Saturday, April 19, 2014

Absence

I can't believe it has been over a month since I wrote a post.  The reason is that I've just lost the desire to write.  Most of the time I don't feel like there is anything very interesting going on in my life.  I haven't lost any of the weight I've gained and so I don't want to discourage people.  I lose a pound or 2 and then gain it back.  It's obvious that I will never lose the weight I gained or ever get back to the 170s when I can't physically work out as hard as I did before.  I'd probably have to eat 1100 calories per day and when I do cut back my calories lower than 1400 I am hungry all the time and then end up overeating.   

There are so many things going on I don't know where to begin or how to get into everything, but basically I get back into working out for a week or two, and then my back spasms and I can't for days.  I don't know what is going on, but it's been happening for over a year, it's just gotten way worse lately, and more frequently.  Some mornings I can't even bend over.  I feel tired and cranky almost all the time. 

Most nights I don't get enough sleep, for various reasons, so I never have any energy and I feel like all day long every day I am struggling just to get everything done that needs doing.

Earlier this week Abby had some sort of stomach virus, so I was up with her the whole night.  She threw up so many times I lost count, and I literally had 2 hours of broken sleep.  The whole next day I was taking care of her, so by the next day I was completely wiped out.  I ached all over (I often have body aches like I am getting sick when I'm tired) so I barely did anything that day except what I had to do. 

I haven't been in a depression this bad in more than 10 years.  It just seems that everything is going wrong and I don't know how to fix it.  I will be doing better for a few days or even a week and then I just don't care.  My feelings about most things lately seem to be indifferent, and I don't know how to not feel that way. 

This morning I decided to sit by the dining room window and watch the birds.  I just put out the hummingbird feeder the other day and saw the first one yesterday.  Normally that makes me feel better, but not so much today.  I seem to go back and forth between feeling ok and feeling like all I want to do is go to bed and have everyone leave me alone.

When I told the Dr about my back when I went in about my ankle, they gave me muscle relaxers, which don't do anything except make me tired, and I am tired enough as it is.  I bought a yoga dvd for stress relief thinking maybe that would help, and I've been doing it a few times a week, and so far haven't noticed a change– my back actually hurts more.

One of the only things that puts me in a good mood lately is painting my nails.  I know that sounds stupid, and I don't know why, but it cheers me up.  Sometimes I'll post the final product online (like Instagram or my facebook page) mostly for a few of my friends who are into nails.

I keep getting e-mails and messages on From Fat to Fit asking why I am not posting. It's not that I don't want to, or that I want to leave everyone hanging, it's that I don't know what to say.  I am not doing well lately and I don't want to drag everyone else down with my negative crap.  It's overwhelming sometimes.  Sometimes I feel like everyone is asking me for help and how can I help them when I don't know how to help myself?

I hope you're all doing well and have a good Easter.  

I haven't even read many blogs at all lately, so I am behind on that as well.  I've been reading a new book, which I might talk about in my next post.
  
Here are a few photos I've taken over the last month or so, if you're interested.

Aidan practicing his recorder


St Patrick's Day nails

fun sparkly nails

Abby and I being silly

me with makeup

Abby wanted her hair like Anna in Frozen


Game of Thrones

rose nails

bluebirds building their nest

putt putt with the kiddos

firepit on a chilly evening

Easter nails!


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Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Not about weight, but life

Today I got to thinking about a lot of things, one being the fact that ever since I was a little girl all I wanted was to get married and have kids.  As a little girl I was always finding stray animals I wanted to take care of, and I would have had a zoo of pets if I could have (still would if we could afford it and had the space).

There is just this part of me that has always wanted to take care of things, and I don't know why, exactly, it's just how I have always been.  Well, I do have a couple theories, which I'll get into a bit, but I just wanted to talk about this.

If you don't have kids you may not want to read this or understand what I am saying, and that's totally fine.  I realize not everyone wants children and I am all for people doing what feels right in their own lives.  There are some people who want to do other things, or maybe they aren't suited for kids, so for whatever reason, they are childless, and I have no issues with that.  Oprah Winfrey said that she chose not to be a mother because she didn't feel she could be a mother and have her career and do an excellent job at both, and I respect her for that.  I do think you can be a great mom and also have a great career, but I can imagine without help you'd be stretched thin.  Anyway...

What I have an issue with are things I sometimes read online where people who don't even have kids are SO completely judgmental about other parents.  Some of the things they say are so off, and they don't even seem to realize it.

I know it's said over and over, but being a parent is hard.  I'm not just talking about the physical grunt work of parenting (like all the diapering, feeding, bathing, laundry, good Lord-the laundry!) but it's a constant emotional roller coaster.  You have the responsibility of raising these people into being functional adults, and it's hard.  It's hard to know whether you are always doing or saying the right thing.

No one (well, hardly anyone) talks about the tough parts of being a mother.  It's almost like if you seem unhappy about things at all, it's like people don't think you love your children, and that isn't true!  All you see on facebook are the cute pictures and how happy people's families are.  Not many people openly talk about their struggles.  They might post a picture of their toddler drawing on the wall with lipstick, but it's meant to be cute.  They don't talk about the daily frustrations of trying to teach children, well, everything.

