Journey Beyond Survival

Something important to me in starting this whole deal is to be more in control of myself. You know, I can't control others but I can control myself. The Serenity Prayer. I want to be more patient. Yesterday, I was a witch. I was tired of a messy dirty house, and my family 'taking advantage' of me being swamped. They should be taking up my slack, not capitalizing on the avalanche. So I whisked around the house as quickly as if I'd had a broom. I criticized and nagged. I snapped and harped. You know how it is. Or hopefully not. My point is that I want to do better. Okay, so maybe patient is a bit much for me to shoot for at the moment. I want to be respectful. Civil. Yes, that would be a definite improvement. I want to be civil while asking for what I need. I want to be respectful while I repeatedly make it my full time job to train Chiclets to do their chores. Okay. Maybe, it's just the desire to believe for now. What are your tricks for not bein...

*picture from here* Current weight: 208 lb. Difference: -1 lb. BMI: 29 Difference: -0.1 Great work team. Especially considering Moonface and finding myself! Sunshine Award A big thank you to BEE @ The Next Biggest Loser for giving me this award. She has lost 80+ pounds so far, and she has been taking care of her autistic son and her Grandma who has been living with her. So go over there and cheer her on if you don't already. Because she is totally an inspiration. Thanks to Nikki @ Ramblings of My Weight Loss Journey as well. She is juggling a lot on her plate right now between jobs and family. Somehow she still manages weight loss and painting/collage work that is totally awesome. Also, thanks to Katie J @ Katie J is On Her Way because she has lost a TON of weight and is positive and supportive AND she gave me this award yesterday too. She is thoughtful and comments in a way that makes me feel special every time. I am supposed to pass the award on to 12...

Today Beansprout and I went to the local indoor playground while Chickadee and Hubbend were finishing up their test in FarAwayBig City. We'd made these plans before we decided to adopt Lent this year. Beansprout couldn't fathom giving up sugar as Miss THANG and I are doing. So, all on his own Beansprout decided to give up "Egg Yolk and Macdunnels" or Burger King and McDonald's. The only indoor playgrounds are in such places. So we packed Beansprout a cool lunch and set off to meet some friends after Storytime at the Library. He was fine. I'm the one that had troubles. The women are really nice. It would be nice to have some friends outside of therapists doctors and church. And Miss THANG's friends' parents. I like these women. Thing is, they are this and I am that. For the first time in the two years' acquaintance we have had at the library, I got the distinct impression they wanted me to be their type of 'this'. I may be pol...

*picture from here* From downstairs it wafts to my ears, "Journey Beyond Survival" only my real name, because it rolls of the tongue better. It can't be! I have been impervious to the guilt. It's all the way down the stairs. Down the longest hall in the world, in a door, and through another doorframe. The guilt is still contained in a few more layers. Like it's a creepy dead body, I would open the deep chest freezer and hear the seal break as it sucks air inside softly. Louder now, my heartrate would increase and my hands tense. I would hold my breath and reach down to remove the grocery bag. It's moonface reveals it to be a cheesecake. Brought by some well intentioned Wonderful neighbor. No. She is not in the freezer with the cheesecake. I'm just too polite to say no, and too addicted to waste it. It's been there a month or so. The last time it's been calling me this often (which is at all really) Hubbend had just left. Well hello dej...

AFTER me will be perfect. I'm pretty darn sure. It's hard to set goals and not have a rosy tint in the background. When all the planets align, and the solar eclipse is complete, I'm sure I will be. I will never miss making Sit-Down Dinners. I will wear perfectly coordinated clothes in fabulous fashion. Just enough avant-garde to be unique, but not enough to stand out loudly. Also, my hair will be perfectly coifed. Chickadee will have all her supplemental therapy done. Every day. Three times. Of course it is a given that I will exercise and eat well. Of course. BEFORE me is to blame for all my misery. All of it. I am not innately late. Nor am I consistently lazy or an emotional eater. It is all BEFORE's fault. I'm sure AFTER me would have been able to handle everything I've been through perfectly. She wouldn't have caved in and become a mess. No. Never. LIES? Of course it's lies. I am not a coifer. I am late. Emotional Eater could hav...

