Life In Training

Only In My Dreams

2011-11-09T22:35:00.000-08:00

The NaBloPoMo prompt for tomorrow, “What is your secret (or not so secret) passion?” got me thinking about some jobs I’ve pipe dreamed about having throughout the years.

1. NFL Referee. I like sports. Being the tomboy and daddy’s girl that I am, I always have. Not to the extent that I wanted to seriously play football outside of the occasional game of flag or touch. But there was a time when I thought “maybe I could officiate!” Not knowing where or how to start down that career tract, the dream was abandoned and forgotten until recently.

I’m still astonished that there have not yet been any female NFL refs, although apparently there are some “in the pipeline.” Good for them! Wish I were one of them!

2. Chef/restaurant owner. I may have mentioned recently that I like food. What’s more, I love to create in the kitchen. When I was younger, I would even pretend to run a restaurant and make dinner for my parents. I think my mom was concerned that a career in food would only make my food problems worse. From where I’m standing, it looks like a draw.

3. Debbie Gibson. No, seriously. I wanted to be Debbie Gibson when I grew up. I was a ham when I was a kid. And I was deeply entrenched in the Gibson camp in the teen queen rivalry between Debbie and Tiffany. I’m happy to see they’ve put that all behind them and can make fun of themselves on Syfy.

Ah, the Foolish Beat of the Electric Youth.

Makin' Time

2011-11-07T22:25:00.000-08:00

Just the other day, a friend asked me, "How do you do it all?"

Let's start at the beginning (of sorts). I work full time, commute two hours a day, have a husband (aka Fella), and a two-year-old son (aka 4.0). I try to get homemade (OK, semi-homemade) dinners on the table most nights. And in my "spare time" I also belong to a philanthropic women's group that affords me opportunities to volunteer and give back to my community. I'm blessed to have our moms to watch 4.0 during the week, who also lend a hand after those nights I'm especially ambitious and there's clean laundry to fold.

So sure I do a lot, but I certainly don't do it all.

And since my son arrived, there have definitely been parts of my life that have suffered, especially in the relationships department. Thanks be to social networking that I still have friends at all! But I'm learning to not be so hard on myself for not being able to do it all. And that the people that matter the most will always understand.

Aaaand We're Back!

2011-11-06T22:00:00.000-08:00

Last week, a local cable company came and cut our service alleging that our service provider was using their line illegally. Without notice. Our service provider took two days and came out Friday to make amends. In the process, the technician cut the line to our phone and internet service (from yet a third provider).

By the time we were able to send our a smoke signal yesterday, it was too late to get a same-day house call. But they made it out this morning, and restored service. Except that our network settings were reset and I had to call for tech support AGAIN to get connected. And then reset both computers and our printer. And I still have to reset my dad's computer when he comes over on Tuesday.

Sigh.

First world problems.

A.K.A. The Human Jukebox

2011-11-03T22:24:00.000-07:00

Thursday's prompt: Can you listen to music and write? What song did you hear today?

Throughout school I always needed to listen to music when I studied and wrote papers. So naturally I can still listen to music and write. Although, I don’t much tend to have music on while I write anymore. Like tonight, it was the hum of a two-week old episode of Criminal Minds. And at work, I find myself listening to podcasts more frequently. That is, until I find myself not concentrating on the talk. At which point I’ll throw on some tunes. But I’ve always been a music-oriented person. In the fourth grade I was known as the girl who knew every song in the world (a fourth grader's world is pretty small). And there’s a reason why now my co-workers call me the Human Jukebox.

Better Late Than Never

2011-11-03T21:34:00.000-07:00

Wednesday's prompt was this: If you knew that whatever you ate next would be your last meal, what would you want it to be?

I tried to tackle a similar question earlier in the year in the short lived Saturday Seven post series. And when I sat down to write my list it felt inadequate. Not only did I want all of my favorites, but I wanted all of the food experiences that I’ve yet to have in my life (Chez Panisse, French Laundry, etc.)

You see, I like food. OK, I love food. You might even say I have a ready for a twelve step program food problem. But that’s beside the point.

So what would you want your last meal to be? I’d want it to be my last chance to sit down to share a meal with friends and family, whatever ended up on the table. I’d want it to be the experience of a lifetime with the people I love in my life. I’d want it to be a celebration of life and a bon voyage for whatever I was destined for next.

I’d want it to be one helluva party.

NaBloPoMo

2011-11-01T22:24:00.000-07:00

I'm joining my friend over at Am I A Funny Girl? in NaBloPoMo. I've tried NaNoWriMo in the past and that went nowhere real fast. And since I need to get a little momentum here, it's a perfect fit. I'll be using the daily prompts and then some (I hope!)

What is your favorite part of writing?

Writing is a lot of things to me: cathartic, creative, some other C-word to round out this alliteration. But my favorite part of writing is the entertainment of the entire process. It’s the very reason I started to blog.

I was finishing law school and, as the saying goes, they were doing a bang up job at boring me to death in my third year. So to entertain myself, I started a blog. Along the way I picked up a few followers and it quickly became about entertaining them, as well.

Now there seems to be less time to sit down at the keyboard to play the entertainer, but even if I can once in a blue moon put something out there to make one reader happy, even if it's just me or a family member, it makes me very happy, too.

A Long Lunch Down Memory Lane

2011-08-30T22:54:00.000-07:00

One bite. That’s all it took. One bite of my Caesar salad today and I was instantly transported back to the summers of my youth and our annual family vacation at Lakeside Inn and Resort in Whitehall, Michigan. Where I lived in the pool and was in love with the proprietor’s son.

The earthiness of the romaine and the buttery crunch of the crouton took me back to a time before Caesar salad was even in my lexicon. I only learned about Caesar salad sometime after my family had moved from a suburb of Chicago to a suburb of San Francisco, long after we took leave of the cottage where we would play Uno for hours on end.

A break in the Uno action.

It was where I cut my teeth swimming. I actually remember being in the pool in water wings, probably one of my first memories. We used the diving board so many times that it should have lost its spring. And imagine our astonishment the year we arrived to find that they added a waterslide to a corner of the pool. Christmas in July!

Swoon! There he is!!!

I remember sitting at the end of the resort dock, hanging my bamboo pole into the lake, and eagerly awaiting the first sign of a nibble. Someone said the fish I caught (and usually instructed to throw back) were sunfish. What did I know?! The same dock where we spent one Fourth of July, listening to Neil Diamond on my brother’s boom box and watching fireworks.

I remember taking what seemed like the longest walks to the White Duck Country Market to get the most bountiful scoops of ice cream I had ever seen. I usually got strawberry. Or chocolate. But never, ever plain ol’ vanilla.

One of the last years we were vacationed there, the resort even added a few pinball/arcade games to their amenities. For my preteen brother, this made passing the time more bearable even with his little sister often tagging along.

Eat your hearts out Griswolds!

I used to daydream about being a teenager and still vacationing there and the day when the owner’s son might finally take notice of me, but that was not meant to be. When we drove home in the summer of 1985, we probably weren’t even aware that we would not be returning the next year. Or that instead, the following summer would find my dad living and working at his new job in California with rest of us to follow that fall.

It took a little Googling, but I managed to find the website for Lakeside. And now that my nostalgia has gotten the best of me, I wish I could cancel the reservations we made last week for our sum--er, fall vacation in Santa Barbara and head to the Midwest instead. While that’s a pipe dream at its core, I hope that someday I will head there again to share the same experiences with my husband and son. And perhaps pop a cork with the boy of my childhood dreams who now sits at Lakeside’s helm, grooming the next generation of innkeepers.

