Saturday, June 28, 2014

6:44 pm

A year ago, at this moment, my life changed. My battered heart began healing when I first saw (and heard) G.T.
Happy Birthday, my sweet Muppet! 

You are no longer my itty-bitty ten-pounder. You are close to thirty pounds. (I will not know exactly until your appointment in a couple of weeks.) You wear 18 month clothes (more for the length than anything else) and a size five shoe. Shoes that are necessary now that you are walking everywhere. 

You love to climb and knock stuff over. The joy you find in just opening the cabinets we have unlocked for you makes me smile. 

You have brought so much joy to Dad and me over the last year and we cannot wait to see what the next year (and the years after that) bring you.

Now stop leaving teeth marks in all of my furniture. ;)

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Struggling

"Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing."

~August Wilson

If you are one of the many bloggers who read my blog and I read yours, you know that I have not been commenting at all lately. I owe you apologies, especially since you have all so kindly kept up with the few posts I have made here. I feel like I owe you an explanation.

My whole life, I have struggled in my relationship with food. I love food. Love it. I overeat because I love it so much. When I was a child, it really was not a problem because I was active and had the metabolism of, well, an active kid. I played sports and I danced ballet. My dream was to be a prima ballerina.

When I was twelve, my ballet instructor told me that I was too tall and too fat to ever make it out of the chorus. I knew I could not do anything about the tall, but I damn sure could about the fat. Looking back, I was not fat at all. I had (and have) an athletic body structure. However, I took matters into my own hands. 

I thought I was smart. I knew my parents would notice if I stopped eating because of my love of food. I also knew that I needed nutrition. My solution was to eat whatever I wanted, let it sit for thirty minutes and get rid of it. Like I said, I thought I was smart.

Yeah, not so much. It took awhile for my parents to catch on, but they did and they put my ass in treatment. They also yanked me out of ballet and got rid of all my dance stuff. I was so angry with them for a really long time. It took me a couple of years and a lot of talking to a therapist, but I forgave them because I finally realized they did it because they love me.

I was in "remission" (what my therapist called it) for about four years. I was still active and still ate a lot, but I was healthy. My freshman year, I gained eight inches in height and 60 pounds. I was still a healthy weight for my height, but I struggled with it. I did not start purging again, but started talking to my therapist again.

Then, sophomore year, I overheard the boy I really liked telling someone he would never go out with me because I was too big. Again, looking back, I am pretty sure he meant too tall because he was an inch or two shorter than me, but it sent me into a spiral.

This time, a friend ratted me out to my parents and I was back in treatment. I was mad at her for a long time, too.

I went into "remission" again. For 14 years, I ate healthy and I was active. I kept my overeating tendencies curbed with the exception of holidays. I stopped looking at the numbers and actually got rid of my scale. When my husband and I got married, I made him get rid of his scale. (I am pretty sure he never used it anyway considering how dusty it got.) My weight went up and down, but we were dancing ballroom six and seven days a week and my pants fit.

Then, I got pregnant with our lost boy. Being my first pregnancy, I gained way too much in those short fifteen weeks. I ate like I wanted and cut back on my exercise because I did not want to hurt the baby. I gained twenty pounds. Losing William David sent me into an eating frenzy. I tried to eat the hurt away and gained another thirty. 

I was fifty pounds overweight when I got pregnant with G.T. I gained another twenty-three with him, but when I walked out of the hospital, I was only four pounds above what I was pre-pregnancy.

Fifty-four pounds to lose. I could do this and do it in a healthy way.

If you have read my blog, you know we have had a really rough go of it lately, with three deaths in the family. Add in my unhappiness with my inability to breastfeed exclusively and then what little milk I had drying up despite everything I tried to maintain my supply and I am now seventy-five pounds above the upper end of the healthy weight range for my height.

I am struggling. I want to be healthy and happy and so much of my happiness is tied up with my body image, which fights against my love of food. Something inside of me is broken and I am working to fix it because I want my children to see their Momma as a healthy, happy person. 