I'm coming off a hard day. Pharmacy: 3 Me: 0 Yes, that is 3 visits to the pharmacy. Well, six if you count the before and after visits between my shopping. Still no meds for Chickadee. BLARGH! I was also conned into 2 friends' visits. One for Beansprout. Two boys high on life at the same time! Bad idea. Miss THANG had a friend too. Not bad, the friend was an angel. Miss THANG just got more thangy. THANGY. Yeah. Oldest child syndrome gone haywire. Poor little Chickadee fingerprinted her glasses until it was easier for her to see without them. Did I mention that I HATE grocery shopping? I hate making lists, I hate planning menus, I hate dragging two kids through the store. Rather I hate calling loudly (I don't admit to myself that I yell) through the aisles as Beansprout careens around corners and parks perpendicular. With Chickadee's stroller. So, you might have realized that My Dinner Making Goal was a bust this week. I'm going to have to do it agai...

I've gotten to my 20 miles in a week goal. That means that I will easily make my 500 miles in 2010 goal. As long as I don't get injured or something. All I have to get is 10 miles a week and I would have 520 miles. So, the more weeks I get 20 miles the better off I will be. Hooray! My next goal is to be able to run @ 6.0 mph for 30 minutes. If I increase by 0.1 mph every week I should be there in 6 weeks. Anyway, I've been reflecting on how these goals have really helped me complete my exercise goals without any debate in the morning. Even on the weekends or when crazy unpredictable life moments happen. Now, if only I could motivate myself to reach some of my own stronger goals. I do my best when I'm out to beat myself. I get a thrill out of doing better than before. I love to record my stats over a long period of time, and then review them. This is why I love dailymile . It has pretty graphs that track my distance, intensity, speed, etc. It also taunts...

Hubbend is Home!! We shall go to church. Then we shall roll up into a cocoon. We may never ever forever come out.

Current weight: 209 lb. Difference: -1 lb. BMI: 29.1 Difference: -0.3 % body fat: 32% Difference: -2.1% I like my scale now. Ha, ha. It still gave me a range, but I chose the high end since it was a loss even though higher. It was a rough night. Beansprout couldn't sleep so he crept into my bed at 2 AM. Chickadee woke up at 1 or so. Then again at 5 AM. I'd put her favorite toy in her crib. I waited until 5:30 to go check on her and see why the music wasn't calming her down. It was then that I realized something that I've been putting off facing for two or three weeks. Chickadee is weaker. She can't turn over to the right from her back anymore. Nor can she turn over to the left without physical prompts. Which totally sucks. I've been waiting to see if she was sick. Or just extra tired for some reason. Or anything. But no. I can't pretend anymore. I've known the regression window was still open. But, I was hoping that was a minor technicalit...

Thank you to Kelly @ Journey to a New Me . She has a wonderful blog, and not only does she inspire her husband, she has managed to inspire me as well. I am to tell you 7 fun things about myself and pass this award on to 7 other bloggers. I try to make people laugh until they snort. I am NOT ticklish. You try having 7 uncles on one side. Only Hubbend knows the secret place. 'Nuff said. I can type 70 words per minute. Because a typing class made me lose my scholarship, and I had something to prove. I like frozen grapes. Try them. Try them and you may I say! I couldn't drive a stick shift. Then Hubbend sold the only standard. Picture me cursing him through 4 light cycles on the only hill in the land. I now drive a stick shift. I used to practice kissing on the basketball standard pole in my backyard. While my best friend practiced on her hand. My first joke: "Guess what?" *what* "LETTUCE!" Seven BEAUTIFUL bloggers Matt @ Lots to Lose Amy @ th...

Thanks to MrsFatass @ Did I Just Eat That Out Loud? who is sweet and gracious. Apparently I am to tell you all 10 items of honest crap and pass it on to 7 others. Oh, did I say crap? . . . I mean, scrap. So, here we go. I am 5'11 1/4" and I was this tall when I was 11 years old. Seriously. I was the tallest person in my elementary school (including my older brother) in the fifth grade. Excluding only Mr. Wheeler the 6'6" 5th grade teacher. I wear size TWELVE shoes. The earliest size I remember is size 9 in third grade. I have always, and always will be proud of my height. Even when they called me Jolly Green and Mark Eaton's daughter. I relished being the most of something. I don't know how that happened. But kudos to my parents! I have a BA in Art History. I know. Totally useless right? NO. NO. Your parents, economists, the entire world is wrong. Art History is useful. It has changed my life. Completely. I can now name on command almost an...

picture from here Training Wheels, or No Training Wheels? The first time that I heard about these was from my mother. But she didn't make a big deal about it. She simply brushed her teeth when she found herself wanting too many cookies. The next time was from (no groaning please) Dr. Phil's Book. There are a few more I've picked up along the way, most especially from my infamous trio, Tasty Food, Real Food, and Simple Food. (I know, you guys are sick of these. But the Snap pics are so pretty when you roll over the links!) It seemed to me yesterday that nobody really knew what I was talking about. I was *shocked*. This helps me so much! So if you have decided that I am crazy and you really don't want to know about it, comment about it or think about it, feel free to think of this as a JourneyBeyondSurvival indulgence day. If you don't, this could TOTALLY help you! (Do you feel bad for thinking I'm dumb now or what?) Every Time You Want to Jump the Tr...