Saturday Seven

2011-03-19T22:54:00.000-07:00

What is this Saturday Seven? My friend Lizz over at Am I a Funny Girl? began Saturday Seven earlier this year in an effort to blog more this year by pulling prompts from the book List Yourself: Listmaking as the Way to Self-Discovery. She’s invited friends to blog along, so here I go!

List mentors, dead or alive, you wish you could have access to.

1. Martha Stewart. She’s iconic. She’s a mogul. She’s my hero. Except for that whole stint up the river. If anyone is to be the poster child for rehabilitated criminals, it’s her. I seriously contemplated applying to her season of The Apprentice. Even more seriously than when I contemplated applying for the Bachelor the season Bob (of the Bachelorette fame) was up for grabs. I liked Bob a lot.

Where was I? Oh right.

Sometimes I still find myself looking at jobs with her company even though there’s less than zero chance my husband would agree to move our family clear across the country to NYC (I’m not even sure that he would agree to ever visit there). Most times I find I’m far inferior in talent and/or experience for most openings.

2. Julia Child. Talk about a groundbreaker. I remember watching her T.V. show with my mom and thinking she sounded funny. Half the time I couldn’t understand what she was saying. But now I’d like to eat, drink and be merry while learning all she has to share about…everything!

3. Giada De Laurentiis. Are you starting to see a trend?

I thought the first season of her show on the Food Network was abysmal. Not because she made bad food, but because she was so stiff, so unnatural in front of the camera. It was painful to watch. But back then I didn’t know she was descended from Hollywood royalty. Thank goodness she loosened up and came into her own, otherwise I would have been one short for this list.

While she hasn’t been as successful with the branding thing like Martha, I would love to cook with her and learn about life as a chef…who isn’t a restaurateur. And let’s face it, I’d LOVE to go shopping with her. In Italy.

4. The Pioneer Woman. I was a late arrival on the PW wagon trail. I was only introduced to her right when I returned to work after maternity leave in January 2010. Her love story, Black Heels to Tractor Wheels was so endearing and utterly hilarious. All I did the first week back in the office was read that story!

PW’s smart, witty and became a published cookbook author from the comfort of her Oklahoma cattle ranch.

5. My grandparents. (the ones who passed on before I could truly appreciate them).

My Farfar (that’s father’s father in Swedish). He passed before I was even a glimmer in my parents’ eyes. And even though he was practically a stranger even to my own father, I would have liked to have known him. I’m told he played the banjo and I’ve always wondered if that’s where my musicality came from. I’m not sure there’s much of anything else I could have learned from him, but isn’t the banjo enough?

My grampa. He passed away the day before my 19th birthday. He was a deeply religious man and a sports fanatic, especially for the Cubbies. And even though I had 19 years to spend with him, I feel like I didn’t really know him and my gut tells me I didn’t get to learn enough from him.

My Farmor (that’s father’s mother in Swedish). While I got much more time with her (she passed when I was just shy of 22) I resisted learning things from her that are important to me now. She was a single mom to two kids and worked as a nurse until she was in her 70s! And she still managed to keep so many Swedish traditions alive. My biggest regret is that I never learned how to make some of the traditional Swedish baked goods that she always had on hand. She was also unbelievable with a crochet needle. She tried to teach me both, but I didn’t have the patience for either at the times she tried.

6. Martha Graham. I didn’t dance enough when I could. I mean, I still can physically, it’s just not practical. I’m sure Martha would teach me otherwise.

7. Mireille Guiliano. Business woman. French. Not fat. I aspire to be two out of three of those things. She headed up Veuve Clicqot. She wrote a diet book (or three) and a fourth on women in business.

I don't know how the women on my list do it. Do it all and then some. I'd love their help figuring it out!

Something Much Heavier (an Op Ed)

2011-03-10T21:59:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning, an online petition started circulating among some of the women in my social network. The petition seeks an apology from the NY Times for this article that, in the mind of the petition organizer, inappropriate spin.

The NY Times reports the news. The journalist’s job, nay duty, is to retell the facts that make up that news. Certainly there is a call to find a compelling angle on a news story, but that doesn’t mean add a “spin.” Journalists are not supposed to proselytize for or against any particular viewpoint. They are supposed to be objective observers. And in my opinion, this particular journalist did just that.

There is no question that rape is tragic. No person deserves to be victimized in any way, the most horrific way being sexually. There is no disputing that rape is life altering for the victim. And, in some form, it irreparably changes the lives of the accused, despite guilt or innocence.

The case has rocked this East Texas community to its core and left many residents in the working-class neighborhood where the attack took place with unanswered questions.

I think that all too often we forget that bystanders are also affected by crime. We are mystified, left to wonder, “how could someone do that?” or, “what’s wrong with people?” and, the thought resonating in my mind lately, “how did we get to the point in this society that people are capable of ____?” In this instance the gang rape of an 11 year old girl.

I think we need to consider that sentiment when reading the NYT article about this small Texas town, rather than presume that the author is further victimizing the victim by his report. There was no report that people had actually said she had it coming, although admittedly the sentiment could be readily inferred by the account of the victim’s appearance. But I don’t believe that the reader should automatically make that inference.

How could their young men have been drawn into such an act?

As a mother to a boy, I would wonder the same thing. How did I fail my son in such a basic way that he thought it would be OK to participate in this type of activity, this horrendous crime, this depraved act? How could he even be associated with those who were implicated?

There have been 18 boys and men charged in this case. How did 18 sons of this small town allegedly participate in this atrocity? Was it nature or nurture that failed them and, in turn, their young victim? Or, is the peer pressure to follow the herd just that strong nowadays?

I have no illusions; there is undoubtedly people in that town that might be of the opinion that the girl had put herself in a compromising position by running with a much older crowd, predominately male. Was it imprudent? Sure. But that in no way condones or sanctions the actions of those boys and men. This should have never happened.

“I really wish that this could end in a better light.”

So the victim is now left to heal, while the accused are left to contemplate their wantonness and agonize over their fates. And the community is left to reconcile this atrocity that occurred right within their midst. And they probably will never make any sense of it; there is no bright side.

We should be up in arms over this. Not because some journalist made an astute account of the irreconcilable situation in a small town in East Texas, but because we are failing our boys and our girls. Failing to teach them to respect themselves and respect each other, failing to teach them basic common decency. That is something worth fighting for.

Speaking Of…

2011-03-04T21:45:00.000-08:00

As I struggled to fall asleep last night, my thoughts continued to turn to my dreams (not those abstract aspirations, but that shit the brain comes up with when you sleep). In general, the characters we meet in our dreams. And more specifically the celebrities!

I can’t recall having too many celebridreams, but here they are (in no particular order) to the best of my recollection:

1. Joel McHale. He invaded my dreams just a few weeks ago. Fella and I started catching Community while the networks were on the holiday break (or whatever) and showing repeats of the shows we world normally watch instead. Which also got us, or rather me, since Fella is a notorious couch narcolept, into The Soup on Friday nights as well. (Actually, I started trying to catch the repeats on Saturday morning while I was nursing 4.0 before he became to distractible to nurse in front of the tele).

Boobs! I digress.

Anyway, in my dream, JMcH was all smoldery like his character on Community can be and I was quite smitten. Not really a departure from real life, I’m pretty smitten with him. It’s no secret I like the mens who can make me laugh.

2. Pavement. They’re a band, folks. (Were a band?) Are a band! According to Wikipedia, they are once again a band. A touring band. Maybe.

Where was I?

So I had this dream that I was at Shoreline Amphitheater in Mountain View. And I was sitting in the middle section of the seat-area. Strange, because in real life, I have never, ever sat in the seats; I’m a lawn section kinda girl.

But then I realize I’m not just in the seats, I’m in the area where the sound & light boards are. And it turns out I’M WITH THE FUCKING BAND. Like, the singer is my boyfriend or something. And during the show he pulls me onstage and I perform with them. And it was awesome.

As much as the following admission may strip me of my newly acquired indie rock rep for not only knowing who Pavement is (was?), but dreaming about them to boot, I only own one of their albums (as long as it wasn’t stolen somewhere along the way). And I’ve never seen them live. And I probably wouldn’t be able to pick out any of the band members from a lineup to save my life.

But it was still a pretty sweet dream. I mean, it’s no secret I like the mens who play the music. It’s also no secret that when I was youmger I wanted to be a performer, especially one who sang. Two birds, one dream.

3. John Goodman. This might rank as the second most bizarre dream I have ever had in my life. I wish I had some sort of real-life context for it, like I was watching a lot of Roseanne reruns at the time or something, but there’s absolutely nothing.

So in my dream, John Goodman was the dad of some faceless, nameless friend of mine. And somehow he and I became…involved. Yes, that kind of involved. I had a sexy dream about John Goodman. And, while chubby myself, I am totally not a chubby-chaser (Fella is string bean-ish, as was Stark from my previous post).

And that’s all I have to say about that.

4. God. Now this is the number one most bizarre dream I, in all my 33 years, have ever had.

I dreamed that I died. And I went to heaven and all that. It was nice. Comfortable. Like my living room. And I had friends there. But ultimately I was sad--I missed my family.

So God said unto me: “I guess you weren’t ready for this after all,” and sent me back to life on earth.

And ever since I have wondered: was it just a dream? Or did I actually die in my sleep and, well, you know the rest?

My rather religious mom chose the just-a-dream theory. Probably more because she’s my mom and couldn’t deal with the thought that her daughter had died in her sleep. Even if God spoke to her. And in heaven of all places!

So those are my celebridreams. Which celebrities invade your dreams?

Strange Dream

2011-03-03T22:24:00.000-08:00

Last night I had a pretty bizarre dream. I was with a guy I dated* in college, in his present day kitchen. We were bantering and flirting while he made breakfast. Then in walks this hot, fit blonde chick with the haircut I’ll be getting soon. I’m like, who is this broad?

So I assert my dominance and speak first. “Hi, I’m Michelle.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Michelle; Stark** is my boyfriend,” she explains.

What?

“Oh, he…didn’t…mention. Well, my boyfrien--I mean, husband, Fella, is just getting ready in the bedroom.”

What??? Were we vacationing with him, er, them or something?!

That's pretty much it. It wasn’t a very involved or convoluted dream or anything (except perhaps the thinner, hotter version of me with the same name) but it was vivid and just strange. I hope I wasn’t talking in my sleep during the banter/flirt portion of the dream. That would be interesting to explain to Fella:

“Uh…well, uh…I was dreaming that I was flirting with this guy I used to make out with in college. In his kitchen.”

“You used to make out with this guy in his kitchen? That explains some things.”

“No! We were flirting in his kitchen. While he was making me breakfast."

Pause.

“But you were there, too. So was his thinner, hotter version-of-me-with-shorter-hair girlfriend.”

Interpret that!

*I use the term “dated” loosely. He and I never actually went on a bona fide date. But he was the first boy I made out with at college. And over the 3+ years before I dropped out, we had an on-again, off-again “relationship” where we hung out a little and made out a lot. We kept in touch after I moved home and last e-mailed each other as recently as 2004. Wow, that was almost 7 years ago--not recent at all! I think about adding him as a friend on FB, but the insecure 18 year old me gets in the way every time.

**Names have been changed to protect the innocent and not-so-innocent alike.

The 28 Day Challenge: Days 3 & 4

2011-01-06T20:45:00.001-08:00

I made it through another day. Two, actually.

As I thought about what to write on this, another survival day, I realized I've been talking about how I'm doing, but not necessarily how I'm feeling. After all, for me this is all one big exercise in feeling better.

So how am I feeling having eliminated dairy, wheat, gluten, added sugar, eggs, caffeine processed foods, peanut products, fruit juices, soy (including soy sauce), corn, farm-raised fish and shellfish, and fish that are high in mercury?

Well...not as great as I would have hoped, I guess.

I was hoping that my bodily aches & pains would magically disappear because somehow one of foods to avoid was a trigger.

Now, in reality I've never had a sensitivity to any foods. And it would be great if the solution were that easy. But the truth is, there are probably a lot of factors to why my 30-something body feels like it's in its 50s.

I was hoping that by giving up dairy my sinus problems would miraculously be solved.

Unfortunately, I'm still waking up with the same...sinus problems as three days ago.

I was hoping that by eating all the "tree-hugger" health-food store foods I'd have this golden aura, hovering just above the ground and instead of walking, I'd float carelessly through each day.

OK, so maybe that's an exaggeration. But for real--I thought that once I got over the initial couple of days, I'd quickly feel better on the inside and it would, of course, show on the outside.

Now I realize this is only Day Three and "The Glow" doesn't really set in until about Day 12 or so. But so far, I'm just not feeling the benefits.

What I am definitely feeling is irritated. Mostly that I can't have chocolate. I still want chocolate. Pretty bad. Not as bad as Day Two. But still.

And dessert. I'm irritated that I can't have dessert as I'm used to having. Which often includes chocolate (Double Whammy). And that Fella can and does freely have dessert, well, it doesn't help. Nor does it help that he throws it in my face by saying I essentially ritualize dessert.

It's DESSERT! And it's SACRED!!!

In other news, I'm also feeling grateful. Grateful that I've been introduced to some new foods that I probably wouldn't have otherwise tried without this challenge. After all, I love food. Which brings us full circle, I'd say.

So I'll keep plodding along. My next personal challenge: figure out how to make on-plan pancakes this weekend!

The 28-Day Challenge: Day Two

2011-01-04T21:20:00.001-08:00

I’m still not as organized as I would like to be for this thing. But I managed to make my lunch for the week this morning. And I wasn’t even all that late to work this morning. I may look a little haggard, but I’ll blame that on the caffeine-sugar-and-whatever-else DTs.

I’ve been tired and feel almost like I’m on the verge of getting sick.

There have been a few things--habits--that I’ve noticed in these two short days. I pick at food when I shouldn’t. Like when I get 4.0’s breakfast ready in the morning, I totally lick the spoon I use to dish out his yogurt. Or I take my own bite of cottage cheese after dishing his portion out for lunch.

Though this is not a new discovery by any means, but I noticed after lunch I wanted a piece of chocolate. Baaad. I am totally, utterly conditioned to want that at that time. And the urge did not go away. And it got worse as people came throughout the day to raid the candy basket that sits at my co-worker’s desk over the cube from me.

And tart (read: under ripe) mango does not make a suitable substitute.

But somehow I managed to make it through the day without caving to the peppermint bark someone brought in, or to a cup of coffee. (I miss your face, Coffee!)

And I know what I’m making for dinner!

I actually hope we’ll keep up this early-to-bed routine. I need more sleep. For tomorrow is another [Day Three].

The 28-Day Challenge: Day One

2011-01-04T21:17:00.000-08:00

**Edit** Additional info on The Challenge

I started the day hungry. Thinking back, I probably should have had some knock-down, drag-out dessert to close out Sunday night. Instead, we grazed on cookies we had sitting around. Nothing against cookies, but in the grand scheme they would not be the dessert course of my last supper.

