Happy Halloween

This is it girls. The kick of of the eating season. All I can say is:
"Ere you left your room this morning, did you think to pray?"

I am sick - chewed gum spit out and resting on the bottom of a shoe sick. I have a cold, slight fever and am nauseous.

The ironic thing is - I keep wanting to step on the scale and see if I lost any weight due to this unfortunate condition. I am not unaware of the naughtiness of this. Do you remember in "the Devil Wears Prada" where a very thin girl says - "I am just a stomach flu away from my goal weight" She seems so happy about it too, and I can relate.

I guess in times of weakness it is good to look for the silver lining - and yet I think it does make me reflect on my desire to be thin. Really the main motivator was to be healthy, and I knew that losing weight was the way to get there. My knees hurt, my back hurt, and in all of our family pictures I am sitting or lying on the couch watching others. I felt heavy, depressed, and tired.

Altering our body does not bring about true beauty. If you don't feel beautiful now, you aren't going to feel beautiful later when you reach your goal. I needed to be reminded that my main goal was not to fit into a size 4, but to develop strength and character by identifying weaknesses and receiving help from the Lord. For months after I reached my goal weight I looked in the mirror and cringed, expecting to see my fat self. I didn't feel different, why should I expect to look different? I was under the impression that by losing weight I would be a new person - isn't that what Oprah keeps saying?

It is important for me to not associate being thin with being beautiful, Watching the General Relief Society Presidency speak a few weeks ago I saw beauty, and I am sure there were no implants, botox, fad diets and body parts being pulled, lifted, sucked out or otherwise altered. I was rolling through the channels and saw a show called "Real Housewives of Orange County" These women were the antithesis to the beautiful sisters who talked of hope, love, faith and our Savior Jesus Christ.If I look at my successes and failures as tests and trials, it is easier to be happy with the person I see in the mirror because true self worth is not built by the outside appearance but the inside character. I lost weight, but I am still the same person. If I was shallow before, no beauty treatments will ever make me deep.

Instead of dieting maybe we should say we are building character by learning self restraint, caring for our stewardship, discipline, and the miracles of prayer and receiving answers. The great side effect is that we shall find wisdom and great treasures of knowledge, even hidden treasures; and shall run and not be weary, walk and not faint." (D&C 89:20)

White Noise

I have a condition called tinitus. It means that there is a constant ringing in my ears. The only time I really notice it is at night when the whole house has gone to sleep and it is quiet. If I focus on the sound I can't sleep, and it makes me crazy. I have developed a coping mechanism. I turn on white noise. White noise distracts me from the sound, I can listen to the radio, a fan, my husband reading to me, or even his breathing as he sleeps. By doing this I am distracted and can fall asleep. I love white noise, I think I would be a tired grumpy mess without it.

I have another condition I call lazy eating machinitis. It means that I do not naturally desire to eat healthy or exercises. There is a constant yearning in my soul to eat everything even when I am not aware of it. Sometimes it can get so bad I see a pan of brownies, I stand by the pan of brownies, and then bam... the brownies are gone. During the times that this condition hits the hardest I used to give up, stuff my face, sleep in, get more depressed, eat more, lay on the couch more, etc. I would rather have tinitus.

When I decided to fight this illness I had to find "white noise" to get the constant suggestions my disease (lazy eating machinitus) impales me with. I put gum in the kitchen drawers, in my van and in my purse. Chewing gum is great white noise. During the week before my period I am hit hardest. The white noise for me then is to not grocery shop when I am hungry, or not grocery shop at all. For this you need a supportive friend or spouse, get them to pick up the necessities.

White noise can also include: taking a shower or bath when you would normally be watching tv with a bowl of ice cream screaming for your attention, Taking the kids to a park and having a picnic with portioned out meals for each of you, or watching tv in a room other than the one next to the kitchen. Prayer and scripture study are both wonderful ways to distract you from cravings as well.

One white noise success story just happened. For my anniversary I found on my table 16 beautifully written cards (one for each year of our marriage, one for the future) a dozen roses, fruity pebbles and a people magazine. This white noise came in response to the pleading I make when particularly ill, telling him that it is chocolate that makes me happy. I had to change my song. I came up with something else that makes me happy, and it is getting a magazine I can't justify buying for myself, and my favorite childrens cereal which is still better for me than a basket full of truffels.

I know I am not alone in fighting lazy eating machinitis. We cant forget it is a deadly disease. When it screams at you to stay in bed when the alarm goes off an extra hour early for a walk, Get a distraction, plug your ears and say "I can't hear you!", get a favoirte motivational song or a have your husband kick you out of bed.

This is a diesase that I will always have. I manage it now. It can be done. "Race for the Cure."

