Clean eating: for the birds?

I know I should eat healthy food. Really, I do. I doubt Paul had diet and exercise in mind when he wrote to the Romans about doing what he didn't want to do and not doing what he did want to do, but I sure could apply those verses to this situation.

It's not even that I don't like to eat healthy food. I just don't like preparing said healthy food. Plus, I hate cleaning all the extra dishes required to prepare the food. Then there's having to go to the grocery store more often to buy the fresh food.

While I would love to lose some weight, that's not really why I'm thinking about this subject. I need to eat better according to my doctor. Apparently chocolate bars and potato chips should not be mainstays of a balanced diet, and folding laundry does not count as exercise. Rats.

About a month ago, I got some thyroid blood test results back. (I've had hypothyroidism for about nine years now.) Unbeknownst to me, my doctor had also requested some vials to check my cholesterol and sugar levels. Doctors are sneaky like that. In addition to my thyroid levels being unsatisfactory, the other two were not so great either. Like, you need to make some major changes now, not so great. It's not wonderful to hear words like heart attack, stroke, and pre-diabetic. This junk just got real.

I've always known that I should be health conscious, but it was more of a back burner topic in my mind. Even when I did make it a priority, somehow I always managed to make excuses and eventually end up right back where I started. I just kept pushing it off, not always consciously, thinking I'd get serious about it someday. Well, someday is now today.

The verse that jumps out to me concerning this subject is I Corinthians 6:12.

All things are lawful for me, but not all things are profitable. All things are lawful for me, but I will not be mastered by anything. 

There's a fine line between enjoying our freedom and abusing it, and I think I crossed that line. Just being honest. It seems such a silly thing for food to be one's master, but I guess you could say that about any addiction. For the sake of my children, for the sake of my own health, and for the sake of bringing honor to a God who can break every chain, I am committed to making a change in this area.

My main reason for telling you all this is pretty selfish. I just need accountability. I need to tell others that I'm making this commitment so they can judge me when they see me eating a Big Mac. OK, maybe that's not exactly what I have in mind, but the point is that I work harder on my goals when I know that others might ask me about them. Maybe that's wrong, and it's just the people pleaser in me, but God says some pretty awesome things about believers holding each other accountable and bearing each other's burdens. Woe to him who falls and doesn't have anyone to help him up- that sort of thing.

My secondary reason is pretty consistent with why I write this blog at all. I want to encourage anyone else who is facing a similar battle. Addictions are nasty little buggers. They take our time and attention and hack away at our self-control. They're a pretty effective weapon used by the old prowling lion himself. If you struggle with a food addiction, or any addiction at all, I encourage you to seek some accountability as well.

To get the ball rolling for my diet accountability, I participated in a clean eating challenge. The point of the group wasn't to lose weight or count calories, but rather to learn how to really nourish our bodies. Clean eating is getting to be a pretty popular catchphrase, but it really just means eating food the way God created it. Goodbye preservatives and hello fresh!

The clean eating part only lasted five days, but the group actually kicked off five days beforehand. Our coaches posted motivational/instructional videos, menus, and helpful tips for making lasting lifestyle changes. I personally found one of the most helpful tips to be shopping for organic and health foods at Big Lots, because the expense of all this healthy eating has always been one of my favorite excuses. I found so much good stuff there (like organic quinoa mac and cheese), and I say three cheers for convenience.

Honestly, I dreaded the challenge, which is exactly why I needed it. I find comfort in food, and sometimes I feel like I can't function without it. It's a vicious cycle, because I also can't function properly with it. I get easily overwhelmed, can't focus, and I lack the energy to be the mom I've been called to be. So even while loathing the upcoming modifications to my diet and my schedule, it comes down to the matter of accountability again, which I know I need to make a real change.

I mostly made it through without cheating. I failed to adequately prepare for our road trip one day, which resulted in the partaking of some drive-thru goodness junk. I won't pretend like I enjoyed the challenge. There were some pretty unpleasant withdrawal symptoms. On the third day, I had the worst migraine I've ever had, came super close to vomiting, and eventually just locked myself in a dark bedroom for several hours when my husband came home. A nap, healthy snack, and a large dose of Advil brought me back to the land of the living. The cravings for junk didn't stop after that, but at least the effects of withdrawal seemed to dissipate.