It was also very disappointing to not have enough guidance for the plan. I stood in my kitchen without a clue what to have for breakfast. I didn’t have all of the ingredients to make any of the three smoothie recipes that the magazine spotlights for Week One. So I improvised and made a smoothie with only approved foods that I did have on hand.

Then we went to Whole Foods to round out my already at capacity crisper drawers. And as we approached nap time (for 4.0) I still didn’t have everything I was somehow convinced I needed. And despite the fact that I bought rice cakes for the first time since probably high school. (Enough really isn’t enough!)

The entire day I thought about quitting. I looked at my kitchen and felt overwhelmed. It was a disaster. I thought about my meal plan for the week. What meal plan? Also a disaster. I thought about how much money we’re dropping for just one week! DISASTER! (This last point being a driving factor to forge ahead, however). A 3 p.m. caffeine-sugar-and-whatever-else withdrawal headache? Diz.Ass.Tur.

The entire day was pretty much one big improvisation.

At least I knew what I was making for dinner--the recipe of the day that I had managed to track down all of the ingredients for by sundown. And it was good! I mean, really good! No seriously.

But we kept the tele turned off and chatted to the soundtrack of classical radio. (I know--such sophisticates! The only things missing from the picture perfection were a log on the fire and glasses of wine--which of course are strictly prohibited from the challenge at this point).

We talked Challenge. We talked weight loss. We talked motivating factors. Then we talked about taking down the Christmas ornaments (which we proceeded to do).

Then it judgment day was upon me: dessert time.

I pretty much avoided Fella as he ate his ice cream-egg nog milkshake concoction (rather expediently, I must hand to him) and had a cup of tea while I sent an angst-ridden Tweet about it from the bedroom.

Then we went to bed. At 9:30. We usually don’t get around to the sleep thing until closer to 11. Fella couldn’t fall asleep and wanted to talk more. I was exhausted from my disaster-at-all-turns day and my body was aching (quite literally) for sleep.

Oddly enough, we agreed that even though we slept the whole night, neither of us felt particularly rested this morning.

Day Two.

Well, Hello 2011!

2011-01-01T10:58:00.000-08:00

We bid a fond farewell to 2010 last night with a dungeness crab dinner and a bottle of bubbles (that was given to us by our neighbor right after we were married...two years ago). And we toasted the 2011 with a dessert cocktail instead - a nog with a little nip!

Last year, we decided that 2010 was our year to let go. Mostly of BS emotional psycho-babble baggage holding us back. So as we tucked ourselves into bed last night, we agreed that we did alright. Maybe not perfect, but good enough.

While we will continue to let go in 2011, this time of more tangible things (spare tire around my mid-section, I'm talking to you!) this year will be more about doing. Doing things to keep up with 4.0. Doing things that make (and keep) us happy and fulfilled. Doing more with our friends.

So instead of perpetuating the wild goose chase after those things, I'm pledging to let go of our excuses so that in 2011 we Take Action.

WW Wrap-up: Done a Little Differently

2010-05-13T11:59:00.000-07:00

These last two weeks have not afforded me a lot of time to focus on my WW efforts. Naturally, that means that while I’ve perhaps thought about needing to update, I’ve not had the luxury of thinking much about the content of this update. So instead of a blow-by-blow recap approach, here’s what’s been on my mind:

I am in the worst shape of my entire life.

That’s saying a lot. I’ve always been on the athletic side, despite having been overweight for most of my life. And while my fitness level has never been stellar, I’ve been able to fake my way through sports and such.

Until now.

Saturday I took 4.0 with me across the street for a last minute appointment. He had refused to take an afternoon nap, so I thought a walk in the fresh air would be good for the both of us. And I was just going across the street, no big whoop.

Except that I found myself getting winded pushing the stroller up our street. A street that really isn’t up at all. Seriously. To say that it is has an incline is utterly preposterous.

And now I’m at my wit’s end.

So why don't you get off your @$$ and do something?! you might be saying to me through your computer screen.

I can’t hear you. Just sayin'.
[Sticks fingers in ears, scrunches eyes closed and shakes head side-to-side]

I guess my wit’s end may not be synonymous with hitting rock bottom.

Here’s my deal. I have no extra time right now. Seriously. Zip. Zilch. I’m multi-tasked to the hilt, at work and at home. Really. I won’t go into the gory details of my schedule, but take my word for it: I. Have. No. Time.

Sigh.

I’m not sure what this rant was supposed to accomplish exactly. Or what the point of it should be. I suppose it’s simply a therapeutic exercise (there’s that word again!) for me; venting my frustrations.

So I’ll put it to you, dear readers: how do you manage to fit exercise into your hectic life?

Week 7 Stats: +0.6
Total to date: -1.6

Week 8 Stats: -1.2
Total to date: -2.8

Three! Three! Three Updates In One

2010-04-28T09:51:00.000-07:00

WW Weekly Wrap Up #4: ‘Cause I’m Dressed Like A Cat?

In the words of Paula Abdul and M.C. Skat Kat (alright, and Peter Griffin): ”I take two steps forward, I take two steps back.”

Apparently, I had a bad week.

I poured back over my memory of the last week, because I’m not sure what happened or where I went wrong. It wasn’t Easter because [brace yourselves] I didn’t even touch the candy I put in 4.0’s basket. That is, until the weekend.

Wait, what’s that glow emanating from the ether above me? That would be a light bulb.

Last week was precisely why I need to start tracking.

So it was time to finally get my eTools account straightened out and start tracking.

Check and check.

Too bad I forgot add “prepare myself for shell shock” to that list.

Luckily, I have my buddy on the other side of my cubicle! Having my co-worker's support reminded me that when I started this leg of my journey, I told myself that I wasn’t necessarily going to fall in line right away. I have other priorities that could be adversely affected by sudden drastic changes to my diet.

Have you found your buddy?

On a different note, in getting my eTools setup ironed out, I found out that I’ve re-achieved a former 10% milestone from when I started WW during law school. (Yep, that means I weighed even more then than I do today—10% more!) Regardless, it made me feel much better about where I am right now to see where I’ve been not that long ago.

Week 4 Stats: +1.6
Total to date: Big Fat Goose Egg (how many points is that?)

WW Weekly Wrap Up #5: The System Works!

I was never one to have perfect attendance when I was a kid. I liked daytime T.V. too much to not fake sick sometimes. OK, as often as I could get away with it. And my first week of incorporating tracking was really no different.

But this week, I really can’t complain. All I did was track. I cut back here and there, but I was nowhere near staying within my range. But I’ve been eating with pert near wild abandon since my son was born in October. I hit the wall with that approach when I came back to work. So any cutting back, no matter how small, probably made an impact.

I am admittedly still eating well beyond my allotted daily Points value, not to mention my weekly Flex Points allowance. But seeing the horrifying statistics there in print definitely made me think twice about what I put in my mouth. As long as I have the time to actually lay down the tracks and add up the points.

So yeah, the system works. I’m living proof. At least for this week!

Week 5 Stats: -2.6
Total to date: -2.6

WW Weekly Wrap-up #6: [Insert Witty Subtitle Here]

Maybe it’s because I’m behind on posting my updates. Maybe it’s because I’m getting increasingly more busy, day in and day out. Maybe I’m just without a muse this week.

Another thing I was without this week: progress. As I mentioned in our meeting, I fell off the wagon. The Points-tracking wagon, that is. It was just not what I wanted to do when I got home at night or when I had an extra moment to spare during the work day. I did, however, not deviate too much from the same food choices throughout the week. So I roughly knew that I wouldn’t be too terribly far off track.