Celinda loves Mel

I have to use my real name and not my alias. Today is a special day. I can't say Calamity loves General Wolfe, it doesn't have the same feel.

15 years ago, the night of October 22, 1992 Mel called Celinda and sang "I'm getting married in the morning. He said he had always wanted to do that" October 23rd Mel married Celinda in the Seattle Temple. I am Celinda and am the girl Mel picked.

Mel, 16 years ago you found me on the fifth floor in the Library and tried to come up with an opener. You said "Hey, Celinda I was wondering if you had a calculator." Very unconventional, but a good line for an engineer and former math major (what were you doing without a calculator?) it was not too sexy, not too bold. Me being the psych major had no need or desire for one but I wanted to keep you around. I told you I had been meaning to buy one, and wouldn't you go with me to pick one out? You were tall, I loved your shoulders your green eyes, cute mushroom cut hair and wire rim spectacles. I was intrigued by your foreign accent and your tendency to spell random words with an e on the end - i.e. centre. I loved that you said the word Eh at the end of sentences and that you wore a fisherman sweater and timberland boots. I loved your kindness and your brain - Who else knows why the inside of a cars windows get wet when it is cold outside? My roommates had been talking about you for weeks and I was amazed that I was the one who got your pick up line. I loved sitting next to you in church and hear you sing the bass part, I loved your voice and loved to hear you speak. I loved feeling your arm muscle flex as you held the hymn book - did you do that on purpose because my hand was there? I loved that you took me to see Madam Butterfly and The Marriage of Figaro - the things I loved you loved too.

Remember when you told me you knew that I was the one you wanted to marry? You were wearing your charcoal wool jacket, tan pants and saddle oxfords. You looked so handsome with your striped shirt and green tie with the leaf print. My heart beat out of control. I remember taking it to the temple and getting an answer - Yes! I had the go ahead to follow this dream! When you finally proposed to me (with the ring I had hurried and put a deposit on while you were away - I didn't want to take any chances) I screamed and kept jumping up and down. I couldn't contain myself. I loved the way my life was turning out. I hadn't ever been so excited and happy. When I bought that grey solar calculator on the bottom floor of the BYU bookstore I could have never guessed it would be the best purchase of my life.

Today I tried posting our song "Unforgettable, the song we listened to while studying in the LRC, but it took me over an hour to fail, and you kept coming in asking me what I was doing, so I gave up. I tried to scan a wedding picture, but you always do that, enabling my complete computer dorkiness. So Mel, sing our song in your head and picture our day and know I love you. You have made my life better, more full, more delicious, more fun. You are my knight and I am forever your petunia, thanks for the dance.

"Be Of Good Cheer"

I weigh myself every morning right before getting in the shower. When I was in the thick of trying to lose weight, there were mornings that I stepped on the scale and didn't get any thinner, or even went up in weight. It devastated me. My natural reaction was to first be depressed and fatalistic, then gradually move to unrealistic. I made big plans while washing my hair. It went like this:

"Oh no! This is terrible, I am never going to get past this stage. I am always going to be fat. Stupid fat, stupid me, why did I eat that cake yesterday?"
Then:
"I know - I just won't eat anything today - that will get me back to where I want to be...Great idea..."

The next step I would sabotage my dumb plan, like this:
"O.K., no breakfast, no big deal" then a bit later "I didn't eat anything, just this muffin won't hurt, oh, so good, maybe just one more, they're small, and then I won't eat anything else." Later I would think "It's bad to not eat a whole day, I should have lunch" and then justify a rather large enchilada with cheese, salad, & veggies.

By three I would completely forget all about my plans made in the shower, and eat the cookies dunked in milk alongside with my kids (fellowship - solidarity). By dinner I would feel guilty and eat extra to quiet my inner voice. Dessert? I blew it anyway, I might as well give up and start tomorrow... Then the whole thing starts again.

Jorge Cruise has a book called "8 Minutes In The Morning". His main idea is that by eating healthy and doing weight resistance you can lose up to 2 pounds a week. I used some of his ideas when I was in the thick of things. He addresses the problem I just talked about by using the example of Forrest Gump using what he calls "Result-Driven Questions". He says"

"Instead of asking himself, 'Why am I disabled' 'What's wrong with my legs?' or 'Why am I slower than all the other kids?' he asks questions such as, 'Why did God make me so special?' or 'Why am I so lucky to have these magic shoes?' or 'How do miracles happen everyday?"
By asking Result-Driven Questions, you are actually unable to focus on things that make you depressed or unmotivated. You have no option but to see things in a way that empowers you.
If you ask negatively driven questions such as "Why is it so difficult for me to lose weight?' or 'Why can't I lose weight?' or "What's my problem?' your answers will reveal all of the reasons why you can't lose the weight and will make you feel worse. Using RDQ's will give you the power to direct what you see and hear; they direct your emotions toward the results you want. You need to read and think about RDQ's each and every day.
Examples of this are: "What joy will I feel when I attain my ultimate body?
"How incredible will my life become when I am leaner?" "What extraordinary things will people say to me when I am leaner?" "What can I do today so that my weight loss plans run smoothly?" "How can I continue to create a weight loss support network?"