I also won't pretend that I've been eating completely clean in the weeks following, because I have not done as well since the challenge ended. However, I haven't completely reverted to my former ways either. To keep the accountability ball rolling, I joined a fitness and health community called Nourish 927. This group is led by Danielle, one of the leaders of my original clean eating challenge.

The page that I've linked to here is the general community, but there is also the option to take things one step further and participate in the accountability group within this group, which is what I'm doing. Every single day, Danielle asks us about our food choices. Daily participation is obviously optional, but I've made it my goal to post all my choices each and every day. Slippery slope argument or not, I know I'll gradually stop altogether if I start skipping.

I cannot tell you how much this group has helped already. I'm not going to keep grabbing handfuls of Cheez-Its or chocolate chips all day long if I know I'm going to have to admit that I did so. I am absolutely not perfect, but I'm making small changes. Gaining consistency in just one choice at a time gives me encouragement to continue the fight, and that's a big deal for me. I have a tendency to give up when I blow it for a day, but Danielle has promised to not give up on me. 

Speaking of Danielle, she is living proof that genuine, lasting changes can be made. She would be the first to tell you that this has healthy diet and fitness commitment has not always been part of her own life. Frustrated by her own health challenges and not wanting to pass along poor habits to her own kids, she and her husband completely overhauled their lifestyle choices. The changes they saw in themselves prompted them to share their story and encourage others to make health a priority as well, hence the establishment of Nourish 927. Just seeing her consistent, motivational posts gives me the hope that I can get there someday as well.

If you are interested in joining this community, it's open to anyone. Danielle is always happy to answer questions and give helpful tips. I know because I keep pestering her with mine!

I know this is still going to be a long and difficult journey. Heck, I haven't even started the exercise part yet. I'm working on it. (And by working on it, I mean daydreaming about my bike sitting in the garage.) A wise man named Bob Wiley once spoke of baby steps, so I'm going to take his advice.

For now, I've taken some before pictures. Some day I'll post them with the afters. I have hope that this can be done, and hope does not disappoint. 

God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us. Eph. 3:20 (The Message)

Mother's Day 2015

What day is today? 
Today is Mother's Day!
What day is today?
Today is Mother's Day!

Lots of cool points in my book if you know what old TV show that little ditty is from. (Jesse has the twins sing it to Becky on Full House.) And yes, I am aware that it's the week after Mother's Day. I'm a little behind thanks to last week being so hectic, which I'll talk more about in my next post. (I'm sure you're all dying to know.)

I. Love. Mother's Day. 

It's such a fantastic excuse to sit around and do nothing. Isaiah cooks and "cleans" and takes care of all of the kiddos' needs. This Mother's Day, I milked it even more than usual. (Massages from two different kids= win.) 

It kind of got off to a slow start. No breakfast in bed, and Isaiah had already warned me the night before that my present hadn't arrived. I was the first to wake up, so I was lying in bed trying to come up with a witty facebook status first thing in the morning. 

Strike 1: No breakfast in bed.
Strike 2: Present didn't come in the mail. 
3 strikes and you're out, Isaiah Garrett!

Something like that. I was just joking, lest you think I need to go back and take my own advice from my pessimism post. I'd actually rather not eat breakfast in bed, and I'm just pleased he put enough thought into the gift to order it online and not run to Walmart the night before. At any rate, my attention shifted when my little man woke up and wandered into our bedroom. He climbed up and snuggled up next to me, sucking his little bink and twirling my hair. (He likes to do that. <3) 


My girls came in shortly thereafter. They gave a three count and said a giggly "Happy Mother's Day!" together. And of course I got more snuggles. My favorite. They convinced little man to wish me "Happy Mother's Day" as well, but it came out more like, "Happy Mugga Gay!" Even cuter. I got to hear it again when Isaiah was also wished a "Happy Mugga Gay."

That pessimistic almost ten-year-old of mine presented me with a booklet containing the top ten reasons why he loves me. I couldn't help but give a rather boisterous laugh when he informed me of the booklet's back story. "We had to make this. Apparently it was for a grade."