* We just picked up Chickadee's glasses today. They are the most adorable things. Like a doll's. At my house, this makes them dangerous. Mean mommy surfaced out of the murk and snarled, "NO TOUCHING!" or "I DON'T CARE IF SHE'S PULLED THEM DOWN TO HER NOSE." Miss THANG and Beansprout think those glasses are so cool. Chickadee does too. When she has attention or she has something really fascinating to watch afar and realize that she can see it. All other times- not so much. We spent the afternoon watching movies to get used to it, then removing them as quickly as we could before the meltdown window closed. It wasn't pretty. It's different. It's a change. They slide down her nose and Mommy got that really annoying elastic band around the back of the neck. Those times she doesn't CARE that they make her look 'gorgeous' and she can see the detail of the PB Beansprout left on the wall. But this got me thinking. My wei...

* Me So Hongry is doing a mini challenge for the next seven weeks. She wants to lose 7 pounds in 7 weeks. I think that is a fabulous idea. I'm supposed to set mini goals. My self assigned topic for the day was food. I was thinking about how I don't cook when Hubbend is gone. It's a lot like my friend Traci says, "I'm not gonna fix you little rugrats my smoked salmon with gorgeous apple sandwiches because while you love them, you would be slightly happier with MAC & CHEESE!" I know the kids are happier when we just wing it and let things hang loose. Especially the rules. But, I am the Mother. I know better, and I ought to show them better. Not only will it help us be physically healthy, it will also be extremely beneficial to our relationships. So, my mini goal is to FIX REAL FOOD. And sit down to eat it. With a tablecloth. I'll be doing a bit less pantry rummaging and a lot more confronting my apparent fear of grocery carts. I'll be ...

Family really affects my ability to function. The well being of my children is a factor, but also my extended family. I grew up knit so closely with my brothers and sisters that I think we felt like the largest living organism in the world. Not that we were the biggest family, but that we were connected together underneath just as importantly as we stood alone outside. I depend on family. They depend on me. We've been shaken the past year. It's been with me heavier since this weekend. My nephew died, a month and a half later my grandmother died. In May my own personal tour of Dante's Inferno began. Chickadee began losing words like they were diamonds in sand. Then skills, and finally she ended up in a rocking hell all her own for two months. In July came the diagnosis for Rett Syndrome came. We did more tests in 2009 than I ever thought possible. But, we weren't finished. Hubbend's mother had a double mastectomy because for the third time her breast ...

So. It's Monday morning. Very early morning. In fact, I haven't been to sleep yet. Hubbend is still gone, taking care of a sick father and I can't/don't want to fall asleep without him. *groan* What on earth am I going to do come morning? The three little ones circling me for some attention. Picture me. Apparently lifeless in bed while they whine for food and comfort. I sound really motivated. I have a therapist coming for Chickadee at 9:15 AM. That usually helps me be more responsible. Part of the problem with bipolar is that sleep is VERY important, and sometimes it's VERY hard to get. For everyone normal out there: sleep is very important to you too. 6-8 hours. Yes. I know, I've heard it before too. I'm not getting it tonight either. I even came to bed as soon as I put the Chiclets to bed. I brought the laptop with me though. Not good. By the way, all the abnormal rest of you can look again. Six to Eight hours of sleep is important to you...

I did not forget my weigh in! You probably did, but I didn't. I posted last week that I might need a new scale. Funny thing is, I wasn't being sarcastic. Here are my weigh in numbers over four hours: 214.6 *eeek* went potty 212.8 ate breakfast 210.9 exercised 1 hour 211.6 *hovered there rest of day* So, even though my numbers evened out around 211, I have an unpleasant circumstance. How much do I weigh? Did I lose any weight? Just how much have I lost? I've decided that I'm going to give myself the benefit of the doubt and say I did get to 210.6. I'm obviously hovering around there with the stress of the hospital trip, TOM, and the anniversary. Stress=distracted. That is bad for the scale. Oh well. I'm actually celebrating. Why? I have TWO NonScale Victories. ONE: I went from 13 miles last week to 19.86 miles this week. Woo-Hoo. One of my GOALS was to run 20 miles a week. Another was to run 5 times a week. Well, next week, I'm gonna get tha...