To this day I have a tendency to ask myself negative questions. I like writing this blog because I am reminding myself of something important. Tomorrow, If I don't like what I see because of weekend overindulging I am going to say, (in an optimistic voice) "well CJ, I am thinner than I was 2 years ago, I really did some good things and am well on my way to making this a lifestyle. I have succeeded in harder things than this, and I have God in my corner."

"...be of good cheer, little children; for I am in your midst, and I have not forsaken you...Pray always that you enter not into temptation..."D&C 61:36,39

I Love to Eat with Friends

Calamity Jane has asked me to share my thoughts on how I love to eat. Because I really do!

My family loved to eat. In the summer we had piles of food at dinner (farm talk for what we eat at noon), and delicious suppers at night to keep us fueled for the hard work we had to do. We ate our beef through the winter along side our winter squash.

My dad would sit at the table and I would sit with him. We would talk. Eating was a joint experience that our family partook in - it was a communal and bonding experience.

One day, I became and engineer and began working for a German company, remotely located in Seattle. I loved going to Munich and driving really fast on the Autobahn; but even more, I loved the eating attitude of my European friends.

I can remember the first time we entertained some clients in Seattle.

We sat down to eat at the Metropolitan Grill, hosting a variety of aerospace bigwigs, and my German boss began to talk. Sooner or later we had a small plate of something delicious come buy. I just had a bite. Yum. We talked more and enjoyed the evening. Then we had a small salad or soup. Then we talked more. We all ordered something, I had a delicious Fillet Mignon, which we ate at our leisure. By the time we went home 4 hours had transpired and we all had smiles on our faces.

I liked the food and we all enjoyed ourselves. Food must not be the enemy.

D&C 89:10,11 And again, verily I say unto you, all wholesome herbs God hath ordained for the constitution, nature, and use of man - Every herb in the season thereof, and every fruit in the season thereof; all these to be used with prudence and thanksgiving.

I think if you can stop, laugh, talk and enjoy the food with all the yummy herbs and spices that the Lord has given us and give Him thanks - He will be glad and so will we.

Diet Diet No Diet FUNNY

Oh how real this feels sometimes!

Finding Holiness

I am grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ. I know that in him I can do all things that are necessary to be a good mother. But sometimes it is hard to put that knowledge into practice.

As I look around my house I feel depressed, it is cold and rainy outside, there are smudges on walls, laundry spilling out of every hamper, and pee behind every toilet (I just can't seem to impress upon my four year old the importance of aiming.) I am ready to curl up in a nice warm spot with a good book, and a gallon of chocolate ice cream (good thing I stopped buying it). These are the days that make me fat.

I am grateful for good women who teach me. One talk during the 1996 women's conference sticks with me. Mary B. Kirk gave a talk called "Finding Holiness in Everyday Life. It was and is life changing. She says:

"If I want to understand and know the Savior, I have to say to him, "Come unto me. Visit me in my house, in my space on earth." And if he would come and be right there close by me, I could say, "Lord, what wouldst thou have me do?" I have a good imagination, so I can see the Savior coming up the steps with the faulty rail, standing on my porch, and gently knocking on my door, wanting to come in and bring some peace and joy to my whirlwind. .."

She then goes on to explain what she would show the Savior...She takes him from room to room, pointing out messes that symbolize children learning, family meals, and projects in which God given tallents are used.

"Come see my laundry room. See all these clothes? I know that many people need these worse than we do....the laundry pile can be discouraging at times.I'm so grateful to have hot, running water. That is the thing I am most grateful for...besides the Atonement...I know a lot of my brothers and sisters on earth don't have hot, running water - or even water. Today there are more clothes clean and folded than dirty and unsorted. When I work in here I can see work clothes and school clothes and play clothes and church clothes. Looking at these clothes I can see Jim hard at work to provide for us. I see one of my sons sitting on the deacons bench, getting ready to serve the sacrament. I see my other son running track in the rain and the mud. It's right there in the laundry room. I can see them. And I can see my girls playing dress-ups, pretending to be mommies and dancers and doctors and teachers and all those wonderful things. Imagining and dreaming..."

