Journey Beyond Survival

Morgan is someone I resonate with.  She is a mom like me.  She is a wife like me.  We struggle, we play. I like her sense of words and space.  I'm grateful to her for helping me out as we go to our family reunion today.  Thanks again!  *** edited to add SORRY I scheduled it for PM instead of AM Morgan.  So So Sorry!!! I am completely in awe at being given the opportunity to take up space on JBS’ blog today. She has become more or less one of my heroes, someone that I find myself referring to in conversation with non-bloggy people, someone who amazes me with nearly every post she writes. So in addition to being in awe, I am also completely somewhat nervous at the thought of needing to live up to some shade of her standard so that you, her loyal friends and readers, won’t want to come after me with pitchforks and torches ala Young Frankenstein (a riot is an ugly thing.) Lately I have been thinking a lot about pushing, and all the kinds of difficult t...

by: mish@eatingjourney.com When your life is crazy that’s when you think that you can’t handle anymore. I don’t know about you, but I think that JBS is one of the most amazing women I have ever met. She knows her faith, loves her family, never gives up hope to help her kids and is always loving on other people. She has written about her struggles and her weight on my blog . Throughout my own journey of healing from a pretty crap relationship and then binge eating and weight gain I have come to the realisation that my own ability to handle what life throws at me is a heck of a lot more than I thought I could handle. I honestly do believe that after getting over the negative mental state that I was in, letting go of some insecurities and moving into a place of calm I realised something very profound. I can endure. Perhaps many of our journeys are ones with horrible stories, awkward stages, heart break, tragedies, abuse, weight gain, lost jobs etc. It is either those stories wh...

This is one classy lady that needs no introduction. She is MizFit . She's filling in for me on MissTHANG's birthday. Thank you, and hugs and kisses! (a brief and honest rant about why I love the iron. People are always always asking me . . . ) When I lift weights I know that I’m not, in that moment, thinking about how I’ll look in my sleeveless top, but focusing upon how powerful I feel. When I lift weights I know that I’m not, in that moment, ruminating on boosting my metabolism and shedding fat, but on how I am growing stronger and *bigger.* How, as a result of my iron hoisting, I now take up MORE space in the world. How I’m far less likely to be ignored or overlooked. Through weight lifting I have shed my insecurities and become more empowered in all areas of my life. I trust my instincts more, I speak up without fear, and I have learned that saying NO and setting boundaries isn’t going to cause the world to come to an end. For me weight training is about...

I’ve said before that JBS and I have a lot of things about us, our lives, and our families that make us different. Things that in other times or places might make being good friends kind of difficult. But isn’t it funny how meeting here, in the blogosphere, in this virtual way, can make our similarities so much more striking and magnetic than our differences? She and I, we both have kids that we tirelessly fret over. We both deal with guilt. We both have darkness in our minds sometimes, and we both fight like mad to stay in the light. We have spouses that have gone with us to hell and back. We have so many blessings, but I think that we both occasionally need a nudge to remember that. I’m here today at her place to help her out. She’s got a lot on her plate, as we all do, but hers is especially heaping right now. Over the months that she and I have grown to be friends, she’s heard me say over and over “you can only do what you can do. Just take a look at what you’ve got going on i...

My friend Ryan   helped me out during this crazy circus week.  Unbeknownst to me he wrote this post an hour before having his gallbladder removed.  He is that Guy.  So, he has the honor of covering for me while Chickadee is having surgery for her G-tube.  (a feeding tube in her stomach-she can still eat)  He also does awesome work at this site of his, as well as that site which he co-authors.  He is completely amazing.  If you like Twitter, follow him @NoMoreBacon , but be sure to pack a girdle, because your abs are gonna ache from the lunchtime belly laughing.  Oh! and he is the one that took my other blog from limping to  fabulous .    I asked Ryan to write about how his son's autism affected his own health.  Please savor Ryan Sullivan of  No More Bacon : Autism May Have Saved My Life Now I know that’s a really bizarre thing to say. How a disorder that affects so many children could have had some type o...

it was a scientific study analysis of emotions at onset analysis of situations  triggering onset analysis of mental states I was stressed Mr. Survival left my treadmill in an un-usable position on the floor I was trapped in a car My kids embarrassed me in public I couldn't go home Mr. Survival had 3 conference calls to make in his office directly underneath my current aka 'old' living room Mr. Survival had a potential new boss coming for a presentation directly below my whole house for the tour the oldest two were home from school Beansprout pooped at 7:30 am without damaging his daily underwear Did I say I couldn't go home? Bottom line:  it is my fault.  There are other things I could have done.  For instance, it would have cost less for me to check back into a [clean, orderly, nice] motel/hotel than it did for me to run ALL of my errands, rent 2 movies, buy Beansprout 2 new pairs of shoes, drive 45 minutes so the kids would watch the freaking movie ...

We got the moving truck rather unexpectedly. It's more expensive than Mr. Survival planned, so we're doing a lot of lifting, cardio, and squats. No. We're not doing the bootcamp in a trailer. We ARE moving things to the new garage, since we can't move in yet, but they're being kind enough to let us dump in a storage manner. Sorry. I'll have to beg your forgiveness and promise to update you. Eventually.

First of all, I need to address my choice of name for the man in my life.  Hubbend.  I stole it from my sister who actually calls her wonderful man that in moments of happy bliss.  Right now, my life and the man in it don't really fit with the concept.  We've outgrown it for the multipurpose use of this forum. Our hearts aren't so much the lacy bliss right now, and we're fine with that.  I feel like the adornments have been tossed aside, leaving my burlap canvas soul to be zipped up tightly with his rawhide leather.  Nothing's tearing us apart.  Weather, circumstance, or fatigue.  We're gonna work to keep us strong. So, he's Mr. Survival now. Mr. Survival was telling me yesterday that last week was horribly busy.  We made it all week in anticipation of the weekend.  Then church volunteering commitments took him from me while I weathered Beansprout's and miss THANG's double header soccer games.  At the same time, with a misera...