But it brings me to another point (of contention, of course!) Late last year, WW had this commercial that annoyed the dickens out of me. You know, the one that said “all [WW] takes is [like] 35 minutes a week.” Or some such claim.

I call bullshit. (And I really did. Each and every time that exasperating thing aired!)

If you’ve ever tracked points, you know what I’m saying. Following the plan takes WAY more than just the time it takes to attend a meeting each week. Unfortunately (for this rant) I know the plan works. It’s just sooohohoooo haaaaaard.

Yeah, yeah. Pity party for one.

Anyway, in the interest of time (and to spare you from the boredom likely setting in by now) I’ll leave it there. Here’s hoping for a more relevant (not to mention timely) update from Week 7!

Week 6 Stats: +0.4
Total to date: -2.2

Blog Challenge #12

2010-04-27T14:24:00.000-07:00

This week's prompt: Write a haiku! (or maybe three?)

Sitting at my desk
Watching the rain hit the trees
Drip drip drop drip drop

Too lazy to bake
Chocolate-coconut-graham
3 of 7 Wonder Bar

Afternoon treads on
Outlook reminder pops up
One maid-a-milking

Blog Challenge #11

2010-04-20T19:37:00.001-07:00

What's a skill you don't possess that you wish you did?
This is a tough prompt for me to tackle. My immediate thought is “don’t get me started! Don’t even get me started!” An exercise such as this is like my own personal Pandora’s Box because, simply stated, I am undoubtedly my own harshest critic.

So I’ll go dig deep and use my elementary school report-writing “skills” as a jumping-off point.

Skill: A developed talent or ability. http://dictionary.com, citing American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, 4th ed.

Oy.

Allow me to explain. Looking back on my life thus far, I feel I have lived the quintessential “Jill of all trades, master of none” life. OK, maybe not all trades, but a good many. And I could get by in all of my endeavors, be it athletic, artistic, academic, or social. But I never really had a talent or ability that I excelled at enough to really have it develop into a mastered skill, per se.

I don’t have anything that’s my thing. You know, the type of thing that a person would say: “You should call her. She knows everything there is to know about that.” As Fella would say (about his self), “I don’t have quite that intense of a personality for such things.” Which is, of course, a load (his “things” are: old cars, architecture, history and politics, and geography--or perhaps more accurately cartography). His things he can speak on with authority.

So what is it that I would like to speak with authority on?

The smartass in me answers, “What wouldn’t I?!” Which, really, is just another diversion tactic from answering the question.

So here goes nothing: I’d like to possess mad cake decorating skills.

All that lead-in blather for that?! I know, I was hoping for something loftier myself, but that’s what I came up with.

Is there anything you can do to gain that skill?
There’s plenty I can do. There are Wilton® classes at craft stores. And there’s always the culinary program at DVC. To name a couple.

Why haven't you done it?
Why, time, why else! The constraint of time is the bane of my existence. It was the basis of my conversation with my checker at Trader Joe’s on Sunday, who, after awhile conceded defeat to my schedule, just as I seem to have.

I should make time, I know. And someday I will. Right after I do all the other things that make up this Jill’s life right now.

Oy.

Blog Challenge #10

2010-04-13T08:38:00.000-07:00

This week's prompt: Did You Build Forts as a Child?

I have to admit here, I don’t know as I could take any credit for any fort-building initiatives in my childhood. You see, I had (ok, still have) this older brother. And he had a thing for building things. Lincoln Logs, Leggo’s, popsicle sticks, toothpicks, wood blocks--you name it, my brother built things with it.

Oddly enough, we didn’t have a couch situation that enabled us to build forts with its cushions. Perhaps that was a strategic move on our parents’ part. So what I remember most, is building snow forts for snowball fights in the winter. Brother needed extra man power to pack the snow in good. Being the "yes man" little sister that I was, dug my heels in and went to work until the frostbite nearly set in.

And what thanks did I get in return? A turncoat. That’s right, from workhorse to target, I was powerless against his reign of terror. Well, almost powerless. The perfect pitched screech and crocodile tears always swayed the jury of our parents. He may have been older, but I was pretty shrewd.

But giving credit where it is due, were it not for my brother, I’m not sure that I would have ever thought to build a fort of my own accord. In fact, I’m fairly certain there are a lot of things that I wouldn’t have known, done, or seen were it not for brother paving the way before me.

Thanks brother (if you ever read this).

Food Substitutions

2010-04-09T08:39:00.000-07:00

Here's the article on the food substitutions that I mentioned in the @Work meeting yesterday.

From:

Allergen-Free Ingredient Substitutions
Don't let food allergies discourage you from baking tasty treats. Try these allergen-free ingredient replacements from Cybele Pascal, author of "The Allergen-Free Baker's Handbook."

Ditch the Dairy
In baking, dairy is used to provide moisture but also contributes to flavor and body, and its sugars help with browning. Vegan milks can easily mimic all of these qualities.

Rice Milk
Use rice milk anywhere you might traditionally use cow's milk -- it is easy to find and has a mild flavor. Rice milk is generally made from brown rice. It is thinner than other nondairy milks, but it still provides yummy moistness.

Hemp Milk
Hemp is the most nutritious of vegan milks, and it has a rich, nutty flavor.

Egg-Free Baking
Eggs provide moisture, richness, binding, and leavening. You can use a variety of alternative ingredients in place of eggs.

1/4 cup unsweetened applesauce = 1 egg
Applesauce works as a binding agent and is a great substitute for eggs, oil, or shortening when you want to reduce the fat.

1 teaspoon baking soda + 1 teaspoon cider vinegar = 1 egg
This is an old baking trick from World War II days, when eggs were rationed. It provides leavening in place of eggs. Add the baking soda to the dry ingredients and add the vinegar to the liquid. Wait to combine the dry and liquid ingredients until the very last minute, because the chemical reaction occurs as soon as the baking soda and vinegar meet.

1 tablespoon flaxseed meal + 3 tablespoons warm water = 1 egg
Flaxseed works just like an egg, doing everything but leavening. It's moist, rich, and binding. Flax is often processed in facilities along with tree nuts or other allergens, so be sure to check with the manufacturer before consuming flax if cross-contamination is a concern for you.

Peanut Butter Proxy
SunButter (sunflower seed butter) is a great replacement for peanut butter and other nut butters.

Copyright 2010 Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia, Inc. All rights reserved.

WW Weekly Wrap Up #3: Well That’s Different!

2010-04-07T20:08:00.000-07:00

After week two, my pediatrician recommended that I make a few dietary changes. OK, maybe not my pediatrician, but 4.0’s. I was supposed to add more fruit and dairy, and while you’re at it, vegetables, too.

You know, more of those pesky “filling foods.”

So add I did.

And I was really hoping that by adding a fruit & yogurt smoothie to my early morning, I would be able subtract the number of feedings I require in the late morning. This was not the case.

Unlike most “normal” human eaters, adding what amounts to another meal doesn’t stick with me. No matter what or when I eat in the morning, I’m hungry about every two hours (e.g., 6 a.m. breakfast, begets an 8 a.m. snack, which leads to a 10 a.m. nosh, etc.). So usually I power through on a glass of OJ until I get into the office and have my breakfast at 8am. Why add the extra calories from an extra meal, right?
Imagine my surprise when the scale went down at weigh-in.

So by adding I did subtract? Hmmm.

This is where I have to confess: I really have no idea what I’m eating day in and day out. I’m so not on track with tracking. I haven’t so much as counted a point thus far. I’m far too paranoid to find out what I’m consuming, because I’m far too scared of the reaction I will have to finding out what I’m consuming.

Denial sure ain’t just a river in Egypt!