In Mosiah 18:12 Alma says, "Oh Lord, pour out thy spirit upon thy servant, that he may do this work with holiness of heart."
Instead of asking a bowl of ice cream to help and comfort, I need to ask the Lord.

"He'll sprinkle holiness into today, and we will find it. He will pour out his holiness upon us at the rate that we open our eyes and perceive, open our ears and understand, and open our hearts and invite him in" Mary B. Kirk

Dear Amy...

Dear Amy, I like you, I like that you ran for two minutes. I like it a lot. I hope that your comment yesterday about running "two whole minutes" meant "hooray, two minutes more than I did yesterday!!" instead of "well, dang, I wasn't able to run a 5K today."

When we first moved into our new house the yard was empty. We had obnoxious neighbors and a short fence. We bought some rather weak excuses for trees but we planted them with the hope that one day our neighbors would be erased from our view.

It worked. 5 years later my neighbor can no longer stick his head over our fence and offer gardening, parenting, home owning advise. The 5 years pass whether or not you decide to do any changing or not. Might as well not worry about how long it will take.

Plant it and it will grow. Your two minutes will grow to four, then eight, then ten, then bam you are running a freaking 5k.

You go girl - hooray for you! I couldn't be more proud of you if I was your mother, (I'm practically old enough ... well, maybe your babysitter)

Just Don't Do It

I hope I am not reaching you too late.

You know who you are. You are the ladies who look forward to Halloween more than the children. Any excuse for treats is a good excuse, you know what I mean...

"Oooh, I know children love Almond Joy's, I need to get the king size bag." Or "Reeses Peanut Butter Cups? Need to stock up on those, the little hooligans might egg my house if I don't give them chocolate". "No one likes a house without chocolate bars."

We are all guilty. I know because I use every reason I can to buy "fun-size" chocolate bars. I like fun, I like chocolate, we match. It doesn't help any when they are everywhere, the drug store, the grocery store, Target, Wallmart, Costco. Every day, sometimes twice a day I am faced with the spontaneous desire to stock up on candy bars. This urge is much stronger and for some reason makes more sense than the urge to buy wheat for a years supply.

We aren't fooling anyone, most kids would rather eat a bag of sour patch kids over Twix. It is strange, but give them the choice between chocolate bars or jaw breakers they will go for the potentially dangerous jaw breaker, they live life on the edge. They are odd. It is a definite generation gap. They do not have the consuming need or desire for chocolate, your desire to buy it is for you, not your neighbors kids you don't even like. I in fact find that I save the good stuff for me and give the obnoxious neighbors the bottle caps and tootsie rolls.

Don't do it, do not buy candy you like, if you grab it and put it in your cart - stop - throw it out right there in the aisle with a dramatic toss and a banshee scream. Buy a bag of dum dums. If you already have the stuff in your house it is time to make gift bags for the ladies you visit teach (the skinny ones, let them deal with it) and deliver it right away. Donate it to the Bishop for his candy jar - that is an expensive thing to keep full. Or, if it is a real emergency you can flush it.

You don't need to taste it, you already know it is yummy, you have tasted it before. It isn't like you are embarking on a new experience. (If however you have never had Tobolarone, by all means...) You aren't denying yourself the experience if you have already had it. "Been there, done that" is what you should say.

Treat it like Kryptonite, Poison, "Danger Will Robinson!" Alarms should sound. When you were a kid playing with magnets, didn't you try to see how close you could get them before they snapped together? Ultimately at the end of the experience they become one. We ladies and chocolate are like those magnets, get one king size bag of snickers and us on a bad day and SNAP! we are one. At about 3:00 I find myself hunting unconsciously for the spawn of Satan candy. If it is there and I am there, we always end up together. I would be fooling myself if I invited the stuff into my home and said he was just visiting the kids. NOT TRUE.

When I put my gloved hand into mud I do not say the mud got all glovey (I heard that somewhere and have been dying to use it) , When I put chocolate into my mouth I cannot say the chocolate got all Calamity, I get all chocolaty, I will reap what I sow, I will instantly put on weight (do you know you can gain 5 lbs in just one bad week? - experience teaches me that)

Don't fool yourself, don't do it, just say no - buy the sour skittles, they are nasty, just what kids love.

If Your Face is Ugly - Learn to Sing...part 2

Yesterday morning 5:15 a.m. I heard the rain. I groaned inwardly (I am not sure what that sounds like, but I have never heard anyone use the term "groaned outwardly") I live in the northwest and the rains have begun. Rain makes it harder to get out the door, and easier to justify staying in bed. Cold also makes a wonderful excuse, and I love a good excuse. The problem is that while excuses bring instant gratification in the short term, they aren't going to make your bottom any smaller.

