Summer 2017: Day One

We didn't even make it to 8:30 a.m. before we experienced our first crisis.

Let me preface this by explaining that I am not a great parent. I have never in the six years that I've been a parent stayed home all day every day with both kids. The first summer, of course, when my older son was still a baby, I was home with him. But at that point, it was relatively easy. He was on formula by then instead of breastfeeding, so I didn't have to be "tied" to him all the time (man, when he was breastfeeding...sheesh. He'd fall asleep still attached to the boob, which meant I was stuck sitting with him beside me on the boppy pillow, and I couldn't do anything other than watch movies and check Facebook on my phone. Much like every other summer). I was able to take him on errands and not worry about him wandering off, and if he made noise, everyone else just thought it was super cute. When he'd fall asleep, I could get other things done. Ah, those were the days.

The next summer, when my older son was a year-and-a-half, I also had a newborn to deal with. My younger son was born June 8. So my daycare provider, in her infinite awesomeness, took the older one each day so that I only had the new baby to worry about. Thank goodness for that. I don't know what I would have done with a crazy toddler and a fussy infant at the same time. While I didn't get out much, since the baby was still really young, I did at least get out a few times, and he was easy to lug along in the pumpkin carrier.

Ever since then, each summer has been a "partial" summer, with the boys going to the sitter at least three days a week. Two summers ago, it was four days a week, and last summer it was actually five days a week. The days were a little shorter, because we'd take the boys later in the morning and pick them up earlier, but it still gave me time each week to do things for myself. I loved going to the movies on discount Tuesdays. I got to see movies that my husband wasn't necessarily interested in seeing and that I couldn't take the kids to see.

The reason things have changed this year is money. With both of us working side jobs (my husband consults for a company in North Carolina and I proctor standardized tests each month and also work with the National Writing Project to do professional development for teachers), we ended up pushing ourselves out of our tax bracket this year. Instead of getting money back like we usually do, we owe $4000 in income tax. In trying to figure out how we were going to afford the unexpected tax payment, we came to the decision that it was time to end daycare. It seemed silly to pay $1200 each month for daycare when I'm sitting at home by myself, especially since we still paid the full $300 each week even though she watched them for a shorter period of time each day. Two and a half months' of no daycare would take care of $3000 of our tax burden. Then, in the fall, both boys will be in school full time for the first time (big brother in first grade and little brother in kindergarten). We decided that we would put them in afterschool programs at the local YMCA, which buses the kids from their schools to the Y (right across the street from my husband's workplace) and costs for one month the same as about a week and a half of daycare. Seemed like a no-brainer.

The problem is my sanity. Again, as I've established, I am not a good parent. I really don't enjoy spending time with my kids. Now, that doesn't mean that I don't love them. I do. And it doesn't mean that there aren't times when I have fun with my kids. What it does mean is that I have very little patience, and my kids aggravate the crap out of me most days in less than fifteen minutes. I end up yelling at them (never thought I'd be a yeller, but am I ever) about everything.

This morning is a perfect example. Both kids were up much earlier than I anticipated. We let them stay up more than an hour past their school-year bedtimes in the hopes that they'd sleep in a bit. Instead, I was coming back from my walk with the dog at about 6:45 a.m., and both of the boys were already out of bed and in the living room. So much for having peaceful time with my coffee this morning. That pretty much set the tone for the day. Things seemed like they would go ok, for a while. We made up a checklist of things the kids had to accomplish before they were allowed to use tablets, computers, or the tv, stuff like getting dressed, eating their breakfast, making their beds, and the like. But then the wheels started falling off. At 8:20, my older son managed to let the dog out of the house (our yard is not fenced and our dog is not obedient). I had to lure her back into the house with pepperoni and cheese, while my kids ran around and basically got in the way. It's especially worrisome when she gets out, because there's a no-loose-dog ordinance in our neighborhood, so she could get picked up by animal control, and of course she could get hit by a car. I just wish the kids would be more careful. After that, I had a video call with a coworker regarding the professional development we are doing for some teachers later this week (which I still don't have childcare for, by the way). I had to find a place that was quiet and that the boys wouldn't be likely to interrupt me. I went into my room, leaving them in the living room supposedly watching a movie. But of course they couldn't stay away. I didn't lock the bedroom door because I assumed they would hammer on it a be loud. But that meant they could come in. They both wandered in and out, asking questions, waving into the camera, and even making posters and showing them off. My friend thankfully has several kids of her own and totally understood, but it was still frustrating. My call didn't last long, thankfully. Both kids then started clamoring for lunch. At 9:30 a.m. Sigh. Perhaps if they hadn't woken up so early... I managed to distract them for a while with another movie, but they both grew bored. I told them both several times that they could go out and play with their friends, but they were unwilling to put forth the effort to find someone to play with. And heaven forbid they play with each other. That almost always ends in tears (occasionally mine). The crowning jewel of the morning was when my six-year-old knocked a salt shaker off the counter, popping loose the bottom and spilling salt all over the floor, which he promptly walked away from. It's still only 11:30 now, and I've already given them their lunch. They've been begging for snow cones, because I foolishly bought them a snow cone machine. I'm wishing I had tequila, because I could turn my own snow cone into a nice frozen margarita. :)

