Today I had a lesson in...humility? Not sure what to call how I feel. I arrived to work at my usual time, expecting to be busy because they were busy yesterday. I also expected to have a lot of work to do because I'd been off for three days; and to be frank -- I am anal about my bar. Plus, with some new meat behind the bar, and a busy weekend...some things don't get done.
What I found, was infuriating. Not only were my expectations met; but it was worse than I thought. I was livid, and running out of time to get everything done before the rush hit. After that, it was over. I left a few notes in the book and complained loudly to the usual people that milled about in the morning, including a manager. There was a lot to be done that should have been done, and some things that might affect what we were able to do for the guests.
Later, as I sat and had dinner I realized that I had forgotten to put away all the wine that had just been delivered. Swallowing my own foot, I texted the night bartenders (the same that had worked the night before and were the object of most of my scathing criticisms) and asked them to finish before the managers (one of which is the one I was complaining to this morning) arrived to do inventory and discover my forgotten and incomplete task.
Needless to say, I see the err of my ways. It's god telling me to shut the hell up and be more tolerant, patient, understanding, and less critical of others. I, myself, am not perfect. I guess sometimes I just need to be reminded of that fact.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
28March2010 2
I guess I was blogging after midnight last night, because I dated it today's date. Weird, because for the last week; I've been really confused about the date and can't seem to keep track of it. I'm pretty sure it's because it isn't important to me. I've determined that, for the most part, we remember what we want to remember, what we're interested in. I know that I've been preoccupied with losing weight, getting healthy; I've been obsessing about food. I really don't like the nutri system food. It's pretty gross. I have found myself starving all weekend. Plus, it has way too much fiber if you know what I mean.
I'm not going to renew the "subscription". I'll finish the two weeks, but I'm definitely supplementing with REAL food. The bars, desserts, and breakfast items are actually pretty good. Anything with chicken was gross, and obviously not fresh. Any kind of meat or dairy product (usually refrigerated) that can somehow sit on a shelf in a grocery store, unrefrigerated- freaks me out. It's just not normal. And I honestly feel wrong eating it. I feel like something is wrong, like I am going against what I really feel.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about the organic debate and whether or not it is healthier, whether or not it makes a difference. I really want to learn more and want to take Dana, Jeremy, and Lori to an organic farm when they come. I'd like for us all to learn more. I even found myself in the comissary today looking at the produce and trying to figure out where it was grown, and how. I noticed, for the first time, that the commissary lists the country where each produce item is grown. I did have trouble finding out where the organic stuff was grown though. I mean, not only is eating organic important to me, but I'd like to eat local as much as possible.
I've also learned that eating organic is next to impossible when you eat out. Very few, and even fewer kid friendly, organic restaurants (even here in overly eco-conscious Washington state) exist. Almost no one advertises grass fed beef. While a lot of chef-owned, higher end, kid unfriendly places do use local this and that or cage free eggs; there is really not a lot available for budget minded, environmentally and socially conscientious families.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not throwing out my leather shoes, or holding up a picket sign against or for anything. I just want more choices. The grocery stores are all on board with healthier eating, better and fresher choices. Why aren't the restaurants? I'm sure that the answer to that is really complicated. I'm sure that (please, try to bear with the conspiracy theorist inside of me) Applebee's is somehow in bed with ConAgra and/or the logistics of a national restaurant chain keeping its food consistent while using local ingredients are probably the barriers to creating the concept that I speak of; but someone out there should do it. Is it financially feasible? There are a million reasons why it probably hasn't been done; not least of all the fact that the economy is horrible and opening something right now wouldn't be the wisest idea.
Well, at least I can buy and cook what I want, for the most part. I can make a choice to buy natural foods. And, if I don't want to, I don't have to. But, I definitely won't be buying anymore Nutrisystem fettucini alfredo dry-pasta-and-seasonings-in-a-cup-just-add-water-and-it-tasted-more-like-noodle-soup-than-alfredo. That's for sure.
I'm not going to renew the "subscription". I'll finish the two weeks, but I'm definitely supplementing with REAL food. The bars, desserts, and breakfast items are actually pretty good. Anything with chicken was gross, and obviously not fresh. Any kind of meat or dairy product (usually refrigerated) that can somehow sit on a shelf in a grocery store, unrefrigerated- freaks me out. It's just not normal. And I honestly feel wrong eating it. I feel like something is wrong, like I am going against what I really feel.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about the organic debate and whether or not it is healthier, whether or not it makes a difference. I really want to learn more and want to take Dana, Jeremy, and Lori to an organic farm when they come. I'd like for us all to learn more. I even found myself in the comissary today looking at the produce and trying to figure out where it was grown, and how. I noticed, for the first time, that the commissary lists the country where each produce item is grown. I did have trouble finding out where the organic stuff was grown though. I mean, not only is eating organic important to me, but I'd like to eat local as much as possible.
I've also learned that eating organic is next to impossible when you eat out. Very few, and even fewer kid friendly, organic restaurants (even here in overly eco-conscious Washington state) exist. Almost no one advertises grass fed beef. While a lot of chef-owned, higher end, kid unfriendly places do use local this and that or cage free eggs; there is really not a lot available for budget minded, environmentally and socially conscientious families.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not throwing out my leather shoes, or holding up a picket sign against or for anything. I just want more choices. The grocery stores are all on board with healthier eating, better and fresher choices. Why aren't the restaurants? I'm sure that the answer to that is really complicated. I'm sure that (please, try to bear with the conspiracy theorist inside of me) Applebee's is somehow in bed with ConAgra and/or the logistics of a national restaurant chain keeping its food consistent while using local ingredients are probably the barriers to creating the concept that I speak of; but someone out there should do it. Is it financially feasible? There are a million reasons why it probably hasn't been done; not least of all the fact that the economy is horrible and opening something right now wouldn't be the wisest idea.