Aidan is in 4th grade now and has a hard time in school.  His grades are good, but he has ADHD, so he has a hard time focusing for long periods of time.  I knew as a toddler he was not "normal" by how he acted, but I ignored my gut instinct because everyone said that's just how boys are.  It's not because he's a boy, ADD or ADHD is a problem in the brain.  He had such a hard time in Kindergarten and 1st grade that I knew we had to do something, or he'd end up doing poorly in school.  I've read several books and tons of stuff online, and they all say one of the worst things about ADHD is a child losing their confidence.  They have such a hard time assimilating (especially in the public school system) that it's hard on their self-esteem.  I've already seen this with him.  He isn't able to do the math hall of fame (where they do math problems very fast to get in the special club) and he feels bad about it.

You hear parents who have "normal" kids criticize parents who give their child medication.  I did not want to medicate him and we didn't just go to his Dr and ask for ADD medication.  We took him to two specialists and got him tested (and they said his lack of concentration on the very first test was so poor that they knew he had an attention problem just by that and his score was barely chartable).  We got him counseling and we went as a family, too.  Children with ADD are harder to parent, and so they helped us learn different ways to relate to him.  Then we did decide to give him a low dose medication, and it did help him do better at school as far as finishing his work.  It's not a cure, but it helps.

I hear people say that parents only drug their kids so they don't have to deal with them.  I resent hearing that, because we give him a low dose, so by the time he's home from school it's pretty much worn off.  This is why homework time is so frustrating, for all of us.  We've made a choice not to over-medicate him because I don't want him being one of those kids who doesn't sleep at night and is cranky and then can't behave or concentrate at all.  It's not always easy to know if what you're doing is the right thing, but I know it's harder for him at school, so the teacher is one who reaps most of the benefits of the medicine, not us.  We don't give it to him on weekends or every day in the summer. I do think there are some people who just have bratty kids and label them without really knowing and some Drs are willing to fork over meds, but that's not the case with us.

We all have our judgments about people, but how often do we really wonder what the reason is for things?  I admit when I hear babies in stores screaming their heads off, it annoys the hell out of me.  I know it can't always be helped, but sometimes I do wonder why people take babies out at 10pm to leisurely shop.  I also hate when people bring babies or little kids to movies meant for adults.  So, I am judging there, I guess.

Sometimes I feel like a failure in a way, because all I ever wanted to be was a mom and I don't think I'm that good at it.  I lack patience, especially when it's something I've repeated over and over and no one seems to be listening.  I go back and forth between worrying I am too hard on them, or not hard enough.  Aidan has a hard time in school, but he's managed to get pretty good grades, in part because we work with him a lot at home.  We can spend 2 hours on his homework some evenings.  I feel bad for Abby because I have to spend so much more time helping him.  Thank goodness she doesn't have the same issues, because I don't know how I'd handle it.

There are times I feel resentful of my own kids.  That sounds terrible, doesn't it?  They have the childhood I wish I'd had.  I didn't have parents who were there.  My mom always worked 2 or 3 jobs and my dad worked nights, so we were left with my grandmother a lot of the time.  I didn't have anyone to help me with school work past the 4th grade, because my parents were not educated (both having dropped out in middle school).  There were times I remember my mom literally sleeping all day on her days off, or not even getting up in the morning to take us to school.  We would eat sugar, mustard, or syrup on bread because there wasn't any food in the house.  I remember being Aidan's age and sick with a cold.  My parents were at work and my grandmother didn't drive and was too obese to walk very far, so I walked the two blocks to CVS to buy my own cold medicine.  From the age of 8 when we moved and began taking the bus to school, I got myself and my younger brother up on my own, and got us to the bus.  My mom was at work and my dad would be sleeping because he worked nights.  So, even though it's wrong of me, I think of these things and almost feel angry because they don't realize how good they have it compared to how I grew up.  I don't expect them to at this age and I certainly don't expect them to be as independent as I had to be, however, when I ask them to do something easy in comparison, I expect it to be done.  Maybe that's too harsh, but I don't think so.  If I could do all that, they can pick their shoes up or make their bed without acting like I am ruining their lives. 

No one supervised me as a kid and I basically roamed the neighborhood.  Bad things happened to me because no one was keeping an eye on me, and now I think of that whenever my kids are outside playing.  I do not trust people.  Recently, Aidan had make up school work for a class mate who lives in our neighborhood.  He'd told the teacher he'd take it to him, and he wanted to ride his scooter over.  It's probably about a quarter mile from our house and our neighborhood is small with only one entrance in and out, but it still made me nervous for him to go alone where I couldn't see him.  I had to remind myself that he's 10 now, so he went and he came right back like I told him to.  I was 7 or 8 and riding my bike miles from home to a busy shopping mall with neighborhood kids and I don't know how worse things didn't happen to me.

There are so many things I wasn't taught as a child, even proper manners and things like that, and I had to learn them on my own.  As I got older I saw how other families interacted and I learned from that.  I didn't have a mom who taught me how to cook or bake, because she didn't herself.  She never fixed my hair in pretty bows like the other girls had, because she herself didn't wear makeup or anything like that.  I think part of why I wanted kids, and especially a daughter, was to do all the things for them that were not done for me.  I wanted a real family.  Most of my childhood memories are of my parents fighting and us all feeling miserable all the time. 

I am told that one day when my kids are grown, all these things I worried about will seem like they don't matter, and I hope that is true.  I just want my kids to be aware of things and learn to think for themselves.  I want them to grow up to be good people, and for them to be happy.  I want them to have kids so I can have grand kids who come over on the weekends and I can make them cookies and we can play at the park.

The world is constantly changing and it's hard to figure it all out sometimes, all I know is I am trying my best, and I hope it's enough.  




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