Frustrated, yet joyful. It's a good place to be...

I'm starting my "normal" shift tomorrow after church. I've been anticipating it, yet I also feel strange about it. Strange in that I will be working the busiest hours of my family's day.... Though the saving grace is that school ends Wednesday, so this time on the second shift will be a good time to try this out. The other strange thing will be working the entire weekend. I am not upset about these things, I just feel strange about them. It's weird. I am also still pinching myself over the fact that I am working from home. Working from home, legitimately! Weird.

I realize I am concerned because my husband is exceptionally lazy during the weekends. He likes to sleep. A lot. Usually the entire weekend is spent sleeping for him. I know this about him, and accept it, but I have to say it hurts. A lot. I took care of my normal day to day chores today, and completed our shopping with our eldest son, along with fixing my headlight to which my husband promised me he would take care of, he's promised since the weekend of April 4th, getting my car washed and vacuumed out, cleaning the fridge and sink, and more laundry. I was able, because of my job, to purchase clothing and sandals today for the kids and Mike. I was so very please. So very pleased. And, my husband slept. I wish he liked to spend time with me. I try not to take it personally. Sometimes it's difficult not to. To anyone who has a husband, or wife for that matter, that is involved with your children in sports, plays with them, truly enjoys being a dad, relish that. Relish it. Some of us will never know that. I am blessed that I have two beautiful boys, I am blessed that I have many good friends, and I am grateful that God made me incredibly independent. But it is lonely. I won't lie to you about that. I am lonely.

I realize my fear is that my boys will not be properly taken care of while I am working. That was the main caveat to finding a job all of these years, because my children needed me since my husband seems so disconnected, distant, unattainable. And I'm really worried that they'll learn to be a father from their own father. I love that other dads step up and help them learn. That's very precious to me. It's sad to feel as if I'm a single parent in a two parent home where one of the parents is such a nice person, but they're the sweet, kind, generous person you could meet anywhere, but never really get to know. I keep praying for direction, for solace, for continued joy. I keep praying. Maybe someday this will change. I keep praying.

Popsicles and crystal light await. Enjoy your evening, weekend, the week ahead. Time flies when you're having fun.

Mother's Day... Happy Mother's Day

I didn't realize that I was sad until I spoke in my small group in celebrate recovery yesterday. And the funny thing is, I'm not really "sad," I'm actually the happiest I have been in years. But that word, Mother, holds so much meaning. For so many of us. 

Yes, it will be a wonderful Mother's Day. Yet for so many it will not be a wonderful Mother's Day for many reasons. Foremost is the memories. The loss of laughter. The loss of strength. The loss of having someone on this tumultuous planet that got me. That got me on a level that no one else, even my husband who I consider to be my best friend, will ever get me. There's a soul lost feeling that is utterly and wholly empty. A throbbing, unsettling empty. An all encompassing empty that is so filling it pushes all else out.

I am hanging onto Jesus' promise. As I do every day. Yet, there are days, like this Sunday, that I hold on a little tighter. No one will see my real pain because I am great at hiding it, I've been an awesome actress over the years. Except, blessedly, with those in celebrate recovery. I love you ladies, you have been my lifeline to living my life once more. You're all in the same boat as I am... and yes, at times it has been a napping boat (inside joke :)) 

I have hung on with both hands, white knuckling it through for so long, I didn't realize I wasn't really living - not really - I was surviving.

Happy Mother's Day. 

107 Pounds Down. A Shared CR Inventory. Working The Steps. Teaching My Son To Respect Himself.

I haven't posted in quite some time. I've been working very hard on my celebrate recovery steps, my inventory, my weight loss, my exercise routine, and taking good care of my family ;) For a time there I also left the YMCA to help our eldest with his wrestling schedule, but have, of this last week, been hired back, to which I am very excited.

First, I've hit a wonderful stride in my exercise, and have come to understand I must stick with it. Not to allow more than three days to go by without exercising. My body remembers, and because I'm being gentle with myself not only physically, but psychologically, I'm seeing great change. 100+ pounds in 6 months is no small feat, and my mind must catch up - to which I have done intense work in that area of my life.