So, it's not even halfway through the first day of summer, and I'm already done. I have a couple of errands we need to run this afternoon, to the store and to my school to pick up some honors essays I need to read. Then I really hope I can convince the boys to play outside and give me some time to do some reading. I've got basically four books I need to read for my professional development workshop on Wednesday. Two days...four books...two kids...*sigh*

Pray for me.

Oh, what a difference a year makes.

I haven't been very good at blogging, which disappoints me, because I really do enjoy writing. I just haven't felt that I've had much to write about. But here I am at an anniversary, so I feel like this is a good time for a post.

Today's weigh-in: 179.6.

This is not quite my lowest weight in the year I've been on the ketogenic (HF/LC) diet, but it's close. I think my best weight was 177.8, some time last week. One thing I've learned about this diet is that it has a lot of ups and downs, both literally and figuratively. My weight can fluctuate within three or four pounds pretty easily. That is really frustrating, but it's also usually pretty easily handled. I have also found that some foods don't work for me. Anything with ground beef, whether it's in burger form, tacos, chili, whatever, seems to trigger some kind of water retention. I typically gain a couple of pounds after eating something like that, and usually lose it in the next few days (side note: tomorrow will probably see such a gain, as I had a cheat day today: it was Indian taco day at school today, and hell yes I had one). Something that seems to help me lose quick weight is a fat fast. Unlike our regular ketogenic diet, which puts our fat intake between 60-70% of our calories, the fat fast is more like 80-90% fat. One that I had read about that seems to work well for me is to eat about a brick of cream cheese a day, and that's it. I know that sounds weird, but it works. Another thing that seems to work for both me and my husband is to have scrambled eggs and bacon or sausage for dinner. The mornings after those dinners, we usually find that we've lost weight from the day before.

Anyway, the upshot (or downshot, or whatever) of all of this is that I've lost about 50lbs in the past year. That's pretty impressive, considering it's entirely from the diet; there has been no change in my physical activity. I walk 2-3 miles almost every weekday, with the dog. That's it, though. I do feel that my physical activity level will have to increase, though, because my weight loss has slowed to a crawl. I doubt that I will be able to lose a whole lot more without a change in my exercise plan. I don't know what would be best, jogging, weight lifting, or plyometrics, but I don't have a lot of options because we don't have our gym membership anymore. I need to figure out how to work out at home, when the boys aren't here (because they must be involved when they're home. yay).

I don't have an official goal as far as my weight loss is concerned. I honestly didn't think I'd manage to hang on this long. I struggled with the ketogenic diet mightily at the beginning (I just went back and reread my posts from a year ago, and they were hilarious in a sad, depressed sort of way). Having done it for a year now, I do think it is something I can continue, with occasional cheat meals (like Indian taco day at school). If I can get below 174, I'll beat the lowest weight I achieved back in 2007 when we worked out so much. If I could get below 155 (which I doubt very much), I'd be down to the weight I was at when I graduated high school. My lowest ever adult weight was about 123, but of course that was through very unhealthy means, so it doesn't really count.

I'm proud of myself for working through the difficulties at the beginning of the diet, and sticking with it this long. I've found lots of resources, mostly on Pinterest, for recipes that we've been able to use. I have high hopes that I'll at least lose a few more pounds, and that I'll be able to maintain my weight after that. Now I intend to improve my fitness...stay tuned.

So much for my plan of blogging more often...

My last post was right before school got out for the summer. It's now been a week and a half since school started again, and I'm only now just posting...so much for my grand plan of posting more regularly and more often. Oh well.

Weigh-in: 185.8. This is about 1.5 lbs up from yesterday, but we had a pretty epic cheat day yesterday, hosting a fantasy football draft party at our house. I still feel like I ate better and less than I historically would have at such an event, but I certainly didn't stick to the low carb plan. I feel a bit lethargic and bloated today, and I'm sure that has something to do with it. I probably should do a fat fast this week. I'll wait and see if I drop some water weight this week before doing anything specific.