Well, at least I can buy and cook what I want, for the most part. I can make a choice to buy natural foods. And, if I don't want to, I don't have to. But, I definitely won't be buying anymore Nutrisystem fettucini alfredo dry-pasta-and-seasonings-in-a-cup-just-add-water-and-it-tasted-more-like-noodle-soup-than-alfredo. That's for sure.
28March2010
Yesterday, Rylee and I took Taylor and Jax to Oly for dinner. We went to Cascadia Grill, which is right downtown, for burgers. I know what you're saying already. What happened to Nutri System? Well, let's just say that yesteday, I needed a burger. And I was starving from sitting around thinking about how hungry I was all day. LOL. As we drive downtown, it strikes me. First, downtown has no skyscrapers or anything of that nature. It really just looks like a small town downtown. I like that. Then I notice them. Everyone is still lost in the land of grunge. All the clothing is neutral, and flowy, or jeans too tight, hair in dreadlocks. It was apparent that Oly is very hippy and in some cases, obviously mentally ill and homeless. I kind of like artsy, weirdness. Portland, Seattle - both artsy and weird. But at least there, it looked like everyone showered on a regular basis. I don't know that I could say that for Oly. So we circled around and found parking. There were a lot of people milling about, as it was a beautiful day. We crossed over to the burger place, and as we entered we were struck by the decor. There were old school black and white photos or people in a 3d cardboard cityscape kind of design up on top of a high plant ledge. The bar, to the left, reminded me a bit of a saloon. We waited to be sat, and the waitress probably walked by us at least twice before we had to ask where we sit or if we wait. She said she'd be back to seat us in a few minutes, not once cracking an iota of a smile. She didn't look like she smiled much in general. Great, I thought, she's one of those unfriendly professional waitress types. How can these people get by thinking they are entitled to a tip? Isn't tipping based on service? I tip because of tipping karma; but you can tell the difference between a bad day and a sour, undynamic personality. These are people better off not dealing with the public. These are people that make you feel like they are doing you a favor to bring you what you order. I hate that. Anyway, after we were seated, Taylor decided to check out the acoustics of the room by stretching her vocal cords a bit. This was much to my embarassment, and so we attempted to explain to her to use her quiet voice while Jax was sleeping, and that other people were eating and so on and so forth. Really, she just needed to be engaged and distracted. I started to point out things outside, and name colors of things. This worked when there were people walking by to watch.
I ordered a glass of Bodega Malbec (which was $6, and upon inspecting online, is only like $7 a bottle) and it was actually pretty good. Nice and bold, with some buttery creamy notes. I like wine that makes me want to chew it. Weird, I know; but I do. We had hummus and veggies and pita as an appetizer and it was delicious. I also ordered a sofrito burger, medium rare.
When it came, it was well done; which I hate - but I would rather just eat it than wait for another one. There was way too much bread, and it was too hard on the outside to get a proper bite. Because the burger was so big, all of the lovely roasted peppers and onions would slide off of the other side of the burger as I tried to bite it. The smoked cheese on top was the only saving grace. Needless to say, I would not return.
Instead of opting for dessert, as the natives (Taylor) were restless, we opted to walk around the water and downtown area and trek back to suburban civilization to get Coldstone after our walk.
(P.S. Taylor is super hungry this morning. She's eaten a veggie sausage patty, two eggs, and half of a tomato!)
Our trek proved to be equal parts interesting and terrifying from a people watching perspective. We came to an area of fountains that rose in various patterns in the concrete, which was an immediate invitation to Taylor to run around them. We did, and I tried to keep us dry. I kept her drier than I did myself, and we moved on. As we left, a man approached and proceeded to take off his hand-me-down, dirty camoflauge jacket and run into dancing streams of water. Honestly, it was nice out; but it was cold. We left quickly, hoping not to catch his attention...or odor.
As we crossed into a small park square with gazebos, I noticed two girls in one of them. They looked young, teenagers, and looked like they were reading from papers and acting out a script. An older man approached us, wearing age innappropriate clothing, asking us to buy two beanie babies he had in his hands. He gestured them towards Taylor, as if she'd make the decision for me. "They're brand new." He said. Not a chance, dude.
We decided, as dusk approached, and more and more homeless and transient looking people started to come out of the woodwork that it was time to leave.
Coldstone was a funy experience. As we entered, I noticed that Taylor had peed through her pants on both sides! Shocked, we trekked back to the car with the intention to scrap the venture in favor of pints from the grocery store and a short trip back home to clean clothes. Instead, I found that I was strangely prepared and had a spare pair of pants in the car. They even matched what she was wearing. I changed her, and Rylee changed Jax, and off we went into Coldstone. There was a line, of course; but it seemed to move quickly. Never quick enough for Miss T, she was all over the place. She found a boy a year or two older than her and proceeded to flirt with him shamelessly and talk about the ice cream in the case. Finally, we ordered. I got her strawberry with sprinkles, and a kid sized cake batter for myself. Rylee got the berry berry good that Adam usually gets. We sat outside at one of the table, and that's when my favorite moment from the whole day happened.
As Taylor would scoop her mini spoon into her ice cream, she would giggle. Every single time, she laughed. She'd get near the ice cream and this laugh would come from her. It was like she couldn't control it. It was as though she had such joy, and such a feeling of satisfaction from this ice cream. It was a deliberate, conquering laugh. As if she was telling the ice cream that she'd won and was going to eat every last bite. When she thought she was done (because she couldn't see the ice cream hiding in fear on the inside of the cup), she turned her spoon's attention to my ice cream - without asking, apologizing or any sort of inclination that it wasn't her ice cream. I rearranged her cup and she was back to her victorious giggling and scooping.
The whole thing was hilarious. And definitely worth the trip. I can't wait until Adam is home and can see her wreckless abandon with ice cream. It takes me two sittings to eat a kid's sized ice cream from Coldstone; and she'd finished hers in record time - just like her daddy.
He'd be so proud of his little ice cream warrior.