I try hard to keep my "no excuses" policy and go out no matter what (although I do long for the nice warm gym.) It really helps to pray the night before for the desire and ability to go out. I am still not at the point where I jump out of bed excited to run, rain or shine, but I am working on it. I believe one day I will get there, I am trying to say to myself "if the weather is ugly, learn to sing - in the rain". Fake it till you make it baby.

So today for you today, my take on the saying is, "if you are cold from a rainy run, make soup."

Try this recipe: It is dark and spooky, perfect for halloween, delicious with a sour cream ghost on top! Have a great weekend.

Black and Brown Soup
(Black bean and brown rice)

6 cups black beans
4 cups beef broth
1 1/2 cup cooked brown rice
1/4 cup olive oil
1 large onion chopped
4-6 cloves of garlic
1 1/2 tsp cumin
1 1/2 tsp oregano
2 tsp salt
2-3 Tbls red wine vinegar

Whirl 2 cups beans with 1 cup broth until smooth, set aside

In large pot, saute in 1/4 cup olive oil:
1 large onion chopped
4-6 cloves of minced garlic
add:
1 1/2 tsp cumin
1 1/2 tsp oregano
4 cups beef stock
4 cups black beans
1 1/2 cups cooked brown rice
add whirled beans and broth
4 cups black beans
1 1/2 cups cooked brown rice
2 tsp salt
2-3 Tbls red wine vinegar
cook, and serve with fat free sour cream.

Grandmas Carrot Cake

My mom made grandma Jingle Bells carrot cake last week. I found the last bit while cleaning out the fridge yesterday, I was left defenseless, I thought it was gone. I love this cake with its impossibly thick butter icing. I loved grandma Jingle Bells. What could I do??? I let go of restraint, I found myself during nap time (one does not have to share with sleeping children) in front of the TV with a plate of cake, (not a piece, but the remainder of the cake - quite a few pieces), a fork and a glass of milk. I was not hungry just nostalgic, I knew it was no good for me as I indulged, but she was my favorite grandma, I looked at this as a memorial service to her. More than just a few bites in I knew something "that felt so right was really so wrong" (I think that's a slow song) I knew I needed to stop, I was just helpless to resist. Bite by bite I reasoned it through...

Grandma is better remembered for her crinkly eyes, contagious giggle and smooth soft hands enveloping me in love. She called me twinkle toes, she was the best. What she is not is carrot cake. If I need a physical reminder I am going to have to settle for putting readers digests in my bathroom, pages marked in place with toilet paper. I got up and hurriedly turned the water in the sink and let the rest of the cake go into the disposal. It was hard, but my new boyfriend Mr. restraint promised me a present. I get to have a cup of peppermint tea with splenda to go with my favorite recorded show. Grandma loved Lawrence Welk, I have "Dancing With the Stars." ( I am a freaky Osmond groupie and fast forward every ones dances but Marie's and the race car drivers.) I hope I rid myself of the cake before it did too much damage.

Well, the tea wasn’t as good as the cake, but an hour later I couldn't remember either.

If your face is ugly learn to sing

I was once told that by a young elder while I was serving as a missionary in Lyman Wyoming. I described Lyman in my Journal this way. "Here is where I am serving now...(insert drawing of stick figure pointing to arm pit)". Yea I said it, and I am not proud I said it. I will admit that my feelings were more based on homesickness for my wet, green western Washington than reality. I was young and not quite ready to realize the beauty in all things.

So, I was humbled by this Elder from Tonga. If he ever had reason to experience bad attitude it would be from experiencing his first winter in Rock Springs. Learning to sing when life placed challenges in his path was shown by his example of the pure fun and joy he exuded.

I threw myself into the work, I learned to work hard, and laugh. Every night I came home tired. At night I pleaded with the Lord to help me to want to wake up the next morning, I could never imagine I would be able to recover after feeling complete exhaustion. Yet every morning I woke feeling refreshed and excited (a miracle).

After 5 months in Wyoming I was ready to invest in a pair of ropers, some wranglers ("wrangler butts drive me nuts"), western shirts and a "rig" (cowboy talk for large truck), I made dear friends who I always think of at Christmas time when I get out the ornaments they made for me. I cried when I was transferred. I was transformed. I now love Wyoming! I love the high dessert, I love the smell of sage. I love that it snowed on the first of July. I love the ghost towns, the way people talk and the friendliness of small towns.

Dieting can be ugly. Giving up old eating habits caused a real period of mourning for me. I am not being dramatic. I felt depressed and sad that I had to change something that I loved. Eating brought me joy, a bright spot during the mundane tasks inherent in motherhood. I honestly looked forward to Relief Society Enrichment nights because of the food it came with. It really seemed like I was in love with the wrong guy and someone was making me give him up. I loved him but he was no good for me. So, I broke up with Mr. bad eating. I mourned, I moped, I felt sorry for myself. I even tried getting back together with this former flame, but he left me feeling bloated, uncomfortable and guilty.