Regardless, he really wrote some sweet things in his book. Number five read, "I love my mom because she is pretty. I like her glasses and short hair. She is also pretty on the inside." He briefly interrupted after I finished reading that one with the clarification, "I couldn't think of anything else to write." Just stop talking, son! :) 

My Boo Boo then took her turn to present her card and gifts to me. She had used her AWANA bucks to get me a pretty cup on store night, and she made a "credit card" with potential purchases including a hug, a massage, and a day of no fighting with her brother. Notice how the cup is blue, my favorite color. She was SO proud of all her gifts, and I gushed over them. She even got her "mom questions" right on the card. Well, not so much the stray kitten one, but I'm especially impressed that she knew to pick New York or Paris as my destination of choice. She is one observant and thoughtful little sweetheart! Isaiah said she had been counting down the days until Mother's Day, which is adorable. 

Just after that, Isaiah discovered that my present had arrived after all, though it was a wee bit damp from spending the night outside. No matter. The kids were just as excited as I was, especially my little man. I'm pretty sure he thought it was for him, as is his usual response to any gift in his vicinity. He helped me tear the box open, but he quickly lost interest when he saw the gift- a lap desk. A week beforehand, I stumbled across a previous google search which read "good gift for a writer," so I knew it was going to be something good. I love practical gifts (no sarcasm intended), and I am currently using said lap desk. 

And of course, what Mother's Day morning is complete without a temper tantrum and a sibling fight? We navigated through the storms fairly quickly, though. I played the "not on Mother's Day" card effectively. 

We were just barely late, which is the equivalent of being on time for us. A bottled coffee and package of trail mix were waiting at the nursery check-in for moms, courtesy of our thoughtful nursery director. Outside the sanctuary, women were given another special treat. Yeah, those Lindt truffles didn't make it halfway through the service. Naturally, the kids made Mother's Day crafts for me during church. I don't always (fine, never) keep church papers, but these ones made the keep pile. I love it when my children are excited about what they made for me.

Isaiah let me choose lunch, and I opted for Chinese takeout. Not the best sesame chicken I've ever had, but we don't eat out often, so I still enjoyed not cooking. Isaiah even ordered enough for me to have my own carton, which is a rare treat indeed, though I still ended up sharing with my little moochers.

The afternoon was filled with a combination of relaxing with my kids on my bed, snuggling, a bit of writing, more snuggling, and playing a couple board games. Awwwww yeah. I lost spectacularly at Would You Rather, but I managed to take one round of Disney Apples to Apples. Even better was the fact that we made it through both games with only one complete meltdown. (From the kids, of course. I save my meltdowns for games of Risk with Isaiah.)

I'm pretty sure everyone's favorite part of game time wasn't actually related to the games. Little man ran into the room with no pants and proceeded to put on a little dance show. I'm not sure why naked butts are so amusing, but they always get my kids giggling. 

We followed up that fun time with the kids' least favorite part of the day. Isaiah made them each choose a room to clean. He always sets a timer for them to make a race out of it. Sometimes it's effective, and sometimes it results in much wailing and gnashing of teeth. 

The final game of the day was hide and seek, which is a family favorite. Unfortunately, little man kept following me around, and he always wants to share hiding spots. I'm too competitive to hide with that loudmouth, so I kept trying to ditch him. I succeeded once, but only with enough time to jump in the closet and hide amongst the clothes. Such an amateur spot. 

Isaiah put the younger three kiddos to bed, after one final "Happy Mugga Gay!" and some hugs. (Of course he puts them to bed almost every night, simply because he is awesome.) After that I talked with my mom on the phone for a little while. Always a good thing. It's not the first time I haven't seen her on Mother's Day, but it stinks nonetheless. At least I get to see her in a few weeks! 

I concluded the evening with my favorite again- snuggles. The boy, as we refer to him affectionately (despite having another boy), has a later bedtime than the other three. We watched Family Feud on the couch together, which always gets us laughing. Steve Harvey is the man. 

All in all, it was a fantastic Mother's Day. Especially in comparison with my first Mother's Day, when poor Isaiah didn't know what a girl wants. What a girl needs. Whatever makes me happy... Oh, sorry. My song lyric Tourette syndrome takes over sometimes. 