So perhaps by adding the smoothie to the front of the day, I dropped something I was eating on the flip side. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps!

After all of this, I decided to actually look at program materials on these magical, mystical filling foods: “People tend to eat the same volume of food each day—by filling their stomachs with food, they avoid feelings of hunger. If you eat foods that are high in volume, but low in calories, you’ll feel satisfied even as you do what you need to do to lose weight. […] They’ll fill you up on fewer calories.” Book 1: Food Plan Basics: Start Eating Smarter, page 17. (Emphasis added).

There’s no disputing that filling foods are…er, filling. I mean, it’s right there in the description. And sure they may quell hunger, but do they really satisfy? Maybe that’s the carb- and chocoholic in me talking. But I’m still left wondering, why when I add filling foods am I not fuller?

Maybe it’s just the way my metabolism works. Maybe it’s a mental or emotional thing. Maybe it’s a great mystery that I’ll just never fully understand. But I guess if it means I get to subtract at the scale each week, I’ll keep adding until I’m full.

Week 3 stats: -1.4
Total to date: -1.6

Blog Challenge!

2010-04-06T21:08:00.000-07:00

What's an Easter memory from your childhood? How is/will your child's Easter celebration be different or the same?

As I was preparing for 4.0’s first Easter, I couldn’t help but reflect upon my Ghosts of Easters Past.

Spring break never seemed to coincide with the holiday. My first year in law school, I remember thinking I was going to make myself a nice Easter dinner since I was spending it alone (I splurged on lamb!) Unfortunately, I got a little over zealous with the garlic. To boot, I suddenly came down with the flu and started feeling like death not long after I tried to stomach the over-garlicked spread. It was awful and all I wanted was my mommy to make it all better. So when I hosted a potluck Easter the following year, I made ham.

One year in college, a bunch of my sorority sisters who hadn’t made the treks home to celebrate decided to have a potluck at the house. I think I ended up bring dinner rolls. I don’t remember much more about it than that, except that I was glad to have friends to share the day with.

As I was shopping for the final touches for 4.0’d Easter basket (read: candy for me and Fella) I recalled the goodies my brother and I got from the Easter Bunny each year. There were definitely some constants: these little cartons of chocolate eggs, foil wrapped chocolate bunnies and eggs, jellybeans (Jelly Bird Eggs, actually), and maybe a Regal Chocolate Rabbit. Somehow I remember getting spice drops, too, but I could be confusing that with the candy we were traditionally given on Valentine’s Day.

Regardless, I found myself wishing I could pick up the same candies for my guy (who can’t even eat it this year). Now that I think about it, I’m sure I could order most of the above, but that would take a little foresight on my part (got to work on that). And now that I’ve had time to contemplate, I wonder: do I really want the focus of 4.0’s memories to be on candy like his food-troubled mother?! Things that make you go hmmm.

What I’d really like for 4.0 is to have are memories like the one I have of my Easter in Memphis. We shared the holiday with relatives we didn’t get usually get to share any holidays with, including my second cousin five months my junior. I remember we each got Barbie umbrellas and I was SO in love with mine. I kept treating it like a parasol. I mean, we were in the south after all. Oh how I longed to be a southern belle!

Looking back, what resonates with me most now was how special it was to spend the holiday in a different place with different relatives than we were used to spending the holidays with. I want 4.0 to relish the time he spends with his family, especially since so many of my relatives are far-flung . I certainly want him to have a greater appreciation of his extended family than I did when I was younger. Hopefully he’ll take after his father that way.

It does strike me as odd that being a religious holiday, I don’t have much memory of the church part of Easter. I am sure we attended Easter Mass (or at least ¾ of us did), it just left no impression on me. But can a child really get his head around the religious meaning of Easter anyway? I mean, Christmas is easy—we all have birthdays like the little baby Jesus. Getting that. But death and resurrection? Not exactly hitting close to home.

So how will my child’s Easters Yet to Come differ from mine past? Really, I hope not much at all.

Blogging Challenge #8

2010-03-30T12:39:00.000-07:00

Quite awhile back, I accepted a blog challenge, but leading up to, and in the aftermath of 4.0’s arrival, I missed a whole lot of posts. Then the challenge took a little hiatus, too. But just in time for Easter, it has been resurrected and we’re both back in action! So here’s what we’re tackling this week:

What’s a movie you can’t NOT watch if you come across it on TV?

Fella is a bit of movie buff. A moldy-oldie sort of buff. So we get ~~stuck~~ to watching some pretty interesting Old Hollywood quite often.

The one he ~~tortures me with~~ …~~imposes upon me~~ … has goaded me with lately is Mildred Pierce. All because it came on PBS one Saturday night and I said “I just can’t take watching this one,” explaining that I was too tired to watch such a ~~dull~~ sedate B&W movie (that we’ve seen before) that night. Oh how he thinks he’s a laugh riot with his interpretation of that reaction!

It’s a good movie, but in the right context. Totally has to be the right time and the right place. Same with Now, Voyager. We’ve seen that one a lot, too. And Dark Victory. All movies I don’t necessarily choose to watch on a sleep-deprived Saturday night in the dead of winter.

So what movie do I need to watch on a sleep-deprived Saturday night in the dead of winter, were I to stumble across it on the tele? Why, that's easy! There are two options, one “moldy,” one modern.

North By Northwest. Need I say more? OK, but I’ll keep it short. Classic Hitchcock. Archibald at his finest (and I do mean fiiiiiine). And there’s a hot blonde, to boot. Did I mention we stayed at the Ambassador East Hotel the last time we were in Chicago? That’s how much we like that movie.

Sixteen Candles. We physically cannot resist changing the channel to this if it’s on. It’s like our remote is programmed to seek it out from the bowels of our cable lineup. And we are compelled by some force greater than we to watch it. No matter how far into the movie it is we watch. Although I am always a little sad if it’s already beyond my favorite lines: (1) “Fred, she’s gotten her boobies…oh and they are so perky!” or (2) “Voila! Breakfast is ready!”

Lucky for us, it plays on the Encore channels A LOT.

Oddly enough, both of these movies involve a little bit of my hometown. While NxNW is only in Chicago for a blip, Sixteen Candles is my childhood and would have become my adolesnce, had my family not become California transplants when we did.

It’s filmed in my actual hometown (Evanston). In fact, one of my elementary school classmates was supposed to have the movie filmed in her house. Her parents turned it down due to some issues they had with the script. My guess it’s the same reason my best friend and I were promptly dragged out of the theater when her mom had taken us to see it: the shower scene.

Nostalgia aside, these are two great movies, never (ever!) to be missed in our house.

WW Week Wrap Up

2010-03-20T13:18:00.000-07:00

This post will wrap up the first two week since I'm just getting around to posting. So here goes!

WEEK ONE: Chips Are Not On The Plan
Last week I started to write about all the reasons why I had a "bad" first week back at Weight Watchers. But before I could finish I realized that all the rationalization in the world wasn't get me to the root of the problem. My problem has to do with a chip.

Not a potato chip or chocolate chip, but worse: a little chip residing on my shoulder.

There are some folks in my @Work meeting who have never been on WW before. They’re come to the table each week with ~~naïveté~~ fresh eyes. They sit there holding their pairs of new discoveries and lost pounds. And I think I’ve got them beat with my Full House of cynicism and years of ~~failure~~ experience. But really, it’s me holding the losing hand.

So my personal challenge after the first week (and no loss) is to not just ante up, but to get my chips all in.

Week 1 Stats: +0.2 lb

WEEK TWO: Little. Yellow. Different. Better.