I hope it doesn't matter that it's been a week or so since my post on her...but I do have a fabulous special needs daughter.   THIS   and   THAT   are my most recent musings on Special Needs parenting. I'm not sure what I think about either one. It's about being out in public.   Thanks to Sunday at Adventures in Extreme Parenthood   I can handle this blog hop on a week as crazy as this.  I'm excited to visit all these excellent blogs. Stay tuned next week though, for updates on Chickadee's G-tube surgery, moving and The Beast and it's sugar-free diet.  Thanks for playing along at home. I really couldn't do it without you all. Oh, and visit my Facebook Page to see how my weigh-in went this week for GAG.   **I just figured out that  Super Mommy to the Rescue  and Autism Learning Felt  are the sponsoring blogs.  Please follow them if you link up!

Yesterday I was watching The Biggest Loser on Hulu while cleaning up the kitchen.  (I'm late so this is old news to everyone) My kids were coming in and out from the playroom and across to the bathrooms.  I was cooking, cleaning, organizing.  Just living life. At minute 55 , Ada squirmed under doing well.  It wasn't just that she was embarrassed in the spotlight, or that she didn't want a target on her back.  She had lost ten pounds.   Ten.  Jillian was, putting it delicately, pissed off.  Jillian said, "Ten pounds should have been your breakthrough." They got caught up in this cycle, that is best described as extremely unhealthy.  Jillian verbally beating Ada up, to help her realize how sick it is to seek out a killer beat-up in the gym to have a 'breakthrough' or more likely punish herself for being successful.  Ada set herself up to be a failure. Ada has a terrible backstory.  I'm not arguing against that.  Yes,...

Painted by Edith Buenen So I was reading Design Mom yesterday, procrastinating my daily blog prep.  Just when I was about to feel guilty, I saw something fantastic. It speaks to me because of the gut wrenching torture it was to have a bipolar diagnosis and explaining to my kids why mommy had been so weird before going to the hospital.  Thank goodness I was not violent, but I was definitely weird.  It has been equally difficult to inform them in layers as they outgrow the previous explanation about Chickadee's Rett Syndrome.   Spontaneous genetic mutation sounds so contagious and sterile at the same time. Without further ado I present: Nowhere Hair. Like it. Buy it. Spread it.

Pssssst! It's working. Yeah.  This eating less, moving more, keeping busy. That stuff is working. To the tune of all six pounds I gained are gone.  Yes, they were water, etc.  STILL.  They are GONE. Anybody got a strategy that works for jobs, homes, lives this well?  Do tell! *photo credit

Disaster = trying to figure out what's wrong in turmoil before proceeding I have learned this many times. There are those who Act React Freeze Deny In ancient stories of plunder there is always one of each character.  In the moment of crisis there are always some sitting back in the kitchen enjoying their meal, or knitting some baby booties, or pining for their true love.  In spite of the various alarms.  Some freeze directly under the galloping horse, unable to move out of fright or fear. The remainder of the stories are split in two.  There are those who have a plan and implement it immediately.  In fact, they are usually prepared and ahead of the game.  Then there are those who would have been useful if they hadn't had to think.  When the time for thinking was past, they were caught off guard and had to use valuable time evaluating their options against the challenge. Let's take United Airlines Flight 93 for instance.  Looking so...

So, the good part is that I probably got 20 miles in as I walked back and forth, back and forth sticking my house into a room.  Oh.  That's right.  Into a room. See, we are crazy.  Yep.  I've notified Hubbend that he is now equally deserving of my crazy certification.  We will now move all of that stuff into a storage unit.  Now that Mr. International Negotiator is gone and we can breathe a bit.  Then when we finally find someone willing to take our down payment for a house, or another job, or rent to us month to month while we wait for the other two to happen, we will move again. Just thinking about it burns calories.  Doncha see the sweaty steam rising off the screen there?  Whew!  We live[d] in a home provided as a business perk.  We were not sure what Mr. International Negotiator was going to do.  Kick us out on the spot? We put this at about 15% probability.  Give us ___ days to turn off the lights and mai...

If I had one, a note that is, would you be nice and let me play hookie? Pretty please? I'm moving out of my home this week.  Please go attend to the festivities of my week over on Peanut Gallery Speaks if you miss me too much. I know I will miss this peaceful haven a great deal. Hugs, kisses, and other schmooshing. *photo by cassieduckworth

Follow me if you dare!  It's my day to post at Peanut Gallery Speaks .  I won't be eating, but that doesn't mean it isn't filling somehow! *photo by semicolon-stop

It costs $13,000 to have a relaxing drug induced retreat after psychosis My daughter says she still remembers mommy like that Every time someone says I sound good, I wonder if I'm manic I put my kids to bed at night I help with homework The love of my life has me just as much as I have him I have a sassy groove that's manageable I'm not a perfectionist self righteous prude anymore (much) Life is good I would have given up all of those to avoid this diagnosis of bipolar-nos.  I nearly did.  I can no longer say, "I would NEVER do that" because I simply don't know anymore that I wouldn't.  I know a lot of you out there are weighing the pro's and cons of medication. No, it's not just one. I know more of you than I can count on both hands are either ashamed you are, or can't bear the thought of doing it. Even though you're worried you should. Get checked out.  Just see.  You might be relieved. The thing is, my diagnosis is what I...