Anyway, I'm so grateful for this special day. In addition to the relaxation and fun, for me it's a time of reflection on what it means to be a mom. Mothering is so much more difficult than I thought it would be, and I don't live up to the task like I thought I would. (I was such a better mom before I had kids. "I'm never going to..." Mmmhmmm.) I am not always patient and kind and gentle and consistent and organized. (Just ask my mother-in-law about that last one!) 

There are some areas of our home life that are thriving, some that need more consistency, and some that just need a complete overhaul. I think it's essential to identify these areas and make the necessary changes, even if they come slowly. Every day is a gift, and every day is a clean slate. 

God makes me capable. As long as I keep abiding in Him, I keep growing and learning. These kids are mine for a reason, and I trust the God who knit them together inside of me. The task often seems overwhelming, but He can give me the insane amount of wisdom this job requires. In the mean time, I'm going to do my best to enjoy the ride. (And did I mention the snuggles?)

Age order starts at the top right and moves counter-clockwise. Clearly I didn't think through my placement.

 

The Pessimist Mom

I used to be super pessimistic, but I'd like to think I'm more of a healthy realist these days. According to an online quiz I am. 

Realist

You don`t let things get you too down, or too up. You`re an Even Steven and you stay away from extremes.

Booyah. That settles it, right? Unfortunately, the next test pegged me as a downer.

Your total is 61. You qualify as a defensive pessimist in my studies.

Well, rats. On the upside, that second quiz was more academic, and they had this to say about defensive pessimism. 

Though it sounds as if it might be depressing, defensive pessimism actually helps anxious people focus away from their emotions so that they can plan and act effectively.

Look at me talking about upsides. I can't be a total pessimist after all. It's a positive thing when I take my focus off my emotions so I can plan effectively and all that jazz that he said.

I started thinking about all this because our pastor mentioned pessimism in his sermon this week. He said that as a general rule, pessimists are typically not highly successful people. 

As per my usual habit, I have put a great deal of time into over-thinking this statement. See, I honestly can't help it that I'm a natural-born pessimist. I score a hands-down melancholy on every temperament test I ever take. Basically, I'm Eeyore. And so, I was curious to know if I am indeed forever doomed to a life of mediocrity. 

Fortunately, there actually are some pretty famous pessimists, especially in the artistic fields. Beethoven, Hillary Clinton, Vincent van Gogh, and Bill Gates all fall into the melancholy category. After a bit of research, I came to the conclusion that neither optimism nor pessimism seem to be the key to success in and of themselves. I think it has more to do with how you handle your God-given temperament. 

If you're too positive, it helps to be friends with a Debbie Downer. They'll be sure to point out the flaws you're overlooking. If you're too negative, a good friend might be a Positive Paula. (Hey, I had to have something comparable to Debbie Downer, and apparently alliteration is only used to criticize.) They will encourage you not to give up just because something isn't going your way.

At any rate, I'm just glad that I am not predestined to a life of failure. In my pastor's defense, he was referring to those pessimists who don't fight their natural inclinations and allow negative thinking to rule their lives.

I'm not entirely certain about this, but I think my first-born son is the melancholy type as well. He is introspective, moody, sensitive, and quick to point out the negative. He gets discouraged easily, complains often, and gives up unnecessarily. Poor guy seems to have a double portion of my pessimism. 

He started in on one of his tirades after church on Sunday, and I gave him a hard time about what our pastor said. (It is so hard to be patient when he's complaining about petty issues.) He proceeded to get even angrier and walk off in a huff. I responded with a sarcastic comment of some sort. Not one of my better parenting moments. I probably should take the beam out of my eye. 

How often do I say to myself, "Why do I even bother?" Those five words are like pessimism in a nutshell. 

Here are some subjects that currently evoke that phrase in my life: keeping up with the housework, asking my kids to stop yelling "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!", expecting my kids to do their chores without being told, seeking just a half hour of complete silence, traveling anywhere at all without the kids arguing, and encouraging my husband to talk about feelings with me.

Ironically, one of the subjects I've been most pessimistic about lately is my son's attitude. I swear this almost ten-year-old acts like a true blue teenager. My once constantly sweet little man erupts at the slightest provocation. Once he loses control, he can't seem to gain it back without spending an hour alone to collect himself. He can be rude and condescending to his siblings and argues with Isaiah and I on a regular basis.