Any habit, hang up, or hurt has a long history. The history that we believe is at the core may different than the actual history that exists. As a for instance, I assumed (wrongly) that my weight problem was as simple as me being unable to lose weight due to lack of will. My will is iron. I've learned that. The basis of my eating was the love I received on a plate from my mother. Food was love. Food was joy, Food was celebration. Food was sadness. Food was life itself. It was everything. Because the only time there was love, there was food. Understanding that will help me in my journey, I will never have to lose 100 pounds again, if I remember the steps I took to get here - to say goodbye to the little girl that so wanted approval, who wanted to be accepted, who wanted unconditional love from her parents.

My parents did the best they knew how to do with what they were taught, and with what they had at their disposal. They were very broken people, and during the 50s, 60s, 70s asking for help was unheard of. They did alright considering what they had dealt with. Giving them grace is my gift to myself, because inevitably my children will have difficulties, and I'm sure that I'll be at the root of those hurts, habits, and hang ups. It's cyclical - as much as things change they stay the same. Hence the longevity of Celebrate Recovery. We take our children with us for two main reasons, the number one is pretty obvious, we don't want to leave them home alone. The second reason is we want them to know there is a place to go when they have found themselves hurt, with a habit, or have developed a hang up. The people that take them for the evening give a teaching on the lesson we, the adults, are learning. It's very valuable at such a young age. Life is difficult enough to not have a place to go that is safe, and where you learn you are not alone.

One thing I would like to address, concerning a safe place to go, is this: One cannot attend Celebrate Recovery (CR) believing it is the end all to your problems. There are hurt, sick, redeeming seeking people there, as there is in every single church you will attend. Look at it as a spiritual hospital. You wouldn't walk into a Doctor's waiting room hoping to find a healthy person to kiss. You cannot go into a church believing you'll find the saved - they are not there. Do not look to a person to fill that gap in your soul, in your heart, or to show you the way - only Christ Jesus can do that for you. CR is a wonderful place to go to learn the steps, to learn how to speak to Christ, to find accountability partners, to find a sponsor, to find people who are further down the healing path than you are. But, please understand - hurt people hurt people, as blaze blah as that may sound, it is so very true. Do not come to Celebrate Recovery looking for recovery within another human being - YOU WILL NOT FIND IT THERE. You will only find it within your and my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Being the "funny girl" was not who I wanted to be, it was what I thought would save me from being the butt of many jokes. If I poked fun at myself, or came into a room as the silly clown, no one could hurt or make fun of me, because I beat them to the punch. It's not a healthy way to live. I am learning how to not smile when I cry - because I can be sad. It just doesn't last long. The smile was my way of telling everyone, "don't you worry about me! I won't be a problem for you. I promise, this is a passing allergic reaction - it's not tears! I'm just stuffy!" No. That's not healthy at all.

Now, as a grown woman that has learned her worth, it's not very welcome in my family for me to ask not to be made the butt of jokes. I understand it is their way of showing love. But, it hurts. And it embarrasses me. I should not feel badly for asking to be shown respect, and love in a way that is clear that it is love - not love with a slap in the face. But love. Joy. Peace. Letting my guard down, knowing my heart won't break after a visit.

I have hope, and faith, that this will not be the norm in the years to come. It takes time to change. I understand that, because it took time for me to change towards myself. It takes time to change a behavior one has exhibited for years, and years, and years. And to which one believed showed love, only to find out it did not, it hurt. I know this is difficult. I am in such a good place, that I know it will change. Whether by presentation, or an understanding that it will not be revisited.

With that being said. I had a wonderful Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's! It is the first holiday season I have enjoyed in over 13 years! I had a friend a few door's down that facilitated a shift in my mind. She and I no longer speak because, ironically enough, her eldest, who is in 4th grade, a year older than Robert, was calling Robert fat, chubby, and saying things to Robert, such as 'you should walk more because you're so chubby.' The last straw was a wonderful Friday two weeks prior to Christmas. We had played tag after school. And we'd played tag with our dog Molly, it was one of the best afternoons we'd ever had. At the end of it, I wanted some time to myself to listen to music and to walk home. I'd asked this gal if she wouldn't mind driving Robert home. To which her son said, 'Robert, I think you should walk because you're so chubby.' That was the last straw. I wanted to walk alone, Robert didn't ask for a ride, I'd asked for the ride. And because she never corrected him, enough was enough. In trying to "fix" it, the relationship became irrepairable. That made me immensely sad. But I wasn't willing to allow Robert to continue to force himself to spend time with someone that wouldn't leave him alone concerning something that Robert was working very hard on. Robert is 9 years old. He is 5'4" 149 pounds. He has lost over 40 pounds. He is doing very, very well. I want him to remember he is worth it - lowering oneself to another's standards because they have a problem is not living - it is putting oneself into the Lion's Den time and time again. It is very unhealthy. I surely hope he remembers it that way. I hope he knows what a good boy he is.

