Halloween Update

Adam worked like crazy on his Viking costume. He had some very animated discussions with the sewing machine. Quite colorful. I only helped him with the shirt. He did the pants and cape himself.

He also made the shield and sharpened the sword.

Paul, Kelsey, and Kelsey's sister Jess dropped by on Halloween. Paul and Kelsey are the two brownies from the movie Willow.

Paul must have been freezing with all that skin showing. *shivers*

We've had Robert's little guy Davey the last couple of days. He's so dang cute.

He wasn't sure about the cow rocker at first, but it didn't take him long to catch on.

My Quest - Part 2

My previous post detailed some of the frustration I've been experiencing lately (all right, for most of my life) relating to my weight. 

Source



Yesterday, my hubby told me that on The Today Show, they talked about the issue of hormones on weight loss, that hormones are keeping people from maintaining their weight loss. There's also an article here from msnbc.com that addresses it.

His comment reminded me of a book my daughter told me about when I visited her on Kaua'i nearly 18 months ago. She had a book by Jillian Michaels of The Biggest Loser fame about hormones in weight loss. The book is called Master Your Metabolism.

This all got me thinking. Once again--scary, I know. It's all well and good for me to try and lose weight and (harder still) keep it off, but it's very hard to do when the people around you keep the stuff that will sabotage your efforts.

Hubby.

He's got some major health issues, and he's been complaining about the weight he's picked up. Now that he's really (please, God) retired, it might be a good time to enlist his aid not only in my own efforts but his as well. He eats horribly. Our sons when they've worked with him have commented on how badly he eats.



Source



See, it's so not fair. I try and eat right and exercise. Result? I'm fat. Hubby? He eats crap and only exercises as he must to accomplish his handyman jobs, and he's thin. It's only the last couple of years that he's started getting a little tummy. Ugh

He told me once that he understood what it was like to have a weight problem because a bazillion years ago when he quit smoking (quite a big deal since he was sucking in 3 packs a day then) he gained 30 pounds. Um, just for clarification, he's 5'11" and weighted 125 lbs at the time. Rather snarkily I informed him that going from emaciated to normal is not a weight problem.

Anyway, I've been thinking now might be the perfect time for us to do this together--in what would be our quest. I checked to see if I had Jillian's book, found out I only had the recipe book, and downloaded the ebook to my Nook. I've been reading it to hubby.

He's very proactive about his heath, especially for a man. One of his brothers once accused him of being a hypochondriac, and I imagine there's an element of that here since hubby is easily cured with sugar pills, but his health issues are real:

Fibromyalgia

Osteoarthritis

Rheumatoid Arthritis

So anything that can improve his quality of life has to be good.

At work, they're doing a Biggest Loser contest to help people get through the holidays without gaining weight. I'm going to sign up. I figure between hubby's need for a partner in this (he'd never do it if left to his own devices), my own desire to do something, and holding myself accountable on two levels (work and here), maybe I'll make this one stick.

Really? After years and years of what has essentially been nothing but failure? Why do I even want to do this? AGAIN?

See, I've always loved a thought attributed to Thomas Edison:

You only fail when you quit trying.

Of course, I'm also a realist.

This



is never going to look like this



Why?

1. I'm not built like that. We are anatomically what our genes say we are, first and foremost.
2. I've carried and given birth to five large babies. There may be a few women out there who can get away with pregnancy with few impacts on their bodies but for me (and I imagine most women) it changes your body. Forever.
3. I'm old. My skin's like that pair of old underpants you had as a kid. You pulled them out of your drawer one day and the elastic stretched and never went back. Like Indiana Jones said, "It's not the years; it's the mileage." In my case, I believe it's both.

So, with that little reality check fresh in my mind and some reasonable expectations, I think I may be feeling ... a little more positive than my last post.

To be continued ...

A Little History

Just so ya know. I'm sick and tired right now. I usually love my job and am surrounded by wonderful people trying to make a difference.

Over the past 13 months, though, we've suffered through two major losses. First, my direct manager died suddenly (he was nearly 3 years younger than me). They appointed a new person, and he's doing a great job. But his management style is different, so there have been adjustments. I realize that's just a fact of life.

Then last month, two days shy of the first anniversary of my boss's death, the mayor died. I've been at my job for nearly 15 years, and he'd been mayor for nearly twelve of them. So now we have more changes. Once again, they've appointed someone I hear great things about. Change is inevitable here, too.

I'm sick and tired of the way politics tend to play out. Why is that when people disagree over an issue, the person they disagree with must be cast as a villain--evil or a liar? Can't they just agree to disagree and move on? Or, heaven forbid, work together on a compromise everyone can live with?

