I have been trying to lose weight for quite a few years. Let's see, how old are the children? That's how long I've been trying to get back to my pre-children, just married bod. And that's not even my lowest weight. That's the weight I felt like I could be flexible in what I ate and still feel healthy. (I don't like to say thin. I like to say healthy)
Pretty much, since about the age of 30, I've spent some amount of time in every 10 lb range in the 100s. ((Some of that was when I was pg with the twins. When I was as big as the broad side of the barn))
Four years ago, when everything went to hell in a hand-basket with Bridget's lungs, I had just gotten to my healthy weight. And I compensated for the massive stress I felt with her illness with food and alcohol. I ended up over 2 or 3 years gaining even more weight than I had started out, starting to creep into the I-look-like-I'm-pg-with-twins-but-I'm-not.
So a friend at work started losing weight. And she was working out like a wild woman and she looked very healthy. I decided that my "Just eat healthy food, exercise regularly, and stop obsessing with your weight" diet that hadn't done anything wasn't working.
So I jumped.
I've always lost weight on my own. But my friend was going to clinic. I investigated. It is a mostly low-carb clinic. I balked. I am a runner. I think low carb is bullshit. My friend lost more weight and looked even healthier. I took the plunge.
And now I'm about 23 lbs down officially (although I lost two lbs right before I started due to a para-influenza). And I have about 12 more lbs to go. ((My one counselor thinks this is too much to lose, but the PA at the clinic supports it)) I've been going for 20 weeks. I think I have about 10+ more weeks to go.
Dang it, that's a lot of prelude to the point of this post.
1) I'm going to a Medi Weight Loss Clinic. They are a chain of clinics around the country. I'm learning how to eat a bit differently. I am not going to say I'm eating healthier, because I have *always* been a healthy eater. But I have given up a lot of starches, which is a big change for me. But here's the thing about this clinic: they tell me *to* eat starches because I'm a runner. ((more on that in another post)) Starches are not evil at this place. You do eat them, especially if you are athletic. You just don't each as much as you did and you time them around your exercise.
2) I freaking LOVE the weekly check-in with my counselor. It keeps me accountable. I have accountability each week. I have my favorite counselor that all the athletes fight over seeing. There was a woman in front of me today who didn't get to see J and was cranky about it. I didn't see him either and I was cranky about it. I love J. J knows me and knows what I can and cannot do. This is one of the best parts of this clinic. Plus, with NCBCBS and I'm off most supplements, my visits don't cost me anything. Nada. Outstanding interactions with a great clinic counselor and I'm moving forward on my goals.
3) Nothing has changed. Here's the weird part about losing weight. I am happier when I try on clothes. I have a bigger variety of clothes to choose from. But I'm still me. When I look at myself in the mirror, I don't see anything all that different. There's definitely less of me. But it's still *me*. I know I look different but I'm really exactly the same. If you haven't lost a shit ton of weight, you probably don't know what I'm talking about. Skinny me and fat me are still and always will be ME. Nothing internal or important or substantial changes when you lose weight.
I've done this once before and have ended up model skinny (when I was in my 30s and in the 110s. At 5'8", that is really skinny even though I was still very muscular) So let me say this again:
Nothing internal or important or substantial changes when you lose weight.
Yes, it's easier to considered attractive by society when you are thinner. