should be, or just huge time-wasters or energy-drainers for me. In the end, it is about wanting to get more ready for kids and having more to offer them, if I'm being very truthful.
I've been patient, I've picked out people I thought would be good parents. And yet, mysteriously, although I thought I might have kids by now, I don't. This is hard for me to swallow. I always had a plan (and you know how I feel about plans) that if I ended up alone I would just go for it and be a single parent. And so it seems like now is the time . . . so, why no babies?
There are logistical issues, like the fact that I work too much, and yet don't make enough. Also, my schedule changes from day to day and week to week, and that doesn't allow me much stability. And I believe kids really need stability and structure. And maybe just as importantly, the kind of mom I want to be requires having more time than I have now. I want to be the mom who can cook dinners at home, play, and read every night. I want to be a mom that can stay home when my kid is sick and needs to stay home. I want my kids to have parents who actively seek opportunities for them to be exposed to new things, learn, and be stimulated. I want to take my kids to the library each week for story times and picking out new books, and I want to know where the local Children's museum is so we can go often. And right now, my job doesn't nurture me to be that kind of person for myself, much less anyone else in my charge.
The bigger problem is that . . . I'm scared. I think all parents are scared, but single parents seem to live in a perpetual state of survival mode.
Before I seem to be a complete wuss, let me say this. I've done my homework on this. By which I mean I have spent a lot of time with my friends who have kids. The few friends I have who have arrived at single parent-hood did it through circumstance, not choice. And they get a lot of help from extended family. I don't really have that option.
And all of the rest of my mommy and daddy friends? Well, they are amazingly happy to be at this point in their life, but not shy about sharing the hardships. There is, of course, a lot of talk about the loss of sleep. But also talk about expense. And the struggle it is for the couple to enjoy each other and their relationship. The new worries, thoughts, and plans. The time. The time. The time.
I have friends who have one parent home with their child, and those who go back to work within 6-8 weeks. I have friends whose children are adopted, and friends who struggled for years to get pregnant. I have friends who are married and raising children, and those who are together but not married. I have friends whose marriages are not recognized in my country (for which I am deeply ashamed and angered). Regardless of how they make their family, everyone tells me they are constantly thoughtful about whether or not they are giving their children enough - enough time, enough attention, enough resources, enough good role models and experiences.
My friends who are at home with their children feel simultaneously blessed and privileged to be able to do it, and guilty that they aren't working. They are worried that this time "off" will be counted against them when they do go back to work and anxious what their children are learning about gender roles and who stays home vs. who goes to work. Meanwhile, my friends who go back to work are tired, run down, and always carrying the guilt of feeling they neither giving enough time to their jobs or their children. I hear it from the two mommy families, from the moms and dads alike, from all of them. It seems it feels to them like no matter what they do, there are mis-steps and very often the concern of not enough of themselves to go around.
So, how will it be for my children? Likely adopted, and thus in even greater need of time and attention to bond. I can't be in such a rush to bring the children home that will someday be the children I raise that I overlook that. I have to think about the fact that I struggle to find time to unload the dishwasher or the stability in my schedule to eat regular meals and that my children will need clean dishes and food every day. (I know, kids are sooo demanding!)
It's hard for me to wait. I'm actually a pretty patient person (despite what my family thinks of me, I am willing to wait, put work in, and be determined for a long time when it's worth it to me). But I've been waiting since my 20's. And in my 20's I felt like, "ohhh, it's ok. I'm only 26, 27, 28." Now it feels like alarm bells going off every time I pass an adorable baby in the store, or see cute little clothes, or when the next person I know is expecting. Which, honestly, is just about everyone at this point. I love shopping for gifts for them. I really do. Because I love them, and I want their babies to know love and support and resources. (It is my deep belief that children can never have too many people loving them. and that their parents need a community of love and support too. It takes a village, yes, but that same village needs to be there for the parents too, and so, we all need to be there for each other to support in the difficult times and to love and celebrate in the good ones) I've made a fine art of it baby-shopping, actually. It isn't a case of, "I'm happy for _______ BUT . . . ." It's very much, "I'm happy for ___________ AND I wish I could do this too. Now please." With each baby shower, with every birth announcement, I am glad and rejoice for my friends and co-workers. AND I feel also a deep stinging reminder of the thing I most want and haven't achieved.
So, I really don't feel like I can rush right out and bring home a kid. But I wish it were otherwise. In the meantime, I need to take care of myself, and keep this hope in my heart: that when the time is right, I will have children and be a better parent than I could be now.
I wants them.
They don't necessarily need to come from me in order for me to raise them happily, but I want them. I have often said that how I feel about kids is that the HAVING of them isn't what most interests me as much as the RAISING of them. That part, well, that part I am bout 3 years overdue for getting a chance to do.
It's easy to look at me, and my life, and my age, gender and biology and say this is about some clock that ticks and tocks and tells me what to do. I truly don't think it is. I think instead that a long time ago I decided that having kids may not be possible, likely, safe, or even all that interesting to me, but that raising them was something I really looked forward to. Since my teens I have talked about adopting and so when it became clearer that biology was not in my favor of having I thought that it was probably not a coincidence that I had identified earlier that where the child came from was less important to me than to many others. That being said, I think I understand those who fight hard, and spend time, money and heartbreak after heartbreak to have them. (I have more friends than I can easily reckon who have gone through some pretty serious medical stuff to get pregnant, and because I have friends who are in same-sex couples that means I also have friends who have no choice but to go this route or adopt. ) Raising a child is a massive job, and while the rewards are great, the emotional, financial, and logistical costs are huge too. For some, this is not a job they can feel truly motivated for unless they are plugged into a biological connection. I respect that. We were built to reproduce, after all, so it shouldn't be surprising that biology and reproducing of ones' self is part of the equation for many. It just isn't for me.
I'm not so sure that my genetics are so important to pass on. (Actually, my brothers and I have often remarked I literally and figuratively got the short end of the stick in our family. I try not to blame my parents too much since I was their first and they didn't know what they were doing. ) And my biology seems to agree to a certain degree, by limiting my ability to accomplish that anyways. It's ok by me because I think that what is most interesting about me is my outlook on the world, my capacity to love and guide and teach, and my commitment to keep learning, not what's in my genes. And I think I can pass that on to a child who isn't biologically attached to me. Since I do form deep, loving connections with children who aren't "mine" (and since I've had the ability to notice this by being a nanny, having a foster brother who was very young when I was in my 20's, and meeting other children who are still close to my heart along the way) I think I'm an excellent candidate to adopt.
Except, you know, I'm not because while my head and heart are ready, my life isn't. A lot of my campaign to become healthier, and examine the direction my life and career are about taking hold of what I feel is the right time to have children. I need to keep the things that are working for me while throwing out the things that are empty, more difficult than they should be, or just huge time-wasters or energy-drainers for me. In the end, it is about wanting to get more ready for kids and having more to offer them, if I'm being very truthful.
I've been patient, I've picked out people I thought would be good parents. And yet, mysteriously, although I thought I might have kids by now, I don't. This is hard for me to swallow. I always had a plan (and you know how I feel about plans) that if I ended up alone I would just go for it and be a single parent. And so it seems like now is the time . . . so, why no babies?
There are logistical issues, like the fact that I work too much, and yet don't make enough. Also, my schedule changes from day to day and week to week, and that doesn't allow me much stability. And I believe kids really need stability and structure. And maybe just as importantly, the kind of mom I want to be requires having more time than I have now. I want to be the mom who can cook dinners at home, play, and read every night. I want to be a mom that can stay home when my kid is sick and needs to stay home. I want my kids to have parents who actively seek opportunities for them to be exposed to new things, learn, and be stimulated. I want to take my kids to the library each week for story times and picking out new books, and I want to know where the local Children's museum is so we can go often. And right now, my job doesn't nurture me to be that kind of person for myself, much less anyone else in my charge.
The bigger problem is that . . . I'm scared. I think all parents are scared, but single parents seem to live in a perpetual state of survival mode.
Before I seem to be a complete wuss, let me say this. I've done my homework on this. By which I mean I have spent a lot of time with my friends who have kids. The few friends I have who have arrived at single parent-hood did it through circumstance, not choice. And they get a lot of help from extended family. I don't really have that option.
And all of the rest of my mommy and daddy friends? Well, they are amazingly happy to be at this point in their life, but not shy about sharing the hardships. There is, of course, a lot of talk about the loss of sleep. But also talk about expense. And the struggle it is for the couple to enjoy each other and their relationship. The new worries, thoughts, and plans. The time. The time. The time.
I have friends who have one parent home with their child, and those who go back to work within 6-8 weeks. I have friends whose children are adopted, and friends who struggled for years to get pregnant. I have friends who are married and raising children, and those who are together but not married. I have friends whose marriages are not recognized in my country (for which I am deeply ashamed and angered). Regardless of how they make their family, everyone tells me they are constantly thoughtful about whether or not they are giving their children enough - enough time, enough attention, enough resources, enough good role models and experiences.
My friends who are at home with their children feel simultaneously blessed and privileged to be able to do it, and guilty that they aren't working. They are worried that this time "off" will be counted against them when they do go back to work and anxious what their children are learning about gender roles and who stays home vs. who goes to work. Meanwhile, my friends who go back to work are tired, run down, and always carrying the guilt of feeling they neither giving enough time to their jobs or their children. I hear it from the two mommy families, from the moms and dads alike, from all of them. It seems it feels to them like no matter what they do, there are mis-steps and very often the concern of not enough of themselves to go around.
So, how will it be for my children? Likely adopted, and thus in even greater need of time and attention to bond. I can't be in such a rush to bring the children home that will someday be the children I raise that I overlook that. I have to think about the fact that I struggle to find time to unload the dishwasher or the stability in my schedule to eat regular meals and that my children will need clean dishes and food every day. (I know, kids are sooo demanding!)
It's hard for me to wait. I'm actually a pretty patient person (despite what my family thinks of me, I am willing to wait, put work in, and be determined for a long time when it's worth it to me). But I've been waiting since my 20's. And in my 20's I felt like, "ohhh, it's ok. I'm only 26, 27, 28." Now it feels like alarm bells going off every time I pass an adorable baby in the store, or see cute little clothes, or when the next person I know is expecting. Which, honestly, is just about everyone at this point. I love shopping for gifts for them. I really do. Because I love them, and I want their babies to know love and support and resources. (It is my deep belief that children can never have too many people loving them. and that their parents need a community of love and support too. It takes a village, yes, but that same village needs to be there for the parents too, and so, we all need to be there for each other to support in the difficult times and to love and celebrate in the good ones) I've made a fine art of it baby-shopping, actually. It isn't a case of, "I'm happy for _______ BUT . . . ." It's very much, "I'm happy for ___________ AND I wish I could do this too. Now please." With each baby shower, with every birth announcement, I am glad and rejoice for my friends and co-workers. AND I feel also a deep stinging reminder of the thing I most want and haven't achieved.
So, I really don't feel like I can rush right out and bring home a kid. But I wish it were otherwise. In the meantime, I need to take care of myself, and keep this hope in my heart: that when the time is right, I will have children and be a better parent than I could be now.
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