Since I feel the need to post this sometime, I'll do it today. This is the anniversary. A year ago tomorrow my nephew died. He was seven months old. He had an undiagnosed heart condition. It was terrifying for my family. He was so young. It was horrifying for me. Two months before his parents thought Chickadee had the same thing as their son. She didn't, but there was no way to know for sure at the time. A year ago this week is when my Chickadee's right hand stopped working the way she wanted it to. For good. I remember because when I flew out to my nephew's funeral it was the first time I got comments about it. Why was she touching her hair over and over? Did she have a pinched nerve? Did she have headaches? I didn't mind. Much. They seemed logical questions to me. Anniversaries of tragedies are difficult. Hubbend planned a wonderful evening. He made reservations weeks in advance for a romantic dinner at our favorite expensive restaurant on Valentine...

Did you see that? A monster is coming. I've set traps. I drink a lot of water. It acts as a moat. But the monster swam it. I ate a healthy apple. Satiate the appetite. Somehow, the monster knew I missed breakfast. I had handy dandy snacks in the car. To tame the beast. Unfortunately the monster was only momentarily deterred. When stress came, I blogged far away from food. Monster followed me. It had conversation hearts. I thought of my friends, the ones I will blog to. The monster cowered. I teased a few friends on daily mile. Taunting, the monster showed me a cupcake. I wavered. My hubbend left me for a week to take care of ill parents. The monster hovered over me. It had the conversation hearts and the cupcakes together. But, I had to finish my post. I had to finish commenting on my friends' blogs. Miss THANG came home from ballet. It was time for dinner. The monster is melted. For now . . .

*little girl from flickr unrelated to me* My life is wobbling. My schedule is out of balance. I'm dropping plates instead of keeping them spinning high above me. My pot is beyond wiggling on the wheel. The pot is woefully peanut shaped! With Chickadee's perpetual appointments, the rest of my family's dental care (and it's health equivalents), real estate machinations, and various recreational *gasp* appointments, I don't have time. But, I have been creating time out of thin air and blogging with a side of exercise. I should really give lectures on space-time curvature. Every mother should. Looking around my house, I have a question for all my fellow bloggers. What kind of scheduling magicians are you? I mean, for goodness sake, the sheets on my Beansprout's bed don't even remember their expiration date! Don't even talk to me about the mopping the floors or vacuuming. It was before the hospital that it got done. I know that I am recovering from ...

I'm a functional gal. I don't like a lot of frills and I pick at nail polish. I prefer streamlined with punches of color, and Modern Art is definitely becoming my favorite. Wait! Keep reading! I also love to feel pretty. I like feeling irresistible-to my hubbend of course-and I love having fantastic clothes. Feminine clothes that Enhance. With a capital E. So, while I was shaving today and again while slathering myself with the necessary body cream required to keep my sponge hydrated, I noticed something. I have definition! Nothing like I'm going to get, or used to see. But, there are definitely the beginnings of a heart shaped calf and the long lean definition dents I love. I need to have a purpose for my prettiness. Utility unfortunately is still a part of my German/Brit/Swede/French heritage. If it isn't functional, I'm afraid I'll break it. Or forget it. Or neglect it. Bah. I don't need more guilt. This quest is about keeping the usefu...

How do we change? Schedules, habits, addictions, neurosis? I do things be cause of something. Certain things make those triggers faster. TOM for instance makes my fuse short. So do the mental helper meds I'll be taking for the rest of my life. I remember thinking about a month after I started them, 'Did the 7 years of parenting and marriage research and application just go away?' Other things make me more angelic. Running for instance. Showers without interruption. Self care. A funny comedy. What exactly can I do to enhance my perseverance? Chew gum a la Violet Beauregarde ? Perhaps train for the Iditarod. Somehow I don't think so. Perhaps moving Mountains. You know, pebble by pebble. Right? It worked before, hopefully it will work again for the AFTER. So how do you change?

I ate on plan. I took scrupulous care of myself. Which is to say that I did so much better than BEFORE that I don't really care it wasn't quite good enough. Church services were good, they renewed my resolve. I snuggled down in the comforter and watched Hulu. BEFORE I would have soldiered on. My whole family and house would have been sorry. I nursed my cramps that TOM gave me, and cuddled with Beansprout. I put Chickadee to sleep by holding her tight. I fought with my hubbend and family in the morning. I apologized and they let me in again before it set and hardened. Headache notwithstanding, it has been a good day. I'm determined to continue. I will be healthy emotionally, physically, and in my relationship with food.