I am trying and so close to failing right now that I just do not have it in me to give much support to others. I am sorry. 

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Happy Mother's Day!

To all the mothers out there:

Those who get to hold their babies in their arms

Those who only get to hold their babies in their hearts.

Those still seeking their babies, whether through plain old trying, fertility treatments, or adoption.

Saturday, May 10, 2014

Thoughts while showering

Running low on face wash; must put that on the list. I think I'm getting low on deodorant, too. I should probably figure out what we're eating this next week. I know we're out of mi...

Oh, hello, big creepy spider! You're going to die now. Enjoy your Viking funeral though the sewer system.

Mother's Day tomorrow. I need to remember to call Mom and Mama (my grandmother).

Hmmm...Mom was 27 when she had me and Mama was 20 when she had Mom which means she became a grandmother at the age of 47. That means if I become a grandma at 47, G.T. will be...

Wait; how old was I when G.T. was born? 30 or 31? 30? 31?

WHY THE HELL CAN'T I REMEMBER HOW OLD I WAS?

Okay, I was 30, which means when I'm 47...

Holy hell! That means he would have knocked up a girl at 16 or 17 years old.

Nope. Uh uh. Not going to happen.

Fuck! Shampoo in my eye!

Once I rinsed out my eye, I spent the next ten minutes trying to figure out how to have a sex talk with my kid. Who is 10.5 months old. He thinks his penis is a toy to play with while I'm trying to wipe the poop off his butt and boobs are those things milk used to come out of. I have time, but that did not stop the panicking that he is growing up way too fast.

Momma needs a drink.

Friday, April 25, 2014

Spencer's Mountain

Goodreads: High on the mountain which has belonged to the Spencer family for generations lives an almost legendary white deer. When young Clay-boy Spencer goes in quest of the deer with his father and eight tall red-headed uncles, he finds it, and comes back marked for special destiny in the world. What this special destiny is becomes the theme of Earl Hamner's enchanting novel, as we share with Clay-boy, his eight brothers and sisters, and all the rest of the family and his friends the decisive summer which follows.

It is the summer he learns the torture and tenderness of first love.

It is the summer his grandfather Zebulon pays a call on the two lady bootleggers.

It is the summer he he helps his father build a house high on Spencer's Mountain.

It is the summer his city uncle brings home his sweetheart who is not Baptist but Jewish.

It is the summer they sing all night.

But most of all, it is the summer that Clay-boy never wants to end, come finally to September.


Stasy: I grew up watching The Waltons, the show based on Hamner's work. I remember eating dinner, taking baths, getting into jammies and settling on the couch with my brother, sister, mom, and dad to watch the two episodes that were on the Family Channel before going to bed.

It might seem dorky to other people, but the Waltons were a good family and while the show, like the novel, was set in the Depression in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, I saw a lot of similarities between that family and my own.

When my husband and I got married, we lived in Charlottesville, Virginia, in those same foothills. Hamner based his novel on his own life growing up. During my time in Virginia, my parents and sister came to visit and we drove the thirty miles to Hamner's boyhood home and the Walton Mountain Museum. The Museum was full of facts and artifacts from the show and facts about Hamner's life. (Did you know he wrote the screenplay for The Fox and the Hound?) It was one of the most fun days I have had.

Hamner is a wonderful writer and brings the people of the Blue Ridge to life in a simple, clear, beautiful way.


Rating: ★★★★☆  

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Harry Potter

I know I haven't posted a book review in a long time. Part of that is being a parent to a very active almost-ten-month old, which does not leave me much time for reading. (Not truly complaining, because all too soon, he's going to be grown up and gone.) Part of it is that I decided to re-read the Harry Potter series for the fifth or sixth time.

Everyone has read Harry Potter, which means there is no need for reviews. (You have read it, right? I'm not sure we can be friends if you haven't.)

I just finished the seventh book and moved onto a couple of other books, so I will probably have some reviews for you in a month or so when I finally finish them.

Quote of the Day

"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will."