In this I held strong to the poem a reason, a season, a lifetime. God brought her into my life for a reason. And that was to enjoy the holidays that held a pall due to my mother's passing. But, my goodness, my mother passed away 13 years ago! I wanted to feel joy, I wanted to show happiness to my children, but I didn't know where to begin - how to let go and let God. This gal helped in ways that only a God hug can. And for that, I will never harbor ill will towards the situation. It is what it is. I am stronger for it. Robert knows mama will back him up, and even walk away from a friend to protect him. That's an important lesson for a child to witness.

We as human beings can be funky creatures, in that we want the pat on the back from someone insignificant in our lives. While those that are there every step of the way can sometimes be over looked. It's understanding that we must place God first, above family, above love, above husband, above wife, above ourselves - if we place Jesus Christ first, He will lead the way. It's the remembering to let go, let God that can be difficult, because we know best, right? No. Not at all. That is an illusion.

Food for thought! Have a blessed day, all. Below are some pictures of myself, my latest "skinny" picture, my grandmothers and great aunt, my uncle Jimmy. Love well. You won't regret it.

The face is, "Take the picture!" LOL :D

A picture my father posted. The top left is my Aunt Thelma, Lord I loved her. She was the kindest, sweetest, softest spoken person I ever knew. Robert looks quite a bit like her, and has her demeanor. Grandma is on the right, I didn't know her well. Great Grandma is on the bottom, she died 6 weeks before I was born. The saddest thing concerning the not knowing was I grew up 8 miles away from my grandmother. In the same vein, when you don't know you're missing something it is not missed. I don't know what I missed in not having a relationship with her, except for the stories I hear from others concerning their relationships with their grandparents. If you've a relationship with a grandparent, be glad. Some of us do not know that kind of joy. An attitude of gratitude will get you through some of the darkest moments in your life.

My Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Jan. My brother, Sean, is on the left, I am in the front. I am approximately 5 years old here. I loved Uncle Jimmy, he was gregarious, funny, a strong family man. Aunt Jan, whom I love, sent this photo along with others to me over the holidays. My mom was adopted, very little is known of her side of the family. What is ironic is I knew very little of my father's side of the family, though the history is long and rich. We in America need to do better than this, due to our "go get it" ideology our families are fractured. I hope we rectify that.

 

Yes, an attitude of gratitude!

 

 

 

I am BRAVE

BEAUTIFUL
REDEEMED
ANNOINTED
VICTORIOUS
EQUIPT

This week's progress.... Pictures at the bottom.

I want to preface this blog entry with this: I am merely writing what has transpired. The beauty of asking for help is this, life does not magically become easier, it becomes manageable. I was always so hard on myself because I thought asking for help was a weakness. Mike, my husband, and I only knew hard work in our marriage (my father would stop by with chicken and other food stuffs because we were always so poor). We’ve been blessed with such good, Godly people, placed in our path at just the right times in our lives together.

We attend Celebrate Recovery at Peoples Church, and we are also attending the step study, which is going through step by step all twelve steps with other men and women who are as lost and stuck as we have been. However, because we are taking it seriously, and because we are working the steps, we are holding ourselves accountable, and we have awesome accountability teams and sponsors, I am seeing the effects of this. As is my husband. And, it’s helping me with my go to crutch: Food. What I so dearly want people to understand is that food is a bandaid. Anyone with a weight issue, most especially a very visible one such as myself, the food is where one is finding the love they yearn for. Morbidly Obese people do not like to over eat. Morbidly Obese people are the most visible forgotten ones in our society. It will remain chronic because there is very little compassion or empathy for such a problem.

Here’s the ironic thing, and it really does make sense when you take a step back from it: over eating wasn’t because I liked food, or that I was hungry. My heart has been broken for so long that I didn’t face that pain. For a long time my go to was many different foods. My go to was being the wounded party because I felt I was not being validated. But here’s the neat thing: I am validated because Jesus died for me – and He died for you too. Take that in. Imagine it. Close your eyes and really see this: The most important person in your life, child, husband, friend, sister, mother, father – pick whomever makes you get up in the morning. The one you lean on, the one you love. They are carrying a cross for the rest of the world so that they may know true freedom. See it. The price He paid, He paid willingly! He did it so that we may know just how much God adores us. Our earthly love cannot compare.