So the trip to the hospital was stressful. I got into my car in the parking garage, and I just wanted to start crying all the sudden. It's a lot to handle. Up all night with a poor little kid that doesn't want their head taped up anymore or that stupid wire box trailing behind them like a tail. To top it all off I scheduled a communication evaluation when the VEEG was finished. You know, save the 7 hour round trip and an entire day spent. Two fer one. I wanted to cry like somebody had died. I had no idea I'd been feeling like that the whole time. On the way home I slid of the road twice. It was surreal. I'm steering one way, and the car is sliding off the road. Seriously. At least I had the 'non'-sense not to brake. Two semis behind me and a whole train of cars. I was in the left lane, and I slid onto the shoulder. I tried to get back on the road, but I slid off again. I have no idea how I stayed on the shoulder. I'm really glad I did. I saw s...

Weight: 211.4 to 212.6 +1.4 to 2.6 I think I need a new scale. I'll post more tomorrow. I'm wrapping my head around it still, but I'm okay.

This is what it looks like. Only this little girl was having an EEG. The difference? Twenty-three hours. Chickadee has on a hat a lot more permanent than this. However, Chickadee is only this miserable when trying to go to sleep. Or when they put it on/take it off. I've really realized that a huge amount of my stress is due to anxiety about being prepared. I worry about making sure we really have an appointment, or getting enough laundry done so that Beansprout can have a couple emergency pairs of pants. I worry about food, about forgetting the components of Chickadees fluids, or about having Miss THANG's ballet stuff clean and packed for her to take to the sitters. It doesn't help. I still forget things. Several 'crucial' items on my list always get squeezed out. My stress does not seem to be directly related to the tasks or the tests. My stress seems to be about the chaos surrounding the events like this in my life. My stress has the effect of me cla...

Written in advance, since I'm traveling 3.5 hours, checking in, and helping plaster Chickadee with glue and electrodes. Beansprout is going to be five in a month. Lately the constant refrain of my existence is "Pull up your pants!" Hubbend and I have begun an extensive evaluation of the problem. We do not want to have a juvenile delinquent on our hands. I have tightened his 'adjustable' waistbands until the elastics are straining from the bulge of fabric gathered upon it. His little hips have red marks sometimes from his pants being a little too tight. Given the warning flier above, I would be $250,000 in the hole before lunch. *Not counting the times where I shake my head and roll my eyes* Given that even through all these measures I can still see the plumber's crack, I have concluded that the problem is anatomical. Flatt Butt. Yes. Beansprout has no hips, no bum, and no belly. I swear this whole saggy pants thing was caused by the exact same geneti...

So, I've been thinking about this a lot since Saturday. I posted about my 'elephants in the room'. Or, the reasons why I'm anonymous on Blogger. I expected to have a mass exodus of followers leaving my blog. Because-living incognito-I hear a lot of opinions on bipolar. Most of them are NOT good. I did not expect an outpouring of support and friendship. I did not expect people to be accepting. Huh. Add into that the fact that Chickadee has a test this week, and I found out yesterday she needs glasses. This is where my cookie derailment began. I ate five Saturday. Five the next day. Two on Monday and the cookies were gone. Yesterday I opened a bag of gummi worms and 3 Musketeers minis and had a serving of the first and 1/2 a serving of the second. So, I will have to start over again on the weaning myself off sugar. I've been wondering. Why did I do that? Was it because I do not accept myself as much as the commenters? Or because I was fearing rejecti...

And so it begins. Thursday is the day where much of my theories are going to have to be put into practice. Chickadee has a Routine-Evalutation-to-See-if-She-Has-Seizures. I'm trying to tell myself this is normal. Our normal anyway. I have to farm out Miss THANG and Beansprout. Hubbend has some foreign business partners flying in. Chickadee and I will be stuck in one room together for 24 hours while electrodes map out her brain activity. This is routine. This is normal. We will be doing this every six months. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat. I am SO stressing about this. Despite trying not to. Cookies have crept into the 'bane of my existence' category once again. Chickadee is having a hard time sleeping, which means I missed my workout this morning. Not a great plan. The therapist says waking up in the middle of the night repeatedly could signal seizures. Boo. So, any suggestions as to how to do this? I don't want to backslide. I have to order hospital ...

So. I want to run faster. I want to run longer. I don't care about my weight on the treadmill right now. I just want to really be able to say I'm running! I want to do 5 full push-ups. I want to do 10 girl push-ups without my arms shaking. I want to do 150 crunches this way that way and any way. I want to get those 'unreachable' lower abs rock solid. What do you want?