I ordered a glass of Bodega Malbec (which was $6, and upon inspecting online, is only like $7 a bottle) and it was actually pretty good. Nice and bold, with some buttery creamy notes. I like wine that makes me want to chew it. Weird, I know; but I do. We had hummus and veggies and pita as an appetizer and it was delicious. I also ordered a sofrito burger, medium rare.
When it came, it was well done; which I hate - but I would rather just eat it than wait for another one. There was way too much bread, and it was too hard on the outside to get a proper bite. Because the burger was so big, all of the lovely roasted peppers and onions would slide off of the other side of the burger as I tried to bite it. The smoked cheese on top was the only saving grace. Needless to say, I would not return.
Instead of opting for dessert, as the natives (Taylor) were restless, we opted to walk around the water and downtown area and trek back to suburban civilization to get Coldstone after our walk.
(P.S. Taylor is super hungry this morning. She's eaten a veggie sausage patty, two eggs, and half of a tomato!)
Our trek proved to be equal parts interesting and terrifying from a people watching perspective. We came to an area of fountains that rose in various patterns in the concrete, which was an immediate invitation to Taylor to run around them. We did, and I tried to keep us dry. I kept her drier than I did myself, and we moved on. As we left, a man approached and proceeded to take off his hand-me-down, dirty camoflauge jacket and run into dancing streams of water. Honestly, it was nice out; but it was cold. We left quickly, hoping not to catch his attention...or odor.
As we crossed into a small park square with gazebos, I noticed two girls in one of them. They looked young, teenagers, and looked like they were reading from papers and acting out a script. An older man approached us, wearing age innappropriate clothing, asking us to buy two beanie babies he had in his hands. He gestured them towards Taylor, as if she'd make the decision for me. "They're brand new." He said. Not a chance, dude.
We decided, as dusk approached, and more and more homeless and transient looking people started to come out of the woodwork that it was time to leave.
Coldstone was a funy experience. As we entered, I noticed that Taylor had peed through her pants on both sides! Shocked, we trekked back to the car with the intention to scrap the venture in favor of pints from the grocery store and a short trip back home to clean clothes. Instead, I found that I was strangely prepared and had a spare pair of pants in the car. They even matched what she was wearing. I changed her, and Rylee changed Jax, and off we went into Coldstone. There was a line, of course; but it seemed to move quickly. Never quick enough for Miss T, she was all over the place. She found a boy a year or two older than her and proceeded to flirt with him shamelessly and talk about the ice cream in the case. Finally, we ordered. I got her strawberry with sprinkles, and a kid sized cake batter for myself. Rylee got the berry berry good that Adam usually gets. We sat outside at one of the table, and that's when my favorite moment from the whole day happened.
As Taylor would scoop her mini spoon into her ice cream, she would giggle. Every single time, she laughed. She'd get near the ice cream and this laugh would come from her. It was like she couldn't control it. It was as though she had such joy, and such a feeling of satisfaction from this ice cream. It was a deliberate, conquering laugh. As if she was telling the ice cream that she'd won and was going to eat every last bite. When she thought she was done (because she couldn't see the ice cream hiding in fear on the inside of the cup), she turned her spoon's attention to my ice cream - without asking, apologizing or any sort of inclination that it wasn't her ice cream. I rearranged her cup and she was back to her victorious giggling and scooping.
The whole thing was hilarious. And definitely worth the trip. I can't wait until Adam is home and can see her wreckless abandon with ice cream. It takes me two sittings to eat a kid's sized ice cream from Coldstone; and she'd finished hers in record time - just like her daddy.
He'd be so proud of his little ice cream warrior.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
27Mar2010
It's been awhile since I've been on; and I am super excited to be able to update the blog from the very comfortable sofa in my living room. My netbook has arrived, and I love it to pieces! P.S. It's pink. So now, I am free to update my blog while laying in bed, sipping coffee at (anywhere but Starbucks, yuck), or even while simultaneously enjoying a recently DVRed episode of Criminal Minds.
I've started going to the gym since the last blog. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I go with Amelia from work. I have actually started to really enjoy the elliptical machine. It's definitely a personal challenge each time I get on it- go five minutes longer, faster to burn more calories than last time, sweat a little more...I ordered Nutri System, and started it yesterday. It's, so far, not that bad. I can't say that it's the most delicious food that I've ever had; but it isn't horrendous. It's edible and that was all I was really looking for. It allows you to track your weight, food, and exercise for each day online, too. I like that. It prompted me to measure out the creamer that I usually use each morning in my coffee. Typically, I just pour it into freshly brewed coffee in my oversized 25 ounce cup. Yesterday, I measured it. 14 tablespoons later, I was shocked and disgusted and truly beginning to understand exactly why I am overweight. To be clear, that's 280 calories of coffee creamer. I immediately thought, I'd much rather eat those 280 calories. Or, not injest them at all. That is about how much I'd burned the day before on the elliptical. So I am basically exercising in order to drink my coffee every day. I love my coffee, but I also love the idea of loving my body. So, I resolved to cut my coffee intake in half and continue to measure the creamer.
I also realized that I am or was, totally unaware of what I was eating. It really got me thinking. A few crackers here, fnishing Taylor's macaroni and cheese there, a french fry or three while working, a slice of a pizza that was made incorrectly...it all adds up, and quickly. I like the nutri system because it forces me to know what I am eating and drinking. For instance, I am a professed lover of vodka and knowing now that vodka has seventy calories PER OUNCE really has enticed me not to drink any.
And that's saying something....
I've started going to the gym since the last blog. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I go with Amelia from work. I have actually started to really enjoy the elliptical machine. It's definitely a personal challenge each time I get on it- go five minutes longer, faster to burn more calories than last time, sweat a little more...I ordered Nutri System, and started it yesterday. It's, so far, not that bad. I can't say that it's the most delicious food that I've ever had; but it isn't horrendous. It's edible and that was all I was really looking for. It allows you to track your weight, food, and exercise for each day online, too. I like that. It prompted me to measure out the creamer that I usually use each morning in my coffee. Typically, I just pour it into freshly brewed coffee in my oversized 25 ounce cup. Yesterday, I measured it. 14 tablespoons later, I was shocked and disgusted and truly beginning to understand exactly why I am overweight. To be clear, that's 280 calories of coffee creamer. I immediately thought, I'd much rather eat those 280 calories. Or, not injest them at all. That is about how much I'd burned the day before on the elliptical. So I am basically exercising in order to drink my coffee every day. I love my coffee, but I also love the idea of loving my body. So, I resolved to cut my coffee intake in half and continue to measure the creamer.
I also realized that I am or was, totally unaware of what I was eating. It really got me thinking. A few crackers here, fnishing Taylor's macaroni and cheese there, a french fry or three while working, a slice of a pizza that was made incorrectly...it all adds up, and quickly. I like the nutri system because it forces me to know what I am eating and drinking. For instance, I am a professed lover of vodka and knowing now that vodka has seventy calories PER OUNCE really has enticed me not to drink any.
And that's saying something....
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
16March2010
Dear Skinny Kristy,
I am writing this letter to you, skinny kristy of the future (thirty pounds in three months??!?) in order to express to you congratulations for sticking with it! The final straw was a picture taken in Portland this past weekend. I was sitting (ugh) and leaning (ugh, more squishiness) and honestly, embarrassingly I couldn't see where boobs ended and belly began. Not to mention the fat girl arms. I was thoroughly disgusted. I can not take it anymore. I must be more conscientious about what is going into my mouth (please insert innappropriate sexual references here....) and get off of my lazy butt and exercise. I am totally out of excuses. I don't want to get out of bed in the morning, and I like food. These are the reasons I am fat. I will also keep account, as public record even!, my food intake for the day. I feel like putting it up here, on my blog, for all to see....will make me accountable. It will make it real. I can't hide from the internet!
So here goes:
For breakfast:
Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly Uncrustables. (which I thought wasn't too bad, and it isn't but it isn't really great, either. Not a lot of protein (which I hear keeps you full and energized!)
For lunch (which I couldn't eat until after work, because I was busy):
Healthy Choice Fresh Mixers, Ziti and Meat Sauce (I know, I know. A lot of processed food. I do need to work on that; but quick counts and is necessary. Hmm, fruit is quick. Perhaps, I could squeeze in a banana at work while I'm working just to curb the beasties.)
In the car, on the way to pick up Taylor, I was accosted by a bag of Goldfish (with whole grain!lol as if.) and ate ten of them. Yes, I did count.
For dinner: (and this is where it gets really good, because I promised myself a healthy veggie dinner, and I am so proud because I stuck to it!!!!)
Green Giant carrots, white beans and spinach in a garlic butter sauce. (Again, yes, I am aware of all the processed food today; but frozen veggies have a lot of nutrients, too. And I read the nutritional information on this one. It's pretty good for me.)
For dessert, I did have a mini chocolate cupcake and cream cheese frosting. I also took a vitamin and drank my giant coffee with sugar free (not, unfortunately, calorie free) creamer. I am currently attempting to hydrate; and drink at least thirty ounces of water today.
Well, to be honest. That was really hard. In actually putting it all on paper; I am sort of ashamed. Today was me trying really hard, and I feel like I ate a lot of already made foods. I also feel, right now, like I really want to snack; because that is always what I do. Instead, I will attempt to meet my water quota. I am not really hungry; I don't think; but I don't think I ate enough calories today. I don't want to ruin my hard work with a hot pocket or ice cream or something; but I think tomorrow I should focus on eating more earlier and eating home cooked foods in the future. I will most likely continue with my healthy choice meals until I find a better take-it-to-work and eat-it-really-quick solution.
Tomorrow, I am going to attempt to get my freshly motivated butt out of bed and go work out. My plan is to be up at 6:30 and leaving by 7 (Taylor in tow), to work out by 7:30 and done by 8:30, home again by 8:45 and leaving the house by 9:45 to get to work by 10.
We'll see how that goes. It will be hectic and is all dependent on not hitting snooze.
Wish me luck, future beautiful-in-a-bathingsuit-self!
Love,
Heavier-but-newly-motivated-to-change-Kristy
I am writing this letter to you, skinny kristy of the future (thirty pounds in three months??!?) in order to express to you congratulations for sticking with it! The final straw was a picture taken in Portland this past weekend. I was sitting (ugh) and leaning (ugh, more squishiness) and honestly, embarrassingly I couldn't see where boobs ended and belly began. Not to mention the fat girl arms. I was thoroughly disgusted. I can not take it anymore. I must be more conscientious about what is going into my mouth (please insert innappropriate sexual references here....) and get off of my lazy butt and exercise. I am totally out of excuses. I don't want to get out of bed in the morning, and I like food. These are the reasons I am fat. I will also keep account, as public record even!, my food intake for the day. I feel like putting it up here, on my blog, for all to see....will make me accountable. It will make it real. I can't hide from the internet!
So here goes:
For breakfast:
Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly Uncrustables. (which I thought wasn't too bad, and it isn't but it isn't really great, either. Not a lot of protein (which I hear keeps you full and energized!)
For lunch (which I couldn't eat until after work, because I was busy):
Healthy Choice Fresh Mixers, Ziti and Meat Sauce (I know, I know. A lot of processed food. I do need to work on that; but quick counts and is necessary. Hmm, fruit is quick. Perhaps, I could squeeze in a banana at work while I'm working just to curb the beasties.)
In the car, on the way to pick up Taylor, I was accosted by a bag of Goldfish (with whole grain!lol as if.) and ate ten of them. Yes, I did count.
For dinner: (and this is where it gets really good, because I promised myself a healthy veggie dinner, and I am so proud because I stuck to it!!!!)
Green Giant carrots, white beans and spinach in a garlic butter sauce. (Again, yes, I am aware of all the processed food today; but frozen veggies have a lot of nutrients, too. And I read the nutritional information on this one. It's pretty good for me.)
For dessert, I did have a mini chocolate cupcake and cream cheese frosting. I also took a vitamin and drank my giant coffee with sugar free (not, unfortunately, calorie free) creamer. I am currently attempting to hydrate; and drink at least thirty ounces of water today.
Well, to be honest. That was really hard. In actually putting it all on paper; I am sort of ashamed. Today was me trying really hard, and I feel like I ate a lot of already made foods. I also feel, right now, like I really want to snack; because that is always what I do. Instead, I will attempt to meet my water quota. I am not really hungry; I don't think; but I don't think I ate enough calories today. I don't want to ruin my hard work with a hot pocket or ice cream or something; but I think tomorrow I should focus on eating more earlier and eating home cooked foods in the future. I will most likely continue with my healthy choice meals until I find a better take-it-to-work and eat-it-really-quick solution.
Tomorrow, I am going to attempt to get my freshly motivated butt out of bed and go work out. My plan is to be up at 6:30 and leaving by 7 (Taylor in tow), to work out by 7:30 and done by 8:30, home again by 8:45 and leaving the house by 9:45 to get to work by 10.
We'll see how that goes. It will be hectic and is all dependent on not hitting snooze.
Wish me luck, future beautiful-in-a-bathingsuit-self!
Love,
Heavier-but-newly-motivated-to-change-Kristy
Monday, March 8, 2010
8mar2010
So I just got off of the skype with Adam. It was a really hard call. He's just started to work out again, so he's super motivated and wants me to be too. Well, I'm not. In fact, I feel exactly the opposite. In the first week after he left, I drank every day. By myself after Taylor went to bed, while watching Criminal Minds or other assorted crap on tv, I drank. Sometimes one, mostly two or three strong drinks. I made myself stop; not because I didn't want to drink anymore; but because I knew I should or it could go somewhere really bad. I felt it getting past the point of acceptability. I wanted to drink during the day. It was really all I wanted to do. I knew that wasn't ok. Anyway, I knew I was drinking because I was depressed about him leaving; but that's just an excuse, isn't it? I can deal with it another way. Like, by actually dealing with it.
So this past weekend, Taylor was sick. Needless to say, we didn't do much. We barely left the house. And I barely left the couch. I mustered up enough motivation to vacuum upstairs, do laundy and make an attempt at keeping the dishes at bay. Otherwise, I didn't clean the rest of the house like I'd wanted to. On Friday, during her three and a half hour nap, I layed on the couch and watched three and a half hours of tv. I literally had no motivation or desire or energy, what felt like, ability to raise myself from the couch and accomplish something.
Now, to a normal person, capable of moving on from small setbacks like this; no big deal. But, to obsessive me - big deal. I feel like for as long as I can remember, I've been really hard on myself. I've never been satisfied with what I've done, how much I've accomplished, or ever been able to forgive myself for even the smallest trespass against my goals. For example, if I am supposed to wash my face, floss, and brush my teeth at night and I don't do it; I feel such a sense of self-defeat that I don't do it for days afterwards. It makes no sense; but I feel like such a failure, why should I bother? This happens often, and in so many small ways and situations. I think that this is why I've settled for mediocrity in so many areas of my life. I am afraid to fail. I am so afraid to fail that I have failed already. I have failed myself. I have convinced myself that I will fail, and so why even bother? And if I stumble, and something even remotely close to a failure is visible from even the farthest distance, I fail. So I quit. If I can't do it perfectly, every time, I fail. So I don't do it. Then, by not doing it, I fail. This is the vicious cycle that I live in daily. Every single day, the greatest challenges for me are maintaining routine and performing mundane tasks. The hardest part of my life is (feel free to laugh contemptuously) brushing my teeth. But, for me, doing all of these things is next to impossible.
All of this is nothing I haven't known. But it is something I've never admitted to anyone. Ever. Adam was trying to help me. He was "coaching" like men do "Oh, you can do it! Just set goals, and so on and so forth." (with regards to exercise). I told him I knew myself and that I couldn't. just. do. it. Eventually, all of this came flooding out. Who am I that I should lie anymore? Why shouldn't I face the truth of it. But, facing the truth and actually being able (as in, having the psychological tools and then being motivated enough to use them) to do something about the ugly truth are two different things. And now that he knows, I will be forced to fix it. Perhaps, a good thing. But, even as I write this, I fear that these are things I really can't fix on my own. I am not really sure what to do. I've been defeating myself my entire life. How do I stop now, and learn to think completely differently after thirty years? I'm not really sure what to do, but I know I have to stop. I want things. I want to be things. I want to do things. And not beat myself up so much if I don't do them, so that I can do other things.
Even as I reread this blog, I am feeling skiddish. I don't want to face how deep I really feel about some things about myself. But, even my crazy brain knows that if I don't, it won't ever get better.
So this past weekend, Taylor was sick. Needless to say, we didn't do much. We barely left the house. And I barely left the couch. I mustered up enough motivation to vacuum upstairs, do laundy and make an attempt at keeping the dishes at bay. Otherwise, I didn't clean the rest of the house like I'd wanted to. On Friday, during her three and a half hour nap, I layed on the couch and watched three and a half hours of tv. I literally had no motivation or desire or energy, what felt like, ability to raise myself from the couch and accomplish something.