I've been disgusted watching it on the national level, but it really sickens me when I see it on the local level. It really leaves a bad taste in my mouth. We've got a viper in our midst right now who goes around to the press behind our backs and makes it look like we're all either incompetant or liars--all because this person is frustrated at not getting his/her way. And it looks as though at least one of the candidates is finding an audience in the current economy that's fueled by the hateful Washington poison. If this person wins (and I fear it may be likely), the amount of poison making its way into the work environment is going to increase.

Venting here, I know. My reason is to set my current mood.

Disclosure: I'm a whiner today. There are so many people in much worse condition than I'm in. I acknowledge this. But this post is about the beginning of a quest, and I feel it's important to lay my starting point.

I'm sick and tired of fighting the weight battle. My mom put me on my first diet when I was 13. Yeah. I've been dieting for 44 years. That's longer than my deputy's been alive. I was 5'7" and had hit 140 pounds. I understand my mom's concern. She'd fought the weight battle all her life, and she didn't want me to have to go through it.

Um, mom. Epic fail here. Sorry.

I've done a lot of study on healthy eating, and I try and practice what I  know. Obviously I'm not perfect. but I do exercise regularly. Yet I'm still fat. Probably not as fat as I would be if I hadn't been fighting all this time.

I'm just worn out and feel inclined to give up, but I can't stand the thought of what giving up means. I've been active all my adult life. I don't want to surrender my energy, flexibility, or ability to move that I have (limited though it may be at my age and with the fat I have).

Over the last few weeks, the issue of how to proceed has weighed heavily on my mind. I've had a couple of successful weightloss sessions. One was after Paul was born, and I lost 42 pounds. I did the How to Lower Your Fat Thermostat used with the Neuropsychology of Weight Control. It worked well, I wasn't hungry, and I felt great. But when I got preggers with Adam, I found that all those great foods that had sustained my in my weight loss efforts made me want to vomit.

Typical. Like when I found out that my phenominally low cholesterol (between 107 and 124) could also indicate an increased risk of cancer. Really? I've actually got something going FOR me and now they're saying it's not so wonderful after all.

I gained a lot of the weight I'd lost back but worked on getting in the groove again after giving birth to Adam. I wasn't able to get back down to that same weight again, but I was definitely way ahead of where I'd started.

Then my children got into the difficult teen years. Did I mention I'm an emotional eater? We'd moved, and I was doing a long commute via bus. I'd leave the house at 6:15 a.m. and get home about 5:55 p.m. I'd do How to Lower Your Fat Thermostat, and it'd work well ... for a while. For example, I did very well once for nine months--didn't go off it once. One of the secretaries got me a birthday cake. Such a nice gesture to buy me a cake when my own family didn't bother. I felt an obligation to have a piece. Big mistake. One thing I've discovered about myself: once I say "yes" I stop saying "no".

Seriously, it's a good thing drugs have never appealed to me.

And all through this we dealt with children struggling with mental illness. We've survived, but remember, I'm an emotional eater.

About eight years ago I gave the South Beach Diet a try. I was ready for a change and in the perfect frame of mind. And it worked. Just like Dr. Agatston said it would. I didn't crave the foods I shouldn't eat, and the weight just dropped off. I lost 13 pounds the first two weeks and 56 pounds over 6 months. I was down to what I'd weighed when my hubby and I'd gotten married.

But then the weight loss stopped. I still needed to lose some, and I plugged away for another 6 months. Not one pound lost. I didn't make the connection until later. I'd gone into menopause. Something strange and unexpected happened. When my cycles stopped, so did the weight loss.

Wonderful. I had something good happen (an almost uneventful change of life) but now I can't lose weight anymore.

Like the eating thing, I have diet program issues, too. Once I've gone off one I have a really hard time getting back on to it again.

I've tried Weight Watchers, but I get sick of counting. I know I can do the Core plan. But I don't want to. I remember the first time I tried WW, it was back before they had any of the low or nonfat foods. We had to make our own salad dressing with packages of Hidden Valley Ranch seasoning packets in ... buttermilk. I hate buttermilk.

So what's my point?

I'm sick of all this. All of it.

But you know what I'm even more sick of? All these extra pounds of fat I still carry. And the older I get, that pear figure (that's healthier than an apple because it means I had less fat in my belly) goes away and my body turns more applish all the time. I read one health book that talked about the issues of being an apple and a pear, and one thing really struck me. As children we start out as apples. Then we do our apple or pear thing. But in the end, as time takes its told on us, nature is bound and determined to turn us back into apples. I believe it.

What's a girl to do?

Should I throw in the towel? Do I just give up? I'm tempted. It's seemed really appealing to me the last couple of months. I don't want to do this anymore.

And then this gets me. Every. Dang. Time.

The alternative isn't acceptable.

Yet, I can't do the same ol', same ol'. Einstein is attributed with defining insanity as:

doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Now what? Well, I've got some things going around in the back of my mind. Scary, I know.