Learning to sing in the face of ugly now means learning to enjoy a new kind of life. It includes prayer and many nights of learning, reading, studying, and hard work. I have to learn to laugh in the face of an eclair. I have to learn to stay on the opposite side of the room when a buffet calls.

There is a reason that the proverbial Fat lady sings - she just had a whole Oreo cookie pie and feels wonderful, but when she got home she found out that she has a headache from too much sugar and the new jeans she just bought don't fit anymore. The skinny lady sings too, she learned to substitute applesauce for oil in baking, she uses fat free pudding instead of frosting on cake, she says no to seconds and carefully plans ahead every meal of the day. She is singing because she just went to the store and found out she could kiss Lane Bryant goodbye, .

Do I miss eating with reckless abandon? I say that I do, but really I have learned a different way to enjoy food. I enjoy it just as much, I just enjoy less of it, which I then enjoy for longer. I was shocked to find myself loving Wyoming, I am shocked to find that eating better is possible and enjoyable. I have finished my mourning period, I am done moping, life is still fun, life is still full. I love my new life, I love my new boyfriend. (proverbial boyfriend Mel, I love you best.)

What I Do

I love to blog, it sounds so much like I feel. Blah, blah, blah, blog. I am having a hard time finding time though, it is not like I am out of control running around, I can chose the things I want to do. It is just that I am such a dang perfectionist. It takes me 2 hours from conception to post. I think, think, write, erase, write, erase, post, walk around, think about what I said, realize most of it was stupid, erase, edit, I am a mess, but even worse, my kids hate it. I am getting the looks I am used to giving. I am going to go easy for awhile, try to loosen up, be less anal, I won't care about spelling and grammar so much if it is ok with you. So here is my random fat thought of today:

This morning when my alarm went off I was so mad. I mormon sweared "#@**&#@!!!" (saying the symbols instead of the actual words). I hate alarm clocks" I wanted to kick my husband. I refrained and said instead (sarcasm dripping off of my resentful voice) - "I wish I was you" His sleepy, happy, warm, cozy innocent reply smothered a bit by fluffy soft pillows, was "I don't understand why you aren't staying in bed either" and he went back to sleep.

I grumbled out the door, I grumbled and shivered some more and in this sour Monday mood I then asked why on earth skinny people do this on purpose. I thought of Bob, the trainer on biggest loser, I thought of the skinny people who read this blog. I ask myself - "why would someone the size of my pinky waste their time when they could be in a bakery???" "Why are there so many skinnies running around in my parade - they don't have to do this - why aren't they in bed? They really should be in bed, bed is wonderful." "I know why I have to run, but if I was naturally skinny I would never never never be out here."

Then came the aha. They are skinny because they are out here. They study and read and work out because they want to stay skinny. There are so many skinny people at the gym because they got that way being there. There are no naturally skinny people, just as there are no naturally fat people. We are what we chose to do.

That remarkable revelation came when I was about half way through my run. My attitude changed. I am out here because I want to be here. I don't love to run, but I do love to zip up my jeans and not "suck it in." I just taught my son how to do a flip on the trampoline. I did flip after flip, I loved the feeling of being able to fly again. I love being healthy.

Tomorrow I will not love to hear the alarm, I will grumble and debate the reasons my subconscious has for me that day to stay in bed, but I will go, I will breathe fresh air, I will feel a sense of accomplishment, I will teach my children, I will run, because that is what I choose to do.

p.s. That post took only 38 minutes. "Every day in every way I am getting better and better..." (annoying random quote I was forced to repeat millions of times at a high school leadership camp)

Just Because Things are So....

I always have a hard time hearing about my husbands mission. He served in Venezuela. His pictures show him a young man, 6'3 and 170 lbs. He looks emaciated and noble, if his head was shaved and he was draped in white he could be a dead ringer for Gandhi. That is the spirit of sacrifice. One who is willing to go to a third world country and be served rice with bugs, black beans and soup containing chickens feet. Its obvious to me he was a good missionary because he really suffered...

When my papers went in I dreamed of a third world country. I longed for a parasite that I would then have to battle for the rest of my life, leaving me a beautiful thin woman suffering valiantly, "persecuted for the Lord". My wispy hair spread out on a chaise lounge while holding the scriptures to my heaving breast. "I only want to serve the Lord" I say in a weak voice overcome by the fatigue born by constant service.