Now, to a normal person, capable of moving on from small setbacks like this; no big deal. But, to obsessive me - big deal. I feel like for as long as I can remember, I've been really hard on myself. I've never been satisfied with what I've done, how much I've accomplished, or ever been able to forgive myself for even the smallest trespass against my goals. For example, if I am supposed to wash my face, floss, and brush my teeth at night and I don't do it; I feel such a sense of self-defeat that I don't do it for days afterwards. It makes no sense; but I feel like such a failure, why should I bother? This happens often, and in so many small ways and situations. I think that this is why I've settled for mediocrity in so many areas of my life. I am afraid to fail. I am so afraid to fail that I have failed already. I have failed myself. I have convinced myself that I will fail, and so why even bother? And if I stumble, and something even remotely close to a failure is visible from even the farthest distance, I fail. So I quit. If I can't do it perfectly, every time, I fail. So I don't do it. Then, by not doing it, I fail. This is the vicious cycle that I live in daily. Every single day, the greatest challenges for me are maintaining routine and performing mundane tasks. The hardest part of my life is (feel free to laugh contemptuously) brushing my teeth. But, for me, doing all of these things is next to impossible.
All of this is nothing I haven't known. But it is something I've never admitted to anyone. Ever. Adam was trying to help me. He was "coaching" like men do "Oh, you can do it! Just set goals, and so on and so forth." (with regards to exercise). I told him I knew myself and that I couldn't. just. do. it. Eventually, all of this came flooding out. Who am I that I should lie anymore? Why shouldn't I face the truth of it. But, facing the truth and actually being able (as in, having the psychological tools and then being motivated enough to use them) to do something about the ugly truth are two different things. And now that he knows, I will be forced to fix it. Perhaps, a good thing. But, even as I write this, I fear that these are things I really can't fix on my own. I am not really sure what to do. I've been defeating myself my entire life. How do I stop now, and learn to think completely differently after thirty years? I'm not really sure what to do, but I know I have to stop. I want things. I want to be things. I want to do things. And not beat myself up so much if I don't do them, so that I can do other things.
Even as I reread this blog, I am feeling skiddish. I don't want to face how deep I really feel about some things about myself. But, even my crazy brain knows that if I don't, it won't ever get better.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
23Feb2010
So Adam has come and gone again. I didn't blog, because I was frankly too busy and too happy to blog. lol.
As he was to arrive, I went through the gamut of emotions. I felt anxious, nervous, excited, really excited, then really really excited.
Taylor and I went to the airport and we were a touch early, so we waited by the bag claim. I was really anxious, because before he'd left, we'd been sort of out of sorts. I have to be totally honest, here; now that I feel differently; I don't feel guilty for being honest and open about how I felt. It took me awhile to really miss Adam. We'd been fighting a lot, and I was relieved to have a bit of space between us at first. I was angry. It was nice at first, to have alone time, to not be fighting or have our home be it's own war zone. Who knows now what it was all about; but we weren't on the same page. I'm sure a bit of it had to do with him leaving, on his part..the stress, the sadness of leaving his baby. I don't want to reopen old wounds by trying to psychoanalyze our relationship anymore than I already have. (and we know how I obsess, so I have done plently of overanalysis). But, I was angry. I did eventually cool off to a point where I started to appreciate what he went through on a daily basis when he was home. I was getting tired, overwhelmed, overworked, overstressed, confused about how to raise our daughter by myself. I stressed about what he would think of the job I'd been doing while he was gone - with the car, the house, the baby. It's all too easy to judge when you've never walked in the other person's shoes. I thought about how he'd worked from 5 am to 5pm and how I'd been unrelenting on needing help the moment we got home. I thought about how I felt when I came home, how I had to push through to get dinner done and dishes and manage to have patience with Taylor when she made enormous messes. I thought of all this, and I forgave him. I forgave him for his impatience, for his irritability. I finally understood. And I also appreciated him more. He was always a great dad, and has over the years become a pretty good husband. (Yes, I am aware that I am no stepford wife myself.)
So when he came home and we saw him for the first time; the awkwardness was malleable - we knew it was there (or at least I did) and I hoped it would change. Taylor didn't know him, and he'd come with a teddy bear; which warmed her but not quite enough to allow him to hug or carry her. The hurt was visible on his face, and my heart wrenched for him. I felt awful, because I knew she'd react this way; but I knew that he'd hoped she wouldn't. A few days, I told him, and they'd be inseperable.
He seemed tired, exhausted from travel and now his face wore her rejection so painfully. His face was twisted for the next two days as he fought to win her love, and every time, it looked as though he might cry.
If Adam is known for anything though, it's his persistence. He didn't give up, patiently receiving any attention or affection she'd choose to lavish upon him. One of the first intimacies she bestowed upon him was kissing him awake when he'd "fallen asleep". He must've played that game with her for hours in those first few days - just for those few precious kisses.
It was hard to watch all this unfold, and be helpless to change the situation. But I knew what was keeping her from leaping forward. It was apparent that there was some conversation that we neeeded to have, some fighting it out we needed to do. We tend to do that. We fight each other to love each other. Sometimes, we need a healthy dose of drinks, conversation, and tears. Sometimes, that's what it takes for us to come back to each other.
For me, it was the unspoken and untalked about maybechoice that I'd made while he was gone. Having more children; like the actual pregnancy and childbirth process was horrific for me - physically and emotionally. I am truly terrified of ever doing it again and would be perfectly content not to. (on the other hand, it would be great to have bunches of whittle t's...I'm just afraid of not making it through another one) I didn't tell him any of that while he was gone, because it just isn't a conversation you have over skype. I was terrified that it would be a deal breaker for him. Through our drunken tears and (yes, both of us lol) we came to a compromise. We'd do all the research on what it would mean if we did it again; but he'd love me even if I never could bring myself to go through it again. Of course, he wants a son or even another daughter; but he understood my fear. It was as though someone had made me weightless in that moment. My shoulders felt normal again, not weighted down with fear of wife failure. Who knows what else we talked about, but the next day...we were us again.
I think it may have been that day that Taylor fell in love with her daddy. It was the first time that she wanted him and not mommy. I didn't feel rejected; in fact, I felt quite the opposite. We were a family and a whole one again. We had a few days before the parents-in-law joined us (and an extra one due to 1435650 inches of snow in Maryland) and they were glorious. I fell in love with Taylor's daddy again, and we were complete. I wasn't worried about our marriage anymore, and was quickly remembering everything I love about this man of mine.