I'm about a month and a half from doing this low carb diet for a full year. I have to admit, this has been the only diet I've ever stuck to. But it's pretty clear that my weight loss has slowed significantly. I hit 185 back in mid July, and two months later I'm still at approximately the same weight. I need to make some changes, and I'm pretty sure those changes are going to have to come in the form of physical activity.

It isn't that I haven't been active; I walk (with a slight bit of jogging) between 2.5-3 miles most mornings. But obviously that isn't make a significant impact. Last summer I was doing the same thing, and didn't lose any weight at all until we made the dietary change. So I need to figure out something else. Most of what I read suggests that weights and intervals are the way to go. With the weather changing and getting icky outside (snow closed the mountain passes yesterday), I wonder if I should consider a treadmill...

There But For The Grace Of God...

I've been lying awake stewing over this particular issue long enough this morning to feel compelled to post, but it might cost me some friends. The accident at the zoo in which the gorilla was shot and killed to protect the 4-year-old boy who crawled into the enclosure was a terrible, terrible thing. It was a perfect storm of things that went wrong: an enclosure that was apparently not as secure as everyone thought, a mom who didn't take her son seriously when he said he wanted to go see the gorilla up close, you name it. But I am not ranting about the existence of zoos, or the choice to shoot to kill rather than tranquilize, or any of that. I am ranting about those people who are posting things calling that mother a "bitch", saying she should have her children taken away from her, saying she should be shot and killed as "Justice for Harambe". You know what? You are a f*cking terrible person. Let me explain why I feel this way right now. I have read comment after comment from people basically saying the same thing: "She is a bad parent because she let her child out of her sight. She is at fault. She is a terrible person and should be punished. [Here's where it really gets me steamed.] One of the following: I DON'T HAVE KIDS, BUT IF I DID, THIS WOULD NEVER HAPPEN TO THEM BECAUSE I WOULD WATCH THEM LIKE A HAWK. Or I WATCH MY CHILDREN 100% OF THE TIME; THAT EXPLAINS WHY NOTHING BAD LIKE THIS HAS EVER HAPPENED TO MY CHILDREN." I'm sorry, but if you believe that you are the reason nothing bad has happened to your kids, that you have kept an eye on them 100% of the time, round the clock, YOU ARE AN SANCTIMONIOUS IDIOT. No parent is perfect. And nobody, not a single person, not even the Immaculate Mary, has watched their kid 100% of the time. It's not possible. The reason nothing bad has happened to your kid is because you are lucky or blessed. And let's face it, nobody is always lucky or blessed. If you think you are a perfect parent and better than everyone else, I invite you to unfriend me right now. Because everyone makes mistakes. We don't all make the same mistakes, and we don't all make them in the same places. One of the thoughts that went through my mind when I read the news story was, Thank God that wasn't Brendan. Because kids are like Weeping Angels from Doctor Who: they are fast, faster than you can believe, and so you'd better not blink. Because there will come a day that you SWEAR you are watching your kid 100% of the time but you suddenly realize they aren't standing right next to you in the women's department of Target, or they aren't still playing on the floor with their legos, or they aren't on the swing on the playground even though they were JUST THERE, or God forbid you hear a screech of tires and realize your child is running into the street after a ball even though you've told him 100 times to never do that. The kid apparently told his mom he wanted to go in and see the gorilla, and she should have taken that seriously. But kids also say things like, "I'm going to go live on the moon" and "I'm going to marry my teddy bear." And you're supposed to magically know when to take that comment seriously? How do you know when a kid is going to act on something? YOU DON'T. The woman also had several children with her; should she have had another adult with her to help her with the load? Perhaps, but why does this suddenly justify a thousand Internet comments screaming for her head? Yes, a terrible, terrible accident has occurred, and heartbreakingly an animal has lost its life because of it. But if you think that this justifies death threats towards this parent, and you AREN'T A PARENT: Shut the f*ck up. And if you ARE A PARENT and you are spewing this crap right now, I want you to repeat after me: THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD GO I. Because it COULD be your kid, no matter how awesome of a parent you THINK you are. So shut the f*ck up. YOU ARE WHAT IS WRONG WITH SOCIAL MEDIA. Go ahead and do us both a favor and click "Unfriend" now. Rant over.

Ingratitude

I feel like an ungrateful beast a lot of times. I have life pretty good. I have a husband who loves me, two healthy kids, full-time employment...basically, everything I need. But I spend a lot of time being sad and depressed, when I don't have anything to be sad and depressed about. Depression is a bitch, because not only does it make a person feel awful, but can also remind that person that they shouldn't feel awful, and then that person feels awful about feeling awful.