One out of those four statements are true. This week was better.
OK, so maybe two of the statements because I was also different.

After realizing that I was acting as my own personal sabatouer, I was hoping that I would turn a corner in week two. While I didn't quite make it that far, I did manage to peek around to the other side of said corner. That's progress I'll take!

I contributed to the meeting. And constructively, I might add. SWEAR!

It may not have been all-or-nothing, but it was a step in the right direction.

Week 2 Stats: -0.4 lb

Up To My Old Shennanigans

2010-03-11T20:52:00.000-08:00

I'm not just a Weight Watcher, I'm something more. More like a weight stalker, I've been doing the WW program so long.

I'm the girl who, after she found out she was pregnant last year, wouldn't cancel her Mothly Pass for fear that when she had to register again post-bambino, she somehow wouldn't get the same deal. Totally rational.

I'm the girl who should get honorary Lifetime Membership, I've been a member so many times. I think the first time I joined was in 8th grade (although I have documentation of wanting to lose weight going as far back as the 4th grade). And then there was high school...and college...and law school...and well, still today. So I think I'm entitled to something, even just eTools for life.

While I was pregnant, I really thought long and hard about my struggle with my weight and weight loss. And what I came down to was that I didn't want to struggle with it anymore. I don't want to be a mom who struggles to keep up with her kid because she's carrying around extra pounds. And I want to be a good example for my son. But I wasn't sure what that meant and I certainly didn't know what it meant to the status of my WW Monthly Pass.

I guess I figured I would give WW one more chance once I finally decided to get back on the wagon. One last cycle to get my head straight and then plan to branch out on my own. But that wouldn't be for awhile. At least not until I was done breastfeeding 4.0.

When I got back to work, I found out my company was going foster a WW @ Work meeting. This was MUCH sooner than I had ever contemplated drying out again. But this was a no-brainer, right? Stars are aligned, it's there fallen in my lap, I've seen all the signs. WRONG! I wavered right up until the meeting started.

But I pulled the pin. I went to the meeting. I wrote my check. And I stepped up on that scale. Now all I need to do is call to cancel that Monthly Pass that's been collecting dust for 14 months.

And to keep me honest (and I hope you entertained) I'm going to blog about it. The ups, the downs; the triumphs and tribulations. All the gory details.

OK, maybe not ALL of the details. Hell, my husband is lucky (?) that I let him learn how much I weighed during my pregnancy. All you need to know is that my weight is a three digit number. And there's nowhere to go from here but down.

Projections

2010-03-10T20:46:00.000-08:00

I have no illusions about this year being a tough one to get "me things" done. My life is all about my family now. But let's face it, I'm also a member of that family and we all have to think about ourselves sometimes, right? Besides, if I keep finding excuses to put aside the things I want to accomplish for another [week, month, year...] they'll never see the light of day.

So I'm going to give it the old college try. And at least I'll be able to say I made some kind of an attempt. I consider this my list of New Year's Resolutions, albeit better late than never.

Writing
I love this writing thing. And I used to write a lot more. When I had a lot more time to write. And what's more, I used to have a lot more to write about. That's a whole lotta mores. So Project One: find more things to write about. Which leads to...

Project Two: Take Project One and Write 'Em

Get Real
If I'm being real here, I admit there's really only one project with sub-parts. Saying it that way just makes me feel more accomplished.

Project One (and Two) Status
So where do things stand on this/these project(s), you may wonder. If you've read the blog below lately, you ought to know that not much progress has been made this side on the New Year. Hell, this side of 4.0's birth!

But you also might wonder if I've already got any newfangled topics selected for the project. Well, yes. And no. It's, as they say, a work in progress. But that's really the crux of this blog anyway, right?

2010-03-03T19:38:00.000-08:00

I realized the other day that the more I try to do, the less I seem to get done.

So is less more?

I'm in no condition to wax philosophical, so I'll leave it there.

And be off to do something...more. Or less. Or...else. Something else.

A Baby Saga

2009-11-03T12:53:00.001-08:00

Since I don't think anyone has gotten the full story on the events surrounding the birth of JOC:4.0 (aka Jack) here it is for your reading pleasure (to the best of my recollection).

Scheduled for Induction
At my final OB appointment before my official due date, my doc broke the news that things were not progressing. She was reluctant to let me carry on past my due date because he was already a big baby, so she scheduled me to be induced on the evening of October 13th. Some locals may recall that we were having a pretty wicked storm on the 13th, which apparently brought a storm of other babies making their way into the world. Our appointment got bumped.

So we are finally told to report for duty at 07:30 on October 14th.

As it turns out, despite our best efforts (Prego pizza from Skipolini's among others...) our boy was no closer to getting here than a week earlier (two, actually!) and I was still just 50% effaced and 1cm dilated when I showed up at the hospital. So they start me on cyto-something-or-other to get the effacement moving along. In the meantime, they took a quick U/S to make sure our boy was in fact head down (he was).

And four hours later, when there was little progress, they hit me with another dose of cyto-whatever-you-call-it. I had read that sometimes this can trigger contractions to start on their own without pitocin, so I was hoping for the best. But Murphy's Law being as it is, I should have been expecting the outcome.

Bring on the Pitocin
Let the contractions begin. At this point, I was still hoping that I had a high enough pain tolerence to make it through the process naturally. And I was taking the contractions in stride. My doc then broke my water at sometime around 20:00, in further hopes to move the process along. And I'm still taking the contractions like a champ. That is until around 22:00 when I announce: "I think I may need the epidural." Boy was I right.

Then the Morning Comes
We still have no baby. But I have very little to no pain and I am thankful for that. And I am still not progressing as would be expected and we start hearing whispers of C-Section. So they try to position me to target the one side that doesn't seem to be dilating and two hours later, I'm still stalled at about 9cm dilated. So we have the C-Section talk with my doc.

And it came down to this: even if we took the wait-and-see approach, I could still have several hours of pushing ahead of me and I could still end up needing an emergency C-Section. Consider that at that point we had been in the hospital for 26-ish hours. My water had been broken for 14+ hours. Sometime a couple of hours earlier I had spiked a slight fever and was on antibiotics. I was completely wiped out. I didn't think I had several hours of pushing left in me, so I opted for the C-Section then and there.

On the O/R Table
As they were prepping me for surgery, I lay there on the table wavering. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Early on in my pregnancy I had considered a scheduled C-Section, but over time I settled into the idea that I wanted to give the whole au naturale thing a shot. I questioned again whether I had it in me to call it off and keep trying, but something kept telling me to keep mum.

So Fella joins me and I'm feeling marginally better. My doc gets going and see's little Pal, face up with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. Two definite strikes against any kind of smoothe-sailing as far as a vaginal birth is concerned. It's no wonder he wasn't descending into the birth canal enough to help the process along, he was a little tied up!

But at 12:35 on October 15, 2009, my 19-inch long, 8lb 10oz wonderboy was brought into this world.

Hindsight being 20/20, the C-Section was obviously the best way to go. Thank goodness I didn't delay the inevitable!

Swooped Off
Because I spiked that fever, they were concerned about the baby's health, so he was taken off for testing pretty quickly after they got him out. Fella went with him as they drew blood and got all of his stats taken care of.

That is Except For...
Those pesky blood tests. They came back irregular, so a day later they took him away again for more tests and to start him on antibiotics, to be safe. But this time he would be quarantined to the Intensive Care Nursery (ICN, aka NICU in other hospitals).

That afternoon I was outfitted with a breast pump and equipment. And two days later we find out that my boy's blood was tainted with two bacteria, one I can't recall, but the other I'll never forget: E. coli!!! These required a 14-day course of antibiotics, so he was stuck in the ICN for awhile, yet another unexpected turn of events.