When the parents arrived, I was asleep because it was so late; but the guest room was ready and they came in with no problems. I must say that I am (and I'm not saying this because I know they read it, lol) really lucky because I have great in laws. Yes, they have different political views, and I know they hate that I don't call more; but they are great. We had a blast with them, and mostly for the first few days - we stayed home. Poor Mom2 got sick and had a bad cold the first few days, so she wasn't really in the mood to be out and about which was fine because we all hung around and got to know each other again. We played card games, which I miserably lost; Adam and his dad installed his new car stereo and hydraulic hood lifter things for his car, they moved the chandelier to hang over the dining room table in it's new location and installed a fan where it used to be.
I even went to Lowe's with Adam and his dad one day while Mom2 stayed home with the punkus maximus. I must say, I did know better when they had a list of things to get for the fan and chandelier move, and they said "We'll meet you in the fan section. We'll just be five minutes." I knew. I knew.
I found a fan, had it picked out and on a cart; and also had a new towelbar for the one that broke in the powder room within fifteen minutes.
We were there for two hours.
I tease, but I am grateful for the amazing job that they did. They also installed the new towel bar, a motion sensing light for the garage, new dimmer switch for the chandelier, and figured out that the light switch that I thought for the last 3.5 years that went to nothing- goes to the outlet that I thought for the last 3.5 years was broken.
Try to contain your laughter.
Adam had a great visit with his dad, and I enjoyed having another woman around; especially one with experience that could reassure me when I wasn't clear on Miss Taylor's behavior. Mom2 had some great ideas, of which I have employed some of them already. For instance, when Taylor refuses socks; I hold up two pairs and let her choose. Then if she still refuses, I remind her that she already chose one. Believe it or not, it mostly works. Even when she still refuses, it's much less assertive and almost like she knows I got her. lol. (her daddy's daughter...logical)
I enjoyed that Adam did have one day of pure Taylor without anyone around while I worked. It helped him to also see what I have been going through while he was gone. I think he thought it was a lot easier. He tended to give me less of a hard time about why certain things weren't done once he had a taste of trying to vacuum while Taylor sitting. He did say that day that they were having too much fun for a nap. Good, I thought, because I knew that was an awesome day for both of them.
He taught her how to jump around like a frog going "ribbit ribbit"; only she says "riddit riddit". He taught her to oohooh ahh ahh like a monkey, and to tittle tittle (tickle tickle). She saw him naked when he was getting into the shower one day, and it was hilarious for me and totally awkward for them. She looked, then looked away, then looked back and stared. Right. At. His. Penis. I bursted into laughter at the perplexed look on her face, and he turned away quickly, thoroughly embarrassed. I explained the usual, daddy's a boy; etc. It had no effect and she kept trying to peek in on his shower. I'm sure she was wondering where his "gyna" was.
I dealt with awkward texts from family members (ehem, dad) in all caps asking about my hemmorhoids and such. LOL
Serves me right for blogging it. Adam and the parents, also wise to the wax situation, all laughed at me about it.
We had a Taylor free day, and she went to Darina's and stayed late while we went to Bodies - The Exhibition and the Melting Pot for dinner. It was tremendous. The next day we all, including the Delmos (who also joined us for the melting pot dinner fresh from buying Delmo a new Chevy truck (and it's super nice)), went to the Woodland Park Zoo; which is a phenominal zoo. Taylor loved it; and still my favorite exhibit is the gorillas.
The parents left, and Adam stayed two more days; we tried to remain cheerful and excited; but his impending departure loomed like Seattle rain clouds in January. This was a truly wonderful visit. I loved every second of him, and am reminded again why we do what we do every day. I know why we suffer through all the mediocre, stressful, lonely days. Because the ones we have together, they make it totally worth the sacrafice. I love my husband and I can't wait until he comes home again.
As he was to arrive, I went through the gamut of emotions. I felt anxious, nervous, excited, really excited, then really really excited.
Taylor and I went to the airport and we were a touch early, so we waited by the bag claim. I was really anxious, because before he'd left, we'd been sort of out of sorts. I have to be totally honest, here; now that I feel differently; I don't feel guilty for being honest and open about how I felt. It took me awhile to really miss Adam. We'd been fighting a lot, and I was relieved to have a bit of space between us at first. I was angry. It was nice at first, to have alone time, to not be fighting or have our home be it's own war zone. Who knows now what it was all about; but we weren't on the same page. I'm sure a bit of it had to do with him leaving, on his part..the stress, the sadness of leaving his baby. I don't want to reopen old wounds by trying to psychoanalyze our relationship anymore than I already have. (and we know how I obsess, so I have done plently of overanalysis). But, I was angry. I did eventually cool off to a point where I started to appreciate what he went through on a daily basis when he was home. I was getting tired, overwhelmed, overworked, overstressed, confused about how to raise our daughter by myself. I stressed about what he would think of the job I'd been doing while he was gone - with the car, the house, the baby. It's all too easy to judge when you've never walked in the other person's shoes. I thought about how he'd worked from 5 am to 5pm and how I'd been unrelenting on needing help the moment we got home. I thought about how I felt when I came home, how I had to push through to get dinner done and dishes and manage to have patience with Taylor when she made enormous messes. I thought of all this, and I forgave him. I forgave him for his impatience, for his irritability. I finally understood. And I also appreciated him more. He was always a great dad, and has over the years become a pretty good husband. (Yes, I am aware that I am no stepford wife myself.)
So when he came home and we saw him for the first time; the awkwardness was malleable - we knew it was there (or at least I did) and I hoped it would change. Taylor didn't know him, and he'd come with a teddy bear; which warmed her but not quite enough to allow him to hug or carry her. The hurt was visible on his face, and my heart wrenched for him. I felt awful, because I knew she'd react this way; but I knew that he'd hoped she wouldn't. A few days, I told him, and they'd be inseperable.
He seemed tired, exhausted from travel and now his face wore her rejection so painfully. His face was twisted for the next two days as he fought to win her love, and every time, it looked as though he might cry.
If Adam is known for anything though, it's his persistence. He didn't give up, patiently receiving any attention or affection she'd choose to lavish upon him. One of the first intimacies she bestowed upon him was kissing him awake when he'd "fallen asleep". He must've played that game with her for hours in those first few days - just for those few precious kisses.
It was hard to watch all this unfold, and be helpless to change the situation. But I knew what was keeping her from leaping forward. It was apparent that there was some conversation that we neeeded to have, some fighting it out we needed to do. We tend to do that. We fight each other to love each other. Sometimes, we need a healthy dose of drinks, conversation, and tears. Sometimes, that's what it takes for us to come back to each other.
For me, it was the unspoken and untalked about maybechoice that I'd made while he was gone. Having more children; like the actual pregnancy and childbirth process was horrific for me - physically and emotionally. I am truly terrified of ever doing it again and would be perfectly content not to. (on the other hand, it would be great to have bunches of whittle t's...I'm just afraid of not making it through another one) I didn't tell him any of that while he was gone, because it just isn't a conversation you have over skype. I was terrified that it would be a deal breaker for him. Through our drunken tears and (yes, both of us lol) we came to a compromise. We'd do all the research on what it would mean if we did it again; but he'd love me even if I never could bring myself to go through it again. Of course, he wants a son or even another daughter; but he understood my fear. It was as though someone had made me weightless in that moment. My shoulders felt normal again, not weighted down with fear of wife failure. Who knows what else we talked about, but the next day...we were us again.
I think it may have been that day that Taylor fell in love with her daddy. It was the first time that she wanted him and not mommy. I didn't feel rejected; in fact, I felt quite the opposite. We were a family and a whole one again. We had a few days before the parents-in-law joined us (and an extra one due to 1435650 inches of snow in Maryland) and they were glorious. I fell in love with Taylor's daddy again, and we were complete. I wasn't worried about our marriage anymore, and was quickly remembering everything I love about this man of mine.
When the parents arrived, I was asleep because it was so late; but the guest room was ready and they came in with no problems. I must say that I am (and I'm not saying this because I know they read it, lol) really lucky because I have great in laws. Yes, they have different political views, and I know they hate that I don't call more; but they are great. We had a blast with them, and mostly for the first few days - we stayed home. Poor Mom2 got sick and had a bad cold the first few days, so she wasn't really in the mood to be out and about which was fine because we all hung around and got to know each other again. We played card games, which I miserably lost; Adam and his dad installed his new car stereo and hydraulic hood lifter things for his car, they moved the chandelier to hang over the dining room table in it's new location and installed a fan where it used to be.
I even went to Lowe's with Adam and his dad one day while Mom2 stayed home with the punkus maximus. I must say, I did know better when they had a list of things to get for the fan and chandelier move, and they said "We'll meet you in the fan section. We'll just be five minutes." I knew. I knew.
I found a fan, had it picked out and on a cart; and also had a new towelbar for the one that broke in the powder room within fifteen minutes.
We were there for two hours.
I tease, but I am grateful for the amazing job that they did. They also installed the new towel bar, a motion sensing light for the garage, new dimmer switch for the chandelier, and figured out that the light switch that I thought for the last 3.5 years that went to nothing- goes to the outlet that I thought for the last 3.5 years was broken.
Try to contain your laughter.
Adam had a great visit with his dad, and I enjoyed having another woman around; especially one with experience that could reassure me when I wasn't clear on Miss Taylor's behavior. Mom2 had some great ideas, of which I have employed some of them already. For instance, when Taylor refuses socks; I hold up two pairs and let her choose. Then if she still refuses, I remind her that she already chose one. Believe it or not, it mostly works. Even when she still refuses, it's much less assertive and almost like she knows I got her. lol. (her daddy's daughter...logical)
I enjoyed that Adam did have one day of pure Taylor without anyone around while I worked. It helped him to also see what I have been going through while he was gone. I think he thought it was a lot easier. He tended to give me less of a hard time about why certain things weren't done once he had a taste of trying to vacuum while Taylor sitting. He did say that day that they were having too much fun for a nap. Good, I thought, because I knew that was an awesome day for both of them.
He taught her how to jump around like a frog going "ribbit ribbit"; only she says "riddit riddit". He taught her to oohooh ahh ahh like a monkey, and to tittle tittle (tickle tickle). She saw him naked when he was getting into the shower one day, and it was hilarious for me and totally awkward for them. She looked, then looked away, then looked back and stared. Right. At. His. Penis. I bursted into laughter at the perplexed look on her face, and he turned away quickly, thoroughly embarrassed. I explained the usual, daddy's a boy; etc. It had no effect and she kept trying to peek in on his shower. I'm sure she was wondering where his "gyna" was.
I dealt with awkward texts from family members (ehem, dad) in all caps asking about my hemmorhoids and such. LOL
Serves me right for blogging it. Adam and the parents, also wise to the wax situation, all laughed at me about it.
We had a Taylor free day, and she went to Darina's and stayed late while we went to Bodies - The Exhibition and the Melting Pot for dinner. It was tremendous. The next day we all, including the Delmos (who also joined us for the melting pot dinner fresh from buying Delmo a new Chevy truck (and it's super nice)), went to the Woodland Park Zoo; which is a phenominal zoo. Taylor loved it; and still my favorite exhibit is the gorillas.
The parents left, and Adam stayed two more days; we tried to remain cheerful and excited; but his impending departure loomed like Seattle rain clouds in January. This was a truly wonderful visit. I loved every second of him, and am reminded again why we do what we do every day. I know why we suffer through all the mediocre, stressful, lonely days. Because the ones we have together, they make it totally worth the sacrafice. I love my husband and I can't wait until he comes home again.
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