To those who have paid that horrible price already, the loss of the one that you got up in the morning for: imagine it being solely that person’s choice, and you've known the price from the moment they were born. You were given the knowledge at conception what this person's path would be. Not by accident. Not by illness. But that they chose to die for all of us. God sent Jesus to die for all of us to show us that first and foremost He adores us. Secondly it was because He needed to know how it was to be man, to feel what we feel. He came to us as a child to be crucified as a man to show us He knows our struggles. And once Christ rose on the third day and sat at the right hand of the Father, The Holy Spirit was left within each and every one of us - we are never alone. You are never alone. God Almighty is within you at this very moment! And since Christ paid the price, He acts as a filter between us and God - God can only see His beloved Son Jesus Christ, thereby the price for your sin has been paid in full! I do not mean to be preachy - I mean for you to feel that fire in your gut - GOD IS WITHIN YOU AT ALL TIMES!

As I’ve been hearing lately, that was my bunny trail….

This last week was difficult. It was a week of rollercoaster ups and downs. I’d, initially thought it was a beautiful week. I had spent time with someone that I had earned to get to know. But later found out that they sat my husband down and said some not so nice things in my home at my kitchen table while I was at work. Now, when I was younger I never understood it when my parents would get upset when they’d yell, “In my home!?!” I completely get it now – it is such a disrespectful thing to do. My husband asked me to say nothing, do nothing, and I promised I wouldn’t. I wanted to respect my husband and not confront, as I usually do. A friend of mine laughs that she and I like to be hammers, and seeing a nail, we MUST hammer it! I became a feather for my husband on Saturday evening. And though I still have questions of “why?” I know it wouldn’t matter. The answers are just not there.

I then met with my sponsor and had a tough, and blessed step one read through. I’ve realized that as I grow it’s as if I’m allergic to anything fake. Anything less than genuine seems like such a waste of time.

The following day I was asked if I’d like to get together with a few gals, two of which were not as genuine as I'd hoped they would be, being around them felt forced. And, I didn’t want to fake it till I made it anymore. I confronted, and as I had suspected feelings were still running deep, being one to move on – be done with the situation, or be done with the person – I was drawn to let go and bless the situation. I am most certainly hurt by it, but I am also free from it. I wish these women only the best, and will keep them in prayer. I really do not know what to pray, but I will ask God for guidance. Sometimes when we're hurt all we can mutter is, "please God..."

The most beautiful side effect is I was not hungry – I didn’t eat! However, I do want some kind of outlet, and would love to learn how to crochet. I have also put in my resignation at my job because my family needs me more at this time. The schedule was butting up against the boys schedules. And we’re all working out at 5 AM, which makes for a very long day if I work until 8 PM. And, to be honest, I absolutely love being a homemaker. There is nothing wrong with that, as I had felt there was, and my dear friend looked at me and said, “Well, yeah! You’ve always loved that!” So – homemaker I am. I am blessed, and I am finding my joy even in very painful moments. Pain doesn’t go away, but I can manage it better. One. Day. At. A. Time. One. Moment. At. A. Time. As. A. Pathway. To. Peace.

Here are some pictures of my weight loss thus far. I have lost 72 pounds as of today!

 

Last evening :-)

Leipers Fork, TN - silly boys :D

Selfie ;)

Mike, my husband, and I :) Tummy's almost gone.

 

 

 Where I began... with my cousins, Christina, and Mary.

Nearly 60 Pounds Down...

I'm so sorry for my lack of follow up. This homeschooling venture is.... deep breath... wonderfully hair pulling! I am so enjoying my children, and have found this to be a wondrous time for all of us, but... they miss school with a passion. We've been chatting, no plans set in stone, as families often do, of returning to school next year. Dennis, our eldest, said that his problem was he never asked questions. He said, "mom, I know what the problem is," to which I await his excuses (we're all good for excuses, but 13 year-olds can come up with doozies), "I never asked my teacher questions. I promise I will ask questions from now on." I was impressed, and immensely pleased! Now - the follow through - we'll see.