Told you I was feeling pessimistic, because I do not see any end to his behavior on the horizon. If anything, it continues to get worse. I have no doubt that our uprooting him twice in the past year has contributed to the problem, but I think it's more than that. I'm willing to bet that my own parenting is a large part of the problem, and that's not just my negativity talking.

Normally I like to write about subjects in which I'm at least putting up a good fight, even if I'm not victorious. But today, this Negative Nellie (told you) has no helpful tips. I'm not even exactly sure why I chose to write about it except that I've been trying hard to write about where I'm at, if that makes sense.

So here's where I'm at.

I know that I need to be more positive around my son, and the rest of my kids for that matter. My exasperated sighs, constant verbalizations of how messy the house is, eye rolls when they complain about something ridiculous, and rudely sarcastic responses to their faulty logic need one big giant nip in the bud. I know I won't ever be perfect, but I also know God can help me have victory here. (There's that realist shining through.)

Not only do I need to stop those habits, but I need to replace them with better choices. I need to compliment my kids' positives daily, speak firmly but patiently, use humor to diffuse all of our tempers, and point out all the beauty in this world God created. They need to know that I'm not just a Whiny Wendy. (That one was for you, Mom.) Seriously, though, I don't want their most pervasive childhood memory of me to be my criticism of them. 

I also need to take the time to find out what's going on in their little minds. Each of my kids needs my attention, discipline, and affection in different ways, and it's my job to find out what those ways are and keep up with how they're changing as they grow.

I feel like I used to be pretty good at some of those things, and I'm not sure what happened. I guess I got too busy and settled for less. I lost my focus. I'm tired and discouraged and I could make lots more excuses, but those excuses have got to stop.

My kids are watching me. They're learning from me, regardless of how poorly I'm teaching. Just because I'm a pessimist, doesn't mean I have to give up. It just means I can't do this thing alone. God is strong in my weakness. He has helped me push through this before, and He will be faithful to do it again.

That's not even blind optimism, folks. It's just the truth.

Invisibility: no cloak required

Has anyone else seen the Nationwide commercial with Mindy Kaling? Maybe it's just because I love "The Office," but this gets a laugh out of me every single time I watch it. 

I know it's just a commercial, but I can't help but relate to poor Mindy. Us quiet folks get overlooked a lot, though admittedly that's often the way we like it. We need just enough human interaction to get us by, and then we retreat back into isolation. We really do need that dose of acknowledgment, though. 

As a stay-at-home mom, I've never gotten a tremendous amount of adult interaction. Throw moving into the mix, and I have now kissed nearly all meaningful grown-up conversation goodbye. I don't plan on walking up to a muscular stranger and stroking his biceps, but I do feel a little invisible at the moment. 

You're probably tired of hearing about how we moved again, but darn it, that's just where I'm at right now. I got so spoiled when we moved to Tallahassee, because we clicked with those friendly Crossbridge folks right off the bat. It was unrealistic to expect it to happen again, but my expectations don't seem to care about what is unrealistic. 

Thank God for a husband who listens, phone conversations with sisters, and a steady stream of out-of-town family visits. I don't mean to be ungrateful, but I would also really like to make some friends who live nearby. You know, like an Anne of Green Gables style bosom friend. We wouldn't even have to make up imaginary, romantic names for everything around us. I'd just settle for some coffee dates where we can talk about girl stuff. 

Anyway, enough whining. I'm only mentioning the negative so I can bring up the positive. This is gonna sound weird, so try to keep an open mind. A couple nights ago at church, I had a "you are not invisible" moment. It wasn't comical like Mindy's, but it was so much better. 

I had a conversation with several adults who seemed to be genuinely interested in me, none of whom were a cashier or someone else being paid to be nice to me, and it lasted more than sixty seconds. It was more than a "Hey, how are you?" "Fine. How are you?" It may have only lasted about ten minutes, but it was fabulous. It wasn't a super deep conversation, but it went beneath surface level. I talked, they listened and responded, and there were no children interrupting us. Heavenly.

But wait, there's more!

One of the ladies I was talking to gave me one of those friendly back rubbing gestures. You know what I'm talking about? Not the awkward pat, but what I consider to be a heartfelt expression of caring. Just a few seconds of physical contact that weren't prompted by the preacher asking us to greet each other.