There's something coming up at work that could be the motivation I need to do ... something. I'm hoping to use my blog as a way to be accountable. Only time will tell if it works. At the very least, it may keep me motivated for a couple of months. At the most, it might set me on the path to success.

To be continued ...

Go Ahead. Kick Him While He's Down

Like Fibromyalgia and two kinds of arthritis aren't enough, poor Ed found out yesterday he has Plantar Fasciitis. That's what I had over ten years ago. Three surgeries later, and my feet are great, but for a while there it got so bad I had to use those motorized carts to do my grocery shopping. When is it going to end for the poor man?

Quick Trip

I flew to Disneyland on Wednesday to join Ed and Erin's family. All I can say is the older I get the more I dislike spending long hours in a car. I retain too much fluid. Flying from now on!

But we contacted Grampa Hanson, and he drove over to join us. He wasn't enthusiastic about the Disneyland trip since he felt he'd already seen everything there many times, but we were at California Adventure on Wednesday. None of which he'd seen.

The gang out front.

My new camera does panoramic views

And we weren't even up north visiting the Redwoods!

 

Don't you love that blue background?



Lucy meets Grampa



Madelyn and Aidan sharing a chocolate shake. And contrary to what Paul suggested, Aidan's not snorting it.



This is what Lucy thinks of chocolate shakes.

Taking a break while the others do Tower of Terror. Notice that I'm taking the picture, meaning that I'm NOT on ToT.

Taking a break at A Bugs Life. The show "It's Tough Being a Bug" is one of my favorites. Quite the jumping experience.

The Ferris Wheel is so much more fun than the ones they had when I was a kid.

Waiting for the show to start.

We stayed for something called World of Color, which is an amazing water, laser lights, fire show over the little lake. They included videos excerpts from several Disney movies, broadcast ON the water. Makes me want to sit down and watch those movies again.

We went to Disneyland on Thursday, which was decorated for Halloween.

Sienna and Pumpkin Mickey

One of Erin's dear friends from Spanish Fork met them at Disneyland, so they could see her. That's awesome to have friends like that.

We had to do Autopia.

Papa and Aidan

Spencer and Madelyn

Sienna's convinced she's going to be a terrible driver. I told her not to just based upon this experience.

And the Jungle Cruise.

And Tarzan. It's fun what they've done to update this old Swiss Family Robinson treehouse. There's a treehouse in WIP #1.

And the Tiki Room! This was my mother's favorite attraction.

I especially love the Haunted Mansion's transformation into Nightmare Before Christmas

We took Mad to see It's a Small World because the line was too long for the Materhorn. When we came out the parade had started. She loved the princesses ... but not the streetlight position. Go figure. She loves the Matershorn but was scared to stand on the the streetlight post.

Papa and Mad heading home with Main Street in the background.

I'm already going through withdrawals from hugging and kissing the kids. *sigh* Now I have to wait until January.

At this rate David's kids will be adults before we get to see them again. They're loving it in China.

Before we left, Ed got a chance to see Robert's little guy, David.

He's getting so big, too!

Disneyland

As I write this Ed is driving through Auburn, California on his way to Disneyland via Fresno, where he'll drop off some equipment and see Richard and Carolynn. I have to do the election Canvass prep work for the meeting on the 20th, so I won't be flying out until early on the 21st.

We're going to Disneyland because Erin and her family are going there on the way home from a work conference for Spencer in Texas where they've had a chance to see some of Spencer's family. This must be a really nice break for Spence, since he hasn't been off the islands in over two years.

I can't wait to see everyone. I just wish Ed had flown, so we didn't have to make that long drive. My back hates sitting in a car for a long time now, especially certain seats (like he has). Even in my Avalon's lumbar seat I can only take riding in it for so long. And 11 hours is a long time.

Grrrr

I don't know what to do. I don't know what I can or should do. Ed was supposed have been able to retire on his birthday in July. Unfortunately, all he planned for was Social Security, so it's not a lot. And when do you get your first paycheck from them? Two freakin' months after you've "retired"!

The poor guy has suffered with Fibromyalgia (a condition that intensifies the pain you feel and adds more to it) for more than twenty years. Now he's got TWO kinds of arthritis on top of it. He's been working hard trying to complete projects he committed to earlier, but he's in so much pain he's just slowing down. He had to take four Lortab yesterday on top of 3200 mg of Ibuprophen just to function.

I wish people would just stop asking him to help. He loves to help, and he can't say "no". When I tell him he just needs to explain his situation to them, that if they really are his friends and they care about him, they'll understand and be more than happy to ask someone else to help. But somehow when I suggest this I become the bad guy!

I'm so upset at this moment I want to either cry or hit something.

/endrant