I ended up in Utah, fat and happy, driving a red Chevy. I really loved my mission. It was a joy. 80% of the people loved us, and everyone fed us. Now just think, when you feed the missionaries don't you always feed them your best? Doesn't that include dessert - even in the middle of the week? Eating at members homes every night and every night after the best meal the family could prepare we were brought brought out cake, or pie, or ice cream. I wasn't raised to say no to such fare, and so not wanting to be rude and completely addicted to sugar, I indulged. One members home, I remember, didn't serve dessert. I was shocked, and kept waiting for the best course to come. When it didn't, I didn't think I could say "thanks for the meal" because I didn't consider it done. When I came home the family couldn't kill the fatted calf to celebrate because I was the fatted calf. The word "deseret" describes Utah as the "land of milk and honey" and is close to dessert, I think the two words should be interchangeable.

Returning home I greeted every meal with delight, which led to gradual disappointment. Why wasn't I served? More importantly, why wasn't I served dessert? What is this? Was this the hard transiton that I had always been warned returned missionaries experience? That girl had some changing to do if she was going to return to pre-mission weight.

Just because things are so, doesn't mean they are right, and a habit is hard to break. One example for me has always been the bowl of cereal in the morning. I have always eaten a bowl and then poured another - (fruity pebbles I could eat the whole box) One day the thought occurred to me that maybe I should be content with one serving seeing that I am really just one person, and would like to look like one. Wow - was that ever a change. I have learned to be satisfied with my one bowl and eat it slowly to savor it. (I just stay away from the pebbles even Barney can't keep away from.)

If I double check my eating, I can always find other traditions that aren't grounded in good choices. I really need to make an effort to stop rewarding myself and others with edible treats. This week I congratulated my son for winning senate and said when we were driving to scouts, "I am going to buy you a huge bag of M&M's" I caught myself and told Zac about how food isn't supposed to be a reward. He said, "I'd rather have gum anyway mom."

Getting healthy isn't about making one huge good decision it is hundreds of daily good decisions, It is about examining traditions, changing the bad ones and creating better ones.

Have a wonderful weekend and enjoy conference! Keep a pen and pad of paper in your hand instead of treats, because watching conference can be the best reason to eat and eat and eat while watching tv. (a previous tradition for me!)

the cupcake

Watching biggest loser really made me want to scream. The trainers were asked to eat a cupcake with butter icing in order to give their team 15 minutes. They refused. The idiots.

I wanted to scream at them, I rolled my eyes, and made big disgusted sighs come out my mouth to the tv. I now know why I am not a trainer. I am just not that hard core. I kept thinking about wonderful ways to justify the cupcake, "you workout every day of your life" "what would a cupcake hurt?" "look at your people, they would love to eat the cupcake vicariously through you!" "eat the dang cupcake you skinny piece of white trash - who do you think you are? You can and yet you wont!" !

I pondered, I debated, I walked the floor, I figured it out, oh, the EXAMPLE thing, Bob said he had a cupcake last month, well, he qualified it to half of the cupcake, but he was trying to show people that temptations are passable, and that there is another way around them and even a little sin can lead to sabotage on the real goal.

I have been especially good at following my advise lately. The bag of chocolate kisses I had lying around last week - I hid. I hid them so good that when it was pms time I found myself ripping my kitchen apart frantically looking for a 5 minute chocolate peace buzz. I guess that is one of the good things about my advancing age, I can hide treats from myself and succeed. I had to laugh at the pathetic picture I was painting as a 39 year old pre menstrual mom searching for a bag of kisses. I gave up and had some hot chocolate instead.

The point is, the temptation was there, but my strategy worked, I out foxed myself. Hooray! I think that if I was the trainer I would have had to heavily salt and ruin the cupcake immediately. Even the garbage can would not have been a safe place to hide the luscious morsel when no one was looking. That is my season now, I am trickier than before, I can obsess about something tasty lying around, then I seek it out and destroy it by consumption. The secret for me to safe is to use the times I feel strong to protect the times I feel weak. I cannot ensure the safety of those kisses the day I find them. I just pray it is not 28 days from last Tuesday.

Doing the Best

Another season I think is hard is the season when I feel stuck at home, it makes me fat. I get this feeling sometimes when I have sick kids, toddlers, babies, and of course lack of funds (If I don't go to the store, I won't spend money!) I get bored, I get tired, and complacent in the mundane tasks of motherhood. My hubby always comes home from work telling me the comments coming from the women he works with: "I could never stay home it would make me crazy!", or "I would get so bored!" I want to look at them with a bland face and say "your point is.....???"

