Christmas is my favorite holiday. Hands-down. Candy canes and Christmas lights may as well be my middle name.
Seriously.
December 2009 finds me wondering how Christmas can possibly be 3 days away and where my Christmas spirit is. Is it even possible to find my 'ho-ho-ho' with so few days left? I'm not sure.
Today was my last day at work for - wait for it, wait for it - 12 days. That's right. I'm not sure I've ever been in more need of a break. Or if a break was ever more deserved. Sounds slightly puffed up, I know - but I have worked really, really hard over the past few months. At a speed that I truthfully don't want to try to keep up with.
Back to Christmas and those 3 days. I haven't gotten Christmas cards out. I tossed something together this week that I'm absolutely not sending. It's not my best graphic work, that's for sure - but we also have not one decent photo in our catalog, so to speak. The camera phone is dandy, but it's become our "go to" for photos and a good family photo it does not take.
The truth of today is this: I've spent a good portion of it feeling weepy and well, crying. It's so stupid really. There's this 8-year-old girl living within me who experienced Christmas at its heights and depths. Once upon a time, I belonged to a family who was knitted to one another. Two sets of grandparents, two parents, two sisters, a gaggle of cousins and some of the best food around. We gathered for all the holidays. No questions asked.
I'm thankful for my husband's family who close to 18 years ago, took this raggamuffin in and made me one of their own. Christmas celebrations at Lee's mama's were something to behold. God, I miss her so much.
The death of our family matriarch (lee's mama) has left such a void over the years. The lack of Jesus in the family doesn't help. But we've limped through the years and I think are finally experiencing a small version of what Christmas used to be.
I don't know why this day has left me so sad. I started out by saying that December has been rough. But what I really think is this:
Life is shorter than we can imagine. It's too short for lies and grudges and wounds. It's not long enough for grandparents to not know their grandkids. The mom of twins in Hope's class passed away in her sleep a few weeks ago at age 37. Sometimes, we don't have tomorrow to make that thing right. Or change a way, send a card or remember a birthday.
Sometimes, we just have to celebrate what we have. Happiness takes courage. At least it does for me. And I'm determined to bring some joy into the most important holiday of the year.
The birth of Jesus.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
I tend to put on a few pounds during the winter months. Lack of exercise, abundance of holiday treats, and the illusion of control that exists in my mind.
This year, I entered October, determined that this wouldn't happen. I felt like things were going okay. True, exercise hasn't been happening much, but I've been watching what goes into la hatch and THINKING about exercising a lot. My brain hurts from the process, even.
Black Friday found me in Lane Bryant, looking for a dress. Those who know me well, know that shopping is one of my least favorite things. Especially for clothes. A holiday party was around the corner and jeans and my Uggs (okay, fake Uggs) weren't going to cut it. Hope was with me and we both laid eyes on the same dress, at the same time.
"Mom, that is SO cute. You should get it." So I did. My size wasn't on the rack, so the store ordered for me and had it delivered 3 days later. Just a few days before the party. I felt good about the purchase. My jeans were fitting. And like I said, I've been watching what goes into "la hatch."
You can probably already guess how this ends.
The dress arrived. It didn't fit. I was shocked. Granted, it wasn't a very forgiving material - but the reality is, it didn't fit.
To back up 20 steps, going to a "dress up" party is not my thing at all. In fact, it's the opposite of my thing. While I did purchase a ticket to this ladies night out at the Murano, it was to help a friend who really wanted to go. This kind of night, is truly her kind of night.
The ill-fitting (okay, non-fitting) dress sent me to a bad place. I went to Lane Bryant the next day. Numerous phone calls unearthed the fact that my dress wasn't available in larger sizes.
Super.
I pulled five dresses into the fitting room with me. Gross. Too small. Horrible. Too tight. Too low. A last ditch effort found me with a black number that didn't look awful. Lane Bryant thankfully exchanged it at the "black friday price" and off I went. Two sizes greater than I normally wear.
Two. Sizes.
The evening came and went. My friend, whom we all rallied around, came down with a horrific case of the flu and couldn't go. She asked that we all go without her. I wish I had listened to my gut and bagged it. Not so much because of the dress fiasco, but because the only reason I agreed to go, was for her. And she tends to be the glue in those types of situations. The night wasn't horrible and some laughs were had.
