Oof! It's been a rough week. Jack has really been struggling here at home with some on going challenges, and I don't think I've been handling it well. In fact, I feel like I've used every possible tool at my disposal and I'm still coming up short. I will be in the midst of trying to handle the situation, and while I'm dealing with it, I'll be thinking, "You're messing this all up. Everything about what you're doing right now is terribly wrong," My sister, Abbey, says it's paralysis by analysis. Yup. I feel so much pressure to handle this situation correctly. I've read the books. I know what to say and what not to say. I feel like his lack of success is a reflection of my parenting. I'm the one who's a real failure here, not Jack.
So, Brad and I have decided to reach out and seek some professional advice. I got a name from a friend tonight. She works with kids. Her daughter has special needs, which makes me more comfortable about her level of sensitivity to kids. I hope that she, as an outsider, will be able to look at the situation with fresh eyes and give me some insight that I just don't have right now.
On a completely different note, it's just over one month until my 31st birthday. My goal of reaching 165 by then is still attainable. I weighed in today at 175. Yes, I've gained a little bit, but I'm not feeling daunted. I will be fit and fabulous for my birthday. I just need to stop making tasty little baked goodies. I need to find something to do in the afternoon that I find entertaining.
Now, I just need to decide if I feel like having a birthday party for myself.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Long overdue!
So, several weeks have gone by without me updating my blog, so here's what I can remember that's worth blogging about.
My experiment with not stepping on the scale has not gone well. I'm still hovering at 173-174. I do not do well with not weighing in apparently. So, starting tomorrow, I'm restarting my habit of weighing in every day. I want to be back at 165 by my 31st birthday, which is December 4th. I'm so close, I don't want to lose the momentum that I've had.
A good friend of mine commented on how good I'm looking these days, and it gave me pause. I am actually enjoying picking out clothes to wear, and the best part is that I emotionally feel better. I feel like my mind is clearer, and I feel like the emotional fog that I was in the first six months after Cy was born has lifted. I don't feel sad, or overwhelmed by daily life. Do I still get frustrated? Definitely. But I'm getting over it faster now, and when I'm responsible for the welfare of two small children, it's beneficial for all.
I actually have nothing but positive stuff to say about Jack right now. We've finally gotten his digestive issues taken care of. Thank you, Natural Calm. He's been fun to be around again, and I know that our good moods feed off each other. He's sleeping better at night again. He's had rotten luck with sleep since that enormous storm came through the end of June, and Brad's been incredibly patient with him, sleeping either in his twin bed with him, or on the floor.
Wow. I just feel really good, and it feels great to really mean it.
My experiment with not stepping on the scale has not gone well. I'm still hovering at 173-174. I do not do well with not weighing in apparently. So, starting tomorrow, I'm restarting my habit of weighing in every day. I want to be back at 165 by my 31st birthday, which is December 4th. I'm so close, I don't want to lose the momentum that I've had.
A good friend of mine commented on how good I'm looking these days, and it gave me pause. I am actually enjoying picking out clothes to wear, and the best part is that I emotionally feel better. I feel like my mind is clearer, and I feel like the emotional fog that I was in the first six months after Cy was born has lifted. I don't feel sad, or overwhelmed by daily life. Do I still get frustrated? Definitely. But I'm getting over it faster now, and when I'm responsible for the welfare of two small children, it's beneficial for all.
I actually have nothing but positive stuff to say about Jack right now. We've finally gotten his digestive issues taken care of. Thank you, Natural Calm. He's been fun to be around again, and I know that our good moods feed off each other. He's sleeping better at night again. He's had rotten luck with sleep since that enormous storm came through the end of June, and Brad's been incredibly patient with him, sleeping either in his twin bed with him, or on the floor.
Wow. I just feel really good, and it feels great to really mean it.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Sunday check in and a brief history
Okay, so I know that I said that I wasn't going to step on the scale for a month, but that's an incredibly difficult thing to do when you're used to stepping on every day. So, I stepped on this morning, and I was 173.8. I am pretty happy with this, but I wish I'd had the willpower to stay off. I have stepped on the scale daily since I first started losing weight 10 years ago. That's right. I've been on a scale daily for 10 years.
I was always overweight growing up. It was a large part of my identity. I was Sarah, the overweight Bowman girl. I was intensely uncomfortable in my own skin. I never liked myself. I don't think this was unique to me. I remember being in the 180's when I was in 8th grade and being by wearing a size 16 when all my other friends were weighing maybe in the low 100's. Yes, I was about six to eight inches taller than all my other friends, but I was just big. I felt like Andre The Giant and surrounded by delicate beings. I was afraid of breaking my friends.
By the time I graduated high school, I weighed around 200 pounds. I met Brad in October of that year. While still unhappy with my physical appearance, I was happy, no, overjoyed, that someone loved me and found my physically attractive. With our new relationship, came much dining out. And we didn't go to great places. Ruby Tuesday was a regular stop of our, sometimes twice in one weekend.