Bored for a mother, or maybe it is just me, means that I have plenty to do, It just doesn't really seem pressing, and I don't want to do it. I know that my toilets could use scrubbing, my windows washing, I know I could be making cookies for my children and that my van could use a good mucking out, but.... if they don't get done....well, no big deal, the family will still function and if I mop now it will need another mopping tomorrow. I think to myself my children are no judge or jury, I think I will take today off and read, or watch my recorded shows, or be on the computer all day, and eat to my hearts content. There is no supervisor, no one to be really accountable to, just me and I get to do anything I want. I usually don't want to clean, I usually want to read, and eat.

Lets say however I am going to host book club, or have a baby shower, or invite complete strangers into my home. Then I am frantic, I storm from room to room cleaning like a mad woman, shouting orders, and spewing cleaning supplies all over the house.

I just found this entry which puts this horrible habit into perspective, which I need to remember once again: It is dated April 18th 2006

"I just woke up from a horrible dream. I had 2 little boys to take care of. One was Ethan my neighbors son 9 years old, the other Bruce, my 3 year old. We were by a flooded stream or river and I had to float the boys to safety. Ethans mother was really ill. I wanted to help her so I decided to take him first, even though he was much older. They were on a raft made of logslocked in place by an anchor. I rescued Ethan but had to tell Bruce to not move from the raft. he looked so little and was crying as I left him. I returned Ethan to his parents but it took longer than I had thought. I was sick thinking of what I had done, knowing that when I returned, Bruce might be gone, that I had left my son to be a hero to my neighbor. How could I have my priorities so skewed? Ethan was the older one, and could probably swim. He could have followed me while I saved my son. --Dream over.
Yesterday I spent the day making my house look nice for company I neglected my children in the worst ways. When Bruce cried I got angry, when he spit and hit Eliza I got angry. I can see how my son just needed me more than I needed to have a perfect house for my guests. I feel ashamed and humbled."

What does this have to do with weight loss? Well just this, when I don't have a schedule or a plan and I wing it I am left defenseless to my cravings. I am sure to do that which is most convenient to me. Please note, I am a mother of 5 and my time is claimed 85% of the time, so I justify taking it easy, too easy, when I get moments to myself. I know we aren't supposed to run faster than we have strength, but I barely crawl when I can get away with it.

As a missionary we were taught to plan every day out before we started. This way we wouldn't waste time and could be more productive. I always heard that a mission is a training ground for life, so applying the same principles are important. This is tricky when there are toddlers involved and we have to be realistic and flexible, but we do have to work, and do the best we can, not saying that as a call to justify, but a call to work. I find when I ask myself if I can do better, I usually can. I really shouldn't have time to watch tv during the day. "I have work enough to do, ere the sun goes down" (LDS Hymn #224)

I loved the Relief Society Broadcast, each speaker mentioned service, charity, and good works. One sister invited us to pray every morning "who can I help today?" Being anxiously engaged in good works leaves little time to sit, watch tv and eat.

I am not perfect in this principle as yesterdays food/tv/computer/book binge would prove, but to those of you who like me, find day to day housework and chores mundane, boring, and unchallenging, please know today I am trying harder, and will be better. I really think that if I can get my head around the fact that my home is a temple I would work harder to make it feel that way. I wouldn't feel stuck, but rather blessed to be anxiously engaged in a good work. I hear over and over that my home is a temple, especially to my children. That makes me a temple worker. As a temple worker, I have meaning, purpose and direction. Even cleaning the toilets in the temple is a service of love.

Holiness to the Lord.

"Because She is a Mother

Our family is running a campaign for senator. My son Zac's motto is "a vote for Zac is a vote for greater happiness and peace" (His idea) The pictures were done by my brilliant husband. While we were making these, I had an epiphany, I am no longer in the "young mother" division of motherhood. Don't pity me, I have been looking forward to being 40 for years, ask anyone.

The days where I was raising three little ones with a husband who worked lots of overtime, had a busy calling and was taking classes for work hopefully are over. One night during that time on the way home from swimming lessons I drove home to an all dark house. I knew what was in store for me, more of the same, grumpy tired kids out of the car, grumpy tired kids forced to eat, to get jammies on and into bed, and I would be doing it all alone – again. My patience level was blinking the red warning light and so I kept driving until I could face the night routine. One of my favorite hymns at that time was "Abide with Me Tis Eventide" It was hard to do everything alone without bathing my insides with ice cream, so I pleaded with the Lord to be with me. On the nights I remembered to do that He would be there, but like everything, that was the trick, remembering I had a resource in Him.


It was during this young mother stage that I heard a talk that changed my attitude and I was so grateful, click here to read Elder Hollands talk entitled ""Because She Is a Mother" If you are a young mother, God bless you! If you are done with that, He already did - so pass on the wisdom.


I am off to laminate campaign buttons, have a great day.