Me and the dress? Not pretty. I don't think I have ever felt so uncomfortable in all of my days. One of the girls managed to grab 3 photos of us that evening. To say I didn't want to pose for pics is the understatement of the year. But I did it. They are floating around on facebook right now and I am horrified. Refusing to tag myself.
So what am I going to do about it? Very privately continuing to try. Yesterday, I bonded with my treadmill. I won't lie. Eighteen minutes of jogging was all I could muster. I'm about to bond with it again momentarily. If you've read any of my blogposts, the question is likely looming for you too, "How long will she stick with it this time?"
I don't have the answer to that. But I am so sick of myself I could spit.
One of my dearests friends and most favorite people comes to World Vision every Monday. I'm never there, so I rarely see her. Except for last week. I was there. So was she. She's very tall - 6'1, I think. And has gained a lot of weight over the past few years. Two babies and life struggles can do that to a girl.
I was thrilled to see my girl and SHOCKED to see how thin she was. She did the growth hormone program. And to quote her: "It was the worst 40 days of hell I have ever seen." She's on the "resting" phase. And not sure if she'll pick it up again for the next 40 days stint. What's the trick? The ads say the growth hormone, but she said it's the 500 calorie/day diet. Even with the hormone, she was starving. Crying into the night because she was SO freaking hungry.
The bigger thing it showed her is how enmeshed she is with food - and how broken she was without it.
I'm not sure what all of this means. I know that I have an addictive non-hunger-driven habit of eating what I want and overeating. And a pension to lethargy. These things combined have brought me to larger than life proportions that will not go away without exercise and diet control.
I'm so over this - but that's nothing new. I'm tired of the multiple personalities I seem to exhibit when it comes to diet and exercise. I'm all in or all out. Nothing in between.
For now, only the blogwaves will know my journey and struggle. I'm so sick of talking about exercising - why I do, why I don't, why I eat, why I overeat. For now, I'm just focusing on today. Aiming to make one good choice after another.
Last night, after a very good day, I found myself taking shots of whipped cream before bed. Disgusting, I know. It crossed my mind not to, but I did it anyhow. And THAT is the habit that needs to be broken. Last night, whipped cream. Another night, 2,000 calories of something more disruptive.
Here's to focusing on today. And asking God for help.
This year, I entered October, determined that this wouldn't happen. I felt like things were going okay. True, exercise hasn't been happening much, but I've been watching what goes into la hatch and THINKING about exercising a lot. My brain hurts from the process, even.
Black Friday found me in Lane Bryant, looking for a dress. Those who know me well, know that shopping is one of my least favorite things. Especially for clothes. A holiday party was around the corner and jeans and my Uggs (okay, fake Uggs) weren't going to cut it. Hope was with me and we both laid eyes on the same dress, at the same time.
"Mom, that is SO cute. You should get it." So I did. My size wasn't on the rack, so the store ordered for me and had it delivered 3 days later. Just a few days before the party. I felt good about the purchase. My jeans were fitting. And like I said, I've been watching what goes into "la hatch."
You can probably already guess how this ends.
The dress arrived. It didn't fit. I was shocked. Granted, it wasn't a very forgiving material - but the reality is, it didn't fit.
To back up 20 steps, going to a "dress up" party is not my thing at all. In fact, it's the opposite of my thing. While I did purchase a ticket to this ladies night out at the Murano, it was to help a friend who really wanted to go. This kind of night, is truly her kind of night.
The ill-fitting (okay, non-fitting) dress sent me to a bad place. I went to Lane Bryant the next day. Numerous phone calls unearthed the fact that my dress wasn't available in larger sizes.
Super.
I pulled five dresses into the fitting room with me. Gross. Too small. Horrible. Too tight. Too low. A last ditch effort found me with a black number that didn't look awful. Lane Bryant thankfully exchanged it at the "black friday price" and off I went. Two sizes greater than I normally wear.
Two. Sizes.
The evening came and went. My friend, whom we all rallied around, came down with a horrific case of the flu and couldn't go. She asked that we all go without her. I wish I had listened to my gut and bagged it. Not so much because of the dress fiasco, but because the only reason I agreed to go, was for her. And she tends to be the glue in those types of situations. The night wasn't horrible and some laughs were had.