I almost got all choked up, but I mentally slapped myself in the face and yelled, "Keep it together, crazy!" I don't think it would have done much for my chances of friendship with this group if I cried during our first real conversation. I have to keep the neediness under wraps and let it out slowly. ;) You ladies know what I'm talking about. 

(It's OK to share it here because they're not my facebook friends yet!) 

At any rate, the whole interaction left me feeling wonderful. It's a shame that my kids were super whiny and ruined it minutes later, but I enjoyed the brief elation nonetheless. I felt like a part of something again. I was visible and maybe even valuable.

As usual, there is a point to sharing this story. I've been reflecting a good deal about how I used to treat others who were new to a group of my own. Did I regularly take compassion on those who were trying to find their niche in the group, or was I just content with being comfortable myself? 

Making others feel welcome is something everyone can participate in, and that goes for any group setting. (Church just happens to be the only group I've made time for here thus far.) Even introverts like myself share in that responsibility. Sure outgoing individuals make others feel welcome initially, but the quieter ones are more likely to take the conversation to a deeper level. I don't mean to say that more outgoing folks are shallow, just that they are more likely to keep walking around the room and be friendly to everyone in a group setting. The introverts are fine with honing in on one individual to converse with. 

In truth, both of these types of interaction are necessary. If you're friendly and bubbly, keep being yourself. If you're not, and I'm talking to myself here, you might have to make a more concentrated effort to help others feel connected. (aka: Force yourself to go against all that is within you.) 

If you're a lonely newbie like me, hang in there! Connections will be made with time, though that knowledge isn't always comforting in the moment. And don't fall into the trap of waiting for others to come to you. I am definitely struggling with that at the moment, so no judgment here. Sometimes it's hard to even find opportunities to put myself out there, though. Here are a few things I've found to be helpful over the years.

1. Don't rely on facebook for social interaction. It's nice for about five minutes, but then the feeling of connection is gone. Plus it really is just not the same as being face to face. ((((Hugs)))) are not the same as hugs, and typing is not the same as talking.

2. Get involved in a church that cares. The body of Christ was meant to be exactly that- one body. We have been blessed to find a church with caring people in every city that we've lived in. We were not meant to live this life alone, but rather to share each other's burdens. 

3. If you're a young mom, join a MOPS group. The whole purpose of MOPS is to connect moms with other moms. For me personally, MOPS was a lifesaver. I found out I wasn't alone in my mom frustrations, learned how to be a good friend (and made some lifelong friendships), received mentoring from well-seasoned moms, and became a meaningful part of a group with a real purpose.

4. Speaking of purpose, volunteering is a great way to make some connections as well. In addition to blessing someone else, you immediately have a common bond with the people you're working with. There's such a wide variety of volunteer opportunities to choose from, not the least of which is the church nursery. There's a perfect blend of work (which prevents awkward silence) and time to chitchat. (You're welcome, nursery directors.) 

5. Pray about it. (Sunday school answer alert!) I'm serious, though. God is a more faithful friend than any other. He is sufficient, though I do genuinely believe God created us to live in community. Pray that God would allow you to find someone else who needs your friendship just as much as you need theirs. He is faithful to answer that kind of prayer. 

And don't forget, you are not invisible! 

I'll close with a few words on friendship from the always wonderful Beth Moore. (If you're not a mom, simply change the minivan and playdate references to fit your own situation!)

"My point is, Moms, you’ve got to have you a support group of other moms. Many who are peers. Others who are just ahead of you. They will be used of God to get you through everything from the mundane to the morose. As I told my class last night, our ancient female ancestors walked to wells and rivers together to get water. Our great grandmothers quilted and canned together. We, instead, are imprisoned in our minivans driving breakneck speed, thinking a few maniacal minutes on a cell phone can replace a regular play-date where believing moms can take some time to laugh and share. I don’t think it’s a luxury. It’s a necessity for mental (and often spiritual!) health! [...] Those kinds of [intimate] relationships don’t take place in five minutes. They take years. Crises. Prayers. Divine favor. Your fellow moms are some of the most priceless treasures God has bestowed on you to cheer you on your way to the finish line of young parenting. Grab some arms and do it together."