But Wait, There's More!
Just as I am getting ready to be released from the hospital, one of my nurses notices some possible signs of infection to my surgical wound. So my doc keeps me another day. Fine, considering that it would keep me closer to the babe for another night. And the next day, she changes my antibiotic, which has a 20% chance of reaction in people allergic to penecillin (of which I am one). So she holds me over yet another night for observation.

And the Hits Just Keep on Coming
They had to open up my wound for treatment because of the complication (which I was preliminarily told was likely caused by staph bacteria that is naturally occurring on the skin). And on my last day, I was assessed by the hospital's Skin and Wound Assessment Team (SWAT).

My doctor happened to show up precisely when I was being assessed and they determined the best course of treatment. Treatment that includes nursing care visits at home every other day and visits to the John Muir Wound Care Center (WCC) once a week.

At my first visit to the WCC, the surgeon assigned to my case decides that the fastest course of treatment would be to use what's called V.A.C. Therapy. Basically I have to tote around a little machine that's connected to a very long tube, that's connected to foam, that's packed into the wound and all covered by this film that creates an air-tight seal and does exactly what you'd expect a vaccuum to do. TMI? My apologies.

Oh--and as it turns out, the second culture that the WCC surgeon took on my wound came back as (drumroll please...) E. coli bacteria. (On a side note, after a little research we have come to find that E. coli is not an uncommon bacteria to be found when such a complication occurs from childbirth).

So in addition to a now 9lb 13oz baby, I've got this accessory to tote around constantly that's close to 5lbs. And after just two days with both, my back is killin' me. Thankfully the doctor said I should probably only need this contraption for 2-3 weeks to get the underlying tissue all good and healed.

There's No Place Like Home
So we're all home and JOC:4.0 seems to be adjusting well (although we are having some latching issues, I think due to his getting bottles in the ICN half the time). So we're troubleshooting those. I've finally got my ankles back (they got HUGE after the birth) and I'm driving again.

And Fella and I are just plain old trying to figure out this parenting thing and hoping we're not already somehow scarring our kid for life. You know, the usual.

I've Been Challenged!

2009-10-03T08:13:00.000-07:00

Blog Writing Challenge:
Why do you blog? What do you hope to get out of this challenge?

A high school friend of mine, who I’ve reconnected with through various social networking platforms, including a mom’s group message board, has issued a blog challenge. This challenge is rather timely, as my blog seems to have hit a bit of a dry spell. So, challenge duly accepted!

Why do you blog?
I started blogging during my last year of law school. I jumped on the bandwagon as a way to stay in touch with friends, as an attempt to entertain myself and others, bitch about life, and just plain old pass the time. And I would be remiss if I failed to mention that I like words--reading them, writing them, and crafting them into thoughtful…, well, thoughts.

For a time, I even aspired to be a writer. But I hated journalism in school and frankly, I don’t think I have the chops to be some great novelist or essayist. And in my estimation, if I can’t be great at it, I don’t want to have any part of it. I’m a little faint-of-heart whereas the idea of harsh criticism is more than I can bear and there’s only so much delusion that my ego and I can feign.

I digress.

I’m currently reading Julie and Julia (no, I have not yet seen the movie). I’ve just read Julie’s discussion on the reasons people blog from a 2002 perspective, when blogging was less of a thing. She compares it to the reasons 17th century diarist Samuel Pepys may have kept his 9-year diary. And that Pepys, in stark contrast to bloggers, did not share his diary with the public, that is, until it was published in 1825. Whereas modern day diaries, blogs, are out there for anyone who is so inclined in our voyeuristic universe to peruse.

Brass tacks: I blog for me. It makes me happy to craft words together. But if I just like to write solely for my own pleasure alone, I would keep a private diary, not a blog. So why do I put it out there for anyone to see? Not because I necessarily think I have anything particularly interesting to share with the world, but because I still like to entertain (I also wanted to be a performer when I was a kid, one of those triple threats—actor/dancer/singer). And admittedly, I still harbor teensy, tiny aspirations that my writing turn into more than just a hobby.

What do you hope to get out of this challenge?
Since graduating from law school, life has had this way of interfering with my writing/blogging. And more often than not, I find myself at a loss for entertaining or interesting topics to write about. Because, let’s face it, my life ain’t all that interesting.

So if nothing else, I hope it takes away any excuse I may have NOT to sit down and write at least once a week. I also hope it will bring me closer to the community of women and mothers engaging in the challenge, most of whom I haven’t had the chance to get to know just yet.

Projects, projects everywhere!!!

2009-08-29T06:43:00.000-07:00

Hey kids, remember this?! Well I finally have an update of substance on said bathroom project!

[Insert wild cheering here]

The cabinet doors and drawers were finished sometime late April/early May. Fella installed new hardware to hang the doors and here's what we got:

And:

Whoops!

So after a little handymanning, he repositioned the hinges and the doors fit together just right.
And after short (I use the term loosely) hiatus, the stagnant project was resurrected this week. And we are definitely on the home stretch with this one. Yesterday, we had the new counter top & sink installed.

Here's how that looks:

Now all that's left is for Fella to don his plumber hat and hook up the new sink and VOILA! Bathroom is ready!

It will be so nice to get to the end of this project. Well, the end of any project, for that matter. It feels like we're juggling so many right now...probably because we are!

Next on the To Finish List: the Offery. Or Nurserice, if you'd rather.

2009-08-19T08:57:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking of moving my blog here permanently, but I'm still trying to figure out how to import the archives from my Xanga site (if I even can). I'll work something out...eventually.

Off the Wagon

2009-01-02T19:30:00.000-08:00

Yes, I fell off the wagon as soon as I tried getting back on it. But I know that exercise is a major missing link for me. My rate of attrition has taught me I should start moderately. And while I still want to train for a 5K, I think I need to trim down some first, for the benefit of my joints.

The last piece of the puzzle is to try to figure out where it best fits it into my schedule!

C25K: Day One

2008-12-18T08:20:00.000-08:00

I got myself to the gym this morning, although as I suspected it was a little bit of a pain. Literally and figuratively.

The closest gym is about 10 minutes from home. So it poses a logistical problem with getting up at 5:00 a.m., getting there, getting home, readying for work, and out the door before 7:00 a.m. It's a lot to try to do in 2 hours! Of course I have considered doing the readying business AT the gym, but that takes a lot of planning and organization, both of which were especially lacking for this morning's foray. But I got there and made it to work reasonably close to my usual start time.

As for the actual training, it went half well.

At about the 10-minute-mark, body parts started to revolt. It was mostly a hip that was none too pleased with me. So I jogged one more interval to make it up to 0:11:30 of the actual C25K schedule and walked the remaining 0:8:30.

I'm satisfied with my (half) Day One.

And I experimented with the Speed Interval setting on the treadmill. Pretty convenient for my C25K purposes. I toggled between my "jogging" (walking) speed at 3.4 and "running" (jogging) speed at 4.0. Slow down or speed up at the touch of a button. Marvelous!

Here I Go Again

2008-12-17T20:28:00.000-08:00

I was looking in the mirror this morning, as I made my 5th costume change before leaving for work, and realized that something has got to give. And that something is definitely me. So I will.

Tomorrow I start training again--Couch to 5K. A few months ago I was following this but forced to stop due to an injury. This time I hope the same doesn't happen again (and will take proper steps to avoid the same problem). And I'll track my progress here, hopefully to motivate me further.

Now I head to bed so I can make my fresh start bright and early. Well, at least early!