I also attended a retreat with Franklin Christian Church, which I've done the last three years. I had a great time! Men would never understand the need for tears, laughter, more tears, confessions, laughter, snorting laughter, followed by balling - but let me tell you - if you have this then you've had a good time. IF you're a woman! No Midol needed, thank you very much!

Life's been quiet, hence the lack of reporting. I am, along with my husband, Mike, going to be attending Celebrate Recovery step study at Peoples Church Sunday evenings. What this is is a twelve step program, the principals of Christ's teachings, in a safe place. You deal with, and say goodbye to, any hurt, habit, hang up, or addiction you're facing. This doesn't mean you're "cured," it means that you can allow Jesus' grace to touch those parts of your heart that you thought were long dead - leaving you feeling less than... in everything. We're also working on our marriage, because let's face it, you do not stay together for fifteen years and have nothing happen that hurts, and hangs on, leaving you bruised, and sometimes, ready to run for the nearest exit. I need prayers concerning this, so if you think of me, please pray for my heart to heal. And pray that we give all we've got to this step study so as to have a life filled with joy and a hope.

A lot of the last paragraph is due to my surgery. And this is why: I ALWAYS turned to food. Always. Any sadness, there was a nibble I could force down so as not to cry. There was always a salty treat to eat to not yell, or face the pain. There was always a sweet something to overdo it on so as not to remember the heartbreak. Now, I cannot eat more than a half a cup of food at a sitting. It doesn't mean I cannot overeat. It means that I MUST chose better. I MUST chose healthy. I cannot have had this surgery, this painful incisions be for nothing. unbeknownst to me, I opened a huge can of worms when I started this stage of my life, if I'd known would I have done it anyway? Yes. Because, physically, I feel wonderful.

I have lost 59 pounds, and some 25 inches overall. The last three weeks I've averaged 2 pounds a week. I am still getting approximately 800 calories a day, over 60 grams of protein, and  lots of liquids, and I work out everyday. I decided I was not going to let this bother me. It's slow going, BUT I am headed in the right direction. That's what's important. The latest picture is from retreat.

I am immensely proud of myself. Both in my weight loss, and in the way I have grown. So many of us at retreat have lost our mothers, some lost so much more. I met a girl who has lost her brother, mother, and father. She is one of the sweetest, kindest people you will ever meet. Such a grace she bestowed on all of us. In sharing our grief, and I don't know if everyone does this, but I do: I think as I speak. Now, I won't kid you, sometimes I do not just shove my foot down my throat, I shove my whole leg down my throat - so be careful not to do this! I said, when my mother died, my eldest was three months old. It was not expected, and it literally broke my heart. I had to grow up that day, I no longer had a mother to ask questions of, I no longer had a best friend to share my joys with. God bless Mike, he tried to fill her shoes, but they were much too large to fill. She was my all and everything, and I became a woman that day. This is not a boo-who moment, ladies and gentlemen, this is me raising my hand with my shakra like Xena and screaming at the top of my lungs. Because, if this hadn't had happened I might not have realized my true self, my strength, my wherewithal. Life happens. It's how we end up after the dust has settled that speaks volumes. The dust is still a bit stirred, but that's OK, I got this!



Dealing with old demons....

Today there’s not much to write. Now that I’ve written that, I’ll probably write a novel!

We’ve made it through nearly two weeks of homeschooling, and everyone is still sane! It is one of the toughest things I’ve ever done, though it does seem to be paying off, even being in the honeymoon period. The kids are calmer. Robert’s not coming home beaten up. Dennis isn’t coming home with four hours of homework. A “normal” day has been in the ballpark of nine hours. I’m sure we’ll get to a point where it is closer to six hours per day.

As to weight loss, my personal check-in is tomorrow. Last Thursday I had weighed in at Vanderbilt and lost forty pounds and ten inches. Very exciting! I’ll post additional pictures soon. I’m waiting for one from my cousin that shows my beginning highest weight. Hopefully I’ll have that to share soon.

The most important issue I faced, and have faced for over two years in CR, was my experience with child molestation. At the age of seven, on November 13^th of 1976, I was hurt by a friend of my parents, a neighbor that lived behind us. I will not go into detail here because that’s not the point. The point is I was able to tell my father from point A to Z what happened. Everything. At that point in time, when I was seven years old, I did not have the words to explain. And honestly, he was so upset, I don’t think I would have been able to. What happened in my young girl’s mind is this: My father, after learning of what happened, rushed home from work. He was, understandably, upset. He grabbed a gun and was going to shoot the man that hurt me. Our neighbor came over and stood in front of my dad, eventually stopping him.

My dad then took me into my parent’s bedroom, at this point in time being a parent myself, I understand my father’s anger. At this point in time, at the age of seven, I did not understand. He held the gun in front of me asking what I had done. In my mind I was screaming I didn’t do anything, daddy. But the words wouldn’t come. I could only shake my head and try to make myself as small as humanly possible. He then asked what the man had done to me. Again, the words wouldn’t come. I just did not have the vocabulary to explain what had happened. I only knew it was wrong.

I was able to speak of this to my father for the first time last week. It is healing to get the bad stuff out. It is healing to cry. So many times, I’m sure you can relate, I’ve been in survival mode. Get to moment one, get to moment two, get through day one, get to day two. One step in front of the other. Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.

For many years I was heavy because I felt safer. Who would find me attractive? It was my safety blanket of sorts. Then I had an aha moment with my husband. We have been members of Peoples Church and Peoples Church CR for a little over two years. I have been MIA for approximately three months because of work, surgery, and now I don’t want to lose this momentum I’ve started in the exercising quadrant of my life. I’ll go back, I’ve no doubt. CR helped me deal with the loss of my mother. You see, when I was molested I was paralyzed. I literally could not move. My beautiful, strong, pain-in-the-ass mother who could push my buttons like no other felt something was wrong and she came looking for me. I heard her voice and I started to cry. And then I started to run. She was only 4’11”, but don’t you know it, she knocked that damn door down! My mom, in more ways than I could ever describe, was my hero. All the way around she was my hero. When I lost her, I lost my very best friend, my savior of sorts, my hero, my mommy. To this day, I cannot think too long on her for fear of being useless the rest of the day. I digress. My aha moment was when I said I was heavy to protect myself – it didn’t’ make sense. I had been heavy from the age of four. I was seven. Oh my goodness! I realized it wasn’t because of what had happened to me. It was because of my lifestyle. Because of my mom’s lifestyle. As wonderfully, beautifully, strong she was, she had an easily broken heart. And it was broken numerous times. Her cure was to eat. And my being a little girl without a vote, I was her food companion.

So here we are today. And what I have done with all of this overlap is this: My mom had her life. Yes, there was immense heartbreak, and there were broken dreams. But, really, that’s life. We all have heartbreak and broken dreams. This is my life. I must live it to the best of my ability. For myself, for my husband, for my children to witness. I must live with my head held high in honor of my mom, and in honor of some of the things I’ve had to survive. We all have our own story, we all have our own darkness to bring to light and call it what it really is – that man was coward and child molester. It wasn’t my fault. It never was. The best end to this story is my living a fulfilling life, thereby cancelling out any damage he tried to do.

I love you, mommy. Thank you for saving me that day, and so many others, some I do not have any knowledge of. I will miss you until we meet again.

God’s Blessings on your day, y’all! Thank you for popping by.

Today is Thursday, August 1, 2013, three weeks to the day after my surgery. Today is the first day I am feeling pretty good! Words cannot fully express how happy I am – but I will try! :)

This weight loss surgery runs the gamut for time in recovery. I thought for sure that I’d be back on my feet, one of the success stories, pictures in Life magazine in three years of me waving from the top of Mount Kilimanjaro! Ha! J No – not really. But I expected to bounce back pretty quickly. I am no stranger to surgeries, having had two C-sections, three ventral hernia operations, and a rib removal when I was twenty five (that one knocked me flat for a week, they deflated my lung, and went through my arm pit to remove the rib that had lodged itself into my throat.) This one hurt. It hurt pretty bad. I was disappointed, frustrated with myself, and wondering had I made a mistake choosing this surgery….? Thank you God for my husband, he kept my spirits up when I was down. He has known me fifteen years now, and knew my struggle up close and personal. When I would falter he would say, “Babe, you didn’t make a mistake. This saved your life. Give it time. Give it time.” Yes, thank you God for my husband.

Here’s a photo of my first week post op, and today, three weeks post op. I have lost 32 pounds, and several inches.

 

 

 

Here is the size food you eat immediately following surgery. And then how much you can eat as you get closer to your thirty days out. The smaller one is about two and half ounces, while the larger is about five ounces.

 

 

What I have learned, and yes, to those of you that feel surgery is the “easy” way out (it’s not, believe me), it can be done without surgery, no doubt. The thing is I couldn’t. I could not lose weight. I probably did too much damage to my body as a young woman, yoyo dieting, going from 300 to 200 pounds in a matter of a couple of months. Several times. I always wanted to be accepted, and unfortunately I’m a bit of a silly goose - I absolutely adore laughing, and once you’re my friend you’re my friend for life - I never leave anyone out, I always include everyone because I know how much it hurts to be the one left behind. My life’s been a bit lonely. I attend things, but in times past it could be painfully obvious I was in the wrong the room, or group. Now – what’s helped with the above statements is CR, Celebrate Recovery (http://www.celebraterecovery.com/), it is a twelve step program that is offered at many venues, mainly churches, all over the country. It is Christ centered, as I cannot overcome what I’ve just expressed to you via this blog without keeping Jesus Christ front and center – He has already paid the price – so you’re darned tootin’, I belong in whatever room I’ve entered!

More importantly I can better handle when someone hurts me. Because, let’s face it, hurt people hurt people. It is a shame that communication cannot be the cornerstone, but some do not want to communicate. It’s safer, and more comfortable to live with a perceived wrong than it is to discuss it openly, thereby taking control of the situation and moving on. Sigh. It is difficult living in a society of hurt human beings knowing all they have to do is attend a CR meeting! :)

Any hoot! I’m very excited at the future, where I’m headed, where my body is headed, what I will be able to do as time goes on. This is merely a tool. I need to remember the weight can sneak back on if I am not careful. It is only a tool.

To those of you curious souls that wonder what the diet consists of, could you lose weight quickly? It is like Atkins on steroids. I am taking in 600 to my highest of 770 calories a day. Nearly all of it is protein. I’ll break down my diet below, what I have daily. I take three Flintstone vitamins a day, and three doses of two chewable tablets of caltrate, calcium & Vitamin D3 supplement. You have to take the Flintstone and calcium two hours apart, otherwise they cancel one another out. So every two hours I take a vitamin. I cannot eat and drink together. It literally hurts my chest and stomach if I try. I must get down 64 ounces of fluids a day, which I do via crystal light. I set a timer that reminds me when to eat, because I am usually not hungry. BUT! I must make sure that I have not drunk any fluids, otherwise I must wait a half an hour before eating. Otherwise it will hurt. And, there is evidence that you can stretch your new banana-sized stomach out if you do it often. Then, you simply wait one half hour after eating to commence sipping your fluids. I only have one six ounce cup of coffee a day – those that really know me know how incredibly shocking this is! J

Usual diet:

Breakfast: two eggs with a slice of cheese, scrambled.

Lunch: three to four ounces of whatever we had for dinner. Last night was high protein, low carbohydrate stuffed peppers with quinoa in a pressure cooker (you can find all kinds of great recipes online, just filter your search with “high protein, low carbohydrate.”

Dinner: Usually I’m trying to figure out what to have. As a for instance, I cooked up two ounces of spinach (canned) in with one egg, two artichoke hearts, and about a teaspoon of parmesan cheese. Oh my, it was good! Like a mini quiche! Just use your imagination!

 

By Mike’s birthday, on the 8^th, I’ll be able to eat anything as that will be my “clearance” Doctor’s visit. I’m excited, because, after surgery (and only after – I didn’t think to ask PRIOR! DUH!) I asked if I could have popcorn. I LOVE popcorn. And the answer is yes. Oh, thank you! It is yes! So – movie for his birthday? :)

That’s about it. Now, below are some pictures of hairstyles that have caught my eye. I like the one that has a red hue to it, though I love Anne Burrell’s hairstyle as well! Ha! That is so my personality! :) I would love to change my hairstyle to one of the hairstyles below... feel free to write me a note stating which you like most.

Say a quick prayer for me, please. Tomorrow is the boys’ first day of school, Mike and I have chosen to homeschool this year. For many reasons, primarily because we saw our sons faltering, and there is only so much time allotted to us to properly educate them, and prepare them for what life will throw their way. Also, I’m liking the idea of having more time with them. My boys are such polar opposites, it will be interesting to see where this year takes us!

Have a blessed day, all, thank you for popping by ♥

 

Hairstyles.... VOTE! :)