After a year of dating, I had ballooned. Seriously ballooned. I started having bad headaches that just never went away. I went to the doctor and was told that I had high blood pressure. I weighed 236. I was so embarrassed. I was ashamed. The thing that amazed me the most about that appointment was that the doctor never mentioned my weight as a contributing factor to my hypertension. I was the one who initiated the weight loss conversation.
So, I started watching was I was eating. I had always known that certain foods were bad for me, but never knew how bad they were. I was told to eat 20 grams of fat a day, and no more than 1800 calories. I suddenly was able to gauge how bad my food choices were. I lost weight easily. I had been eating that badly. After a month, I was down to 217, and my blood pressure was heading in the right direction as well.
I lost 50 pounds. I was happy at 186 for a while. But I was still a size 16, and I still wasn't happy. I was exercising, and watching was I was eating, but I wasn't losing any weight. I went to my family doctor, who gave me a weight loss drug. I know that I'm sure some people will have issues with my use of a weight loss drug, but I had been suffering with a stomach problem for years, and it inexplicably almost completely alleviated the symptoms. After being on the medication for 9 months, I went off it weighing in at 151.5.
We got married when I was 23 and I weighed 157.5. (I find it interesting that I remember my exact weight.) After a year, I weighed 163. I decided that I needed to diet, and joined Weight Watchers, and after four months I weighed 147.5, my lowest weight. I had a really hard time maintaining that weight, and ended up gaining it all back by eating Halloween candy.
When I got pregnant with Jack, I was around 165. I had been hanging in about 160, but my dad had been diagnosed with stage IV lymphoma just prior to me getting pregnant, and I'm nothing if not an emotional eater. I gained 40 pounds with my pregnancy with Jack. I was almost back to my pre-pregnancy weight when we found out that we were pregnant again. It was a struggle to get back there, but we were happy to be pregnant.
When I miscarried 2 weeks later, I returned to my old habits of eating junk and stopped exercising. I gained 5 pounds back before I suddenly and unexpectedly found myself pregnant again. I gained another 40 pounds with my pregnancy with Cy, and lost 20 pounds of that quickly: Thank you, 9 pound Cyrus!
And so that brings you up on my weight saga. I really feel like this is the last time that I feel I am going to fit this fight.
And now I have to go as there is a wee babe that is unexpectedly awake.
I was always overweight growing up. It was a large part of my identity. I was Sarah, the overweight Bowman girl. I was intensely uncomfortable in my own skin. I never liked myself. I don't think this was unique to me. I remember being in the 180's when I was in 8th grade and being by wearing a size 16 when all my other friends were weighing maybe in the low 100's. Yes, I was about six to eight inches taller than all my other friends, but I was just big. I felt like Andre The Giant and surrounded by delicate beings. I was afraid of breaking my friends.
By the time I graduated high school, I weighed around 200 pounds. I met Brad in October of that year. While still unhappy with my physical appearance, I was happy, no, overjoyed, that someone loved me and found my physically attractive. With our new relationship, came much dining out. And we didn't go to great places. Ruby Tuesday was a regular stop of our, sometimes twice in one weekend.
After a year of dating, I had ballooned. Seriously ballooned. I started having bad headaches that just never went away. I went to the doctor and was told that I had high blood pressure. I weighed 236. I was so embarrassed. I was ashamed. The thing that amazed me the most about that appointment was that the doctor never mentioned my weight as a contributing factor to my hypertension. I was the one who initiated the weight loss conversation.
So, I started watching was I was eating. I had always known that certain foods were bad for me, but never knew how bad they were. I was told to eat 20 grams of fat a day, and no more than 1800 calories. I suddenly was able to gauge how bad my food choices were. I lost weight easily. I had been eating that badly. After a month, I was down to 217, and my blood pressure was heading in the right direction as well.
I lost 50 pounds. I was happy at 186 for a while. But I was still a size 16, and I still wasn't happy. I was exercising, and watching was I was eating, but I wasn't losing any weight. I went to my family doctor, who gave me a weight loss drug. I know that I'm sure some people will have issues with my use of a weight loss drug, but I had been suffering with a stomach problem for years, and it inexplicably almost completely alleviated the symptoms. After being on the medication for 9 months, I went off it weighing in at 151.5.
We got married when I was 23 and I weighed 157.5. (I find it interesting that I remember my exact weight.) After a year, I weighed 163. I decided that I needed to diet, and joined Weight Watchers, and after four months I weighed 147.5, my lowest weight. I had a really hard time maintaining that weight, and ended up gaining it all back by eating Halloween candy.
When I got pregnant with Jack, I was around 165. I had been hanging in about 160, but my dad had been diagnosed with stage IV lymphoma just prior to me getting pregnant, and I'm nothing if not an emotional eater. I gained 40 pounds with my pregnancy with Jack. I was almost back to my pre-pregnancy weight when we found out that we were pregnant again. It was a struggle to get back there, but we were happy to be pregnant.
When I miscarried 2 weeks later, I returned to my old habits of eating junk and stopped exercising. I gained 5 pounds back before I suddenly and unexpectedly found myself pregnant again. I gained another 40 pounds with my pregnancy with Cy, and lost 20 pounds of that quickly: Thank you, 9 pound Cyrus!
And so that brings you up on my weight saga. I really feel like this is the last time that I feel I am going to fit this fight.
And now I have to go as there is a wee babe that is unexpectedly awake.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Sunday weigh in posted on Monday, and musings on being a crummy friend
I am 175.4! This means I am 10 pounds away from my maximum weight goal. I am overjoyed. I'm also fitting back into pre-pregnancy jeans. This past 2 weeks have been really rough here in terms of managing for me, which makes this weight loss surprising.
The past couple of weeks, I've felt mentally exhausted. There's always something that needs to be done. I just don't feel like I can ever relax and know that I've caught up on everything that needs to be done. There is always laundry to be folded, the dishwasher to be emptied and loaded, beds to be made, floors to be swept. I guess I've been feeling defeated by the sheer magnitude of the work load in front of me. So, I've decided that I need to start a schedule; certain days dedicated to certain chores. I've always kind of enjoyed having a lot of flexibility to my week, but I think right now it's rather destructive.
I've also been a crummy friend lately. I haven't been venturing out of the house much except for trips to the grocery store and to Plan B. It's just so much effort to get Jack on board, catch Cyrus between naps, get myself presentable. On Saturday, I was invited to a birthday party for a friend's son. I woke up, mentally ready to go. Cyrus fell asleep about an hour earlier than I expected, and continued to sleep for the next four hours. I should've just woken him up and went, but I feel so socially awkward in situations where I only know one or two people. I felt so guilty about bailing on the party at the last minute. I was invited to join a celebration, and I stayed at home, waiting for Cyrus to wake up.
Last night, as I was waiting for sleep to come, I realized that while I am not "sad" depressed, I am "overwhelmed" depressed, or "defeated" depressed. Although I really enjoy getting out of the house and visiting with my friends, I always have some price to pay. Someone misses a nap and becomes either cranky, or they become unreasonable, depending on who it is that misses the nap.
So, for one month, I am going to put myself out there. I will make playdates for the kiddos and keep them. I will invite people in, and I will get out. I am going to make every effort to be a better friend. I will email people back the same day that I am emailed. I need to make an effort. I know my mental health will be better for it.
Also, for one month, I am going to put my scale away. I will continue checking in here, but I am going to put it away. I feel ruled by it a lot of the time, and so I am going to try and break free from the shackles of the number on the scale. Heaven help me, I will find this difficult. I've always been someone who's checked her weight every day. This will be a big change for me.
Until next time!
The past couple of weeks, I've felt mentally exhausted. There's always something that needs to be done. I just don't feel like I can ever relax and know that I've caught up on everything that needs to be done. There is always laundry to be folded, the dishwasher to be emptied and loaded, beds to be made, floors to be swept. I guess I've been feeling defeated by the sheer magnitude of the work load in front of me. So, I've decided that I need to start a schedule; certain days dedicated to certain chores. I've always kind of enjoyed having a lot of flexibility to my week, but I think right now it's rather destructive.
I've also been a crummy friend lately. I haven't been venturing out of the house much except for trips to the grocery store and to Plan B. It's just so much effort to get Jack on board, catch Cyrus between naps, get myself presentable. On Saturday, I was invited to a birthday party for a friend's son. I woke up, mentally ready to go. Cyrus fell asleep about an hour earlier than I expected, and continued to sleep for the next four hours. I should've just woken him up and went, but I feel so socially awkward in situations where I only know one or two people. I felt so guilty about bailing on the party at the last minute. I was invited to join a celebration, and I stayed at home, waiting for Cyrus to wake up.
Last night, as I was waiting for sleep to come, I realized that while I am not "sad" depressed, I am "overwhelmed" depressed, or "defeated" depressed. Although I really enjoy getting out of the house and visiting with my friends, I always have some price to pay. Someone misses a nap and becomes either cranky, or they become unreasonable, depending on who it is that misses the nap.
So, for one month, I am going to put myself out there. I will make playdates for the kiddos and keep them. I will invite people in, and I will get out. I am going to make every effort to be a better friend. I will email people back the same day that I am emailed. I need to make an effort. I know my mental health will be better for it.
Also, for one month, I am going to put my scale away. I will continue checking in here, but I am going to put it away. I feel ruled by it a lot of the time, and so I am going to try and break free from the shackles of the number on the scale. Heaven help me, I will find this difficult. I've always been someone who's checked her weight every day. This will be a big change for me.
Until next time!
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