Case in point: today. I spent a couple of hours this morning standing at an intersection in town, directing traffic for a half marathon. I was there for the safety of the runners, stopping cars while they crossed through the intersection. The half marathon is in memory of the son of a friend and coworker, a son who was five months younger than my older son, a little boy who died a few months shy of his second birthday. I am always reminded of this little boy as I check off milestones in my kids' lives. Brendan is 5 1/2; Josh will always be younger than 2 in the minds of everyone who knew him. Brendan will be starting kindergarten in the fall; Josh never even got to attend preschool. Brendan is an unstoppable energetic force; Josh never even learned to walk. This half marathon today was a fundraiser for an organization here in town that pays for the funerals of babies who died before their first birthday. I never faced anything like what those parents face. I should be incredibly thankful.

Then, I come home and read a blog post from a former student. She and her husband have three kids, all with special needs and medical conditions. Her youngest is in the hospital right now with breathing problems; one of her twins has a lump in his neck that may turn out to be cancerous (but hopefully will turn out to be benign). I cannot imagine the struggles that their family goes through on a daily basis. Both of my kids are on track developmentally and are healthy. I will never know what it is like to have a kid with chiari malformation or autism. I should be incredibly thankful.

But I sit in the middle of my living room, completely annoyed with my children and wishing I could be elsewhere. I feel exhausted and headachy, and I am inexplicably grumpy. I am ungrateful. And I hate myself for it.

Slow progress is still progress

Today's weigh-in: 191.8

Well, I'm nearing a goal...I had hoped a couple weeks ago that I could be at or below 190 by the end of the school year. We still have four weeks to go, so it's looking possible. [Of course, I could easily bounce right back up, so I'm not trying to count any chickens before they've hatched.]

The next goal I have in mind is 185, which will put me in both of my kayaks again. I'd like to paddle a bit this summer, probably not on any rivers but maybe on the local lake.

After that, I'm hoping to get down below 175...that's about what my lowest previous weight was, around 2006? Hard to remember that long ago.

It's very slow going, though. I'll be stuck, plateaued, with my weight yo-yoing in a 3-4 lb fluctuation. This 191 that I've got could easily be 194 tomorrow. I need to keep going. I just wish I could have a consistent weight loss instead of the yo-yo pattern. That is no fun.

Think about Ink

So, for a while now, I've really wanted to get another tattoo. I got my 8th tattoo back in 2012, a few months after my younger son was born. This was the most important tattoo, one that was a memorial for my mother. It's a big celtic cross with knotwork on my left shoulderblade, and it has her initials in her own handwriting beneath it. I love my tattoos, although I admit that several of them have no real significance; I just got them because I liked them. But now, I have several more ideas for tattoos that I really really want to get, and all of them have significance.

1) On my right foot I would like to get a quote from Lord of the Rings. It's a line from the poem about Aragon: "Not all those who wander are lost." I would do it in a font similar to what Tolkien used for the books. I would like to put it along the outside of my foot, maybe wrapping around to the top. I'd also like to put a compass rose on the top of my foot. I'm trying to figure out if there's a way that I can incorporate several things into the compass rose. I'd like the arrows of the rose to be Katniss' arrows from The Hunger Games. In the center of the rose, I'd like to put the Deathly Hallows symbol. I'd love to see if I could get the Star Trek logo in there somehow as well, but I'm not sure how. And I want to find a way to incorporate a semicolon (see The Semicolon Project). I don't know if I can get all those things into the compass rose. I might just do the rose with the semicolons and save the other symbols for another time.

2) On the inside of my left forearm, I would like to get a quote from To Kill A Mockingbird, in type font. It's from the end of the book. Scout says, "Atticus, he was real nice." And Atticus replies, "Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them."

3) I want to get another Celtic knot, called a motherhood knot. I'm thinking about the back of my neck, or maybe the middle of my back between my shoulderblades. I would love to get some cool colors with it, like a watercolor splash. And I'm thinking about incorporating a quote somehow. I love the line from Shakespeare's play The Tempest: "We are such stuff as dreams are made on."

The problem is, how to pay for all this. I'm notoriously bad at money; I tend to spend it as soon as I have it. I need to save a couple hundred dollars for each tattoo, I'm sure. Just don't know how my hubby will feel about it. He has one tattoo, but he's never succumbed to the addiction like I have. Hard to justify a couple tattoos when we've got hefty balances on our credit cards. :/ I need to figure out how to make some money. O.o