Me and the dress? Not pretty. I don't think I have ever felt so uncomfortable in all of my days. One of the girls managed to grab 3 photos of us that evening. To say I didn't want to pose for pics is the understatement of the year. But I did it. They are floating around on facebook right now and I am horrified. Refusing to tag myself.
So what am I going to do about it? Very privately continuing to try. Yesterday, I bonded with my treadmill. I won't lie. Eighteen minutes of jogging was all I could muster. I'm about to bond with it again momentarily. If you've read any of my blogposts, the question is likely looming for you too, "How long will she stick with it this time?"
I don't have the answer to that. But I am so sick of myself I could spit.
One of my dearests friends and most favorite people comes to World Vision every Monday. I'm never there, so I rarely see her. Except for last week. I was there. So was she. She's very tall - 6'1, I think. And has gained a lot of weight over the past few years. Two babies and life struggles can do that to a girl.
I was thrilled to see my girl and SHOCKED to see how thin she was. She did the growth hormone program. And to quote her: "It was the worst 40 days of hell I have ever seen." She's on the "resting" phase. And not sure if she'll pick it up again for the next 40 days stint. What's the trick? The ads say the growth hormone, but she said it's the 500 calorie/day diet. Even with the hormone, she was starving. Crying into the night because she was SO freaking hungry.
The bigger thing it showed her is how enmeshed she is with food - and how broken she was without it.
I'm not sure what all of this means. I know that I have an addictive non-hunger-driven habit of eating what I want and overeating. And a pension to lethargy. These things combined have brought me to larger than life proportions that will not go away without exercise and diet control.
I'm so over this - but that's nothing new. I'm tired of the multiple personalities I seem to exhibit when it comes to diet and exercise. I'm all in or all out. Nothing in between.
For now, only the blogwaves will know my journey and struggle. I'm so sick of talking about exercising - why I do, why I don't, why I eat, why I overeat. For now, I'm just focusing on today. Aiming to make one good choice after another.
Last night, after a very good day, I found myself taking shots of whipped cream before bed. Disgusting, I know. It crossed my mind not to, but I did it anyhow. And THAT is the habit that needs to be broken. Last night, whipped cream. Another night, 2,000 calories of something more disruptive.
Here's to focusing on today. And asking God for help.
Monday, December 7, 2009
thankfulness on a freezing monday
I really thought this list would be longer by now. Like most things, I "forget to remember." Beginning with #202...here are some gratitude nuggets for this FREEZING Monday morning.
202. the reason we celebrate Christmas (birth of Jesus)
203. stepping out of comfort zones.
204. a home to decorate
205. Christmas decorations
206. Christmas lights
207. driving home at night amid the glow of holiday lights
208. rollerskating
209. Martha Stewart
210. Christmas baking
211. doing new things
212. not taking things personally
213. being different
214. a 9-year-old's reasoning
215. a body that functions
216. a legacy left
217. striving to be better
218. frosty crisp branches on morning tree
219. hand-crocheted blankets
220. freshly cut hair
221. Uggs. at 6 am in the morning.
222. hot tea in new cups
223. knowing someone so well
224. power amidst a wind storm
225. the freshness of monday
I'd also like to ask for prayer for a family in my daughter's class. Twins - Nate and Zack. Their mama died in her sleep in Thursday. She was very young and supermom to all. It's been very sad - beyond sad. All the girls at Hope's cookie party on Saturday have been closely affected. Life is short. Live well.
Happy Monday. :)
202. the reason we celebrate Christmas (birth of Jesus)
203. stepping out of comfort zones.
204. a home to decorate
205. Christmas decorations
206. Christmas lights
207. driving home at night amid the glow of holiday lights
208. rollerskating
209. Martha Stewart
210. Christmas baking
211. doing new things
212. not taking things personally
213. being different
214. a 9-year-old's reasoning
215. a body that functions
216. a legacy left
217. striving to be better
218. frosty crisp branches on morning tree
219. hand-crocheted blankets
220. freshly cut hair
221. Uggs. at 6 am in the morning.
222. hot tea in new cups
223. knowing someone so well
224. power amidst a wind storm
225. the freshness of monday
I'd also like to ask for prayer for a family in my daughter's class. Twins - Nate and Zack. Their mama died in her sleep in Thursday. She was very young and supermom to all. It's been very sad - beyond sad. All the girls at Hope's cookie party on Saturday have been closely affected. Life is short. Live well.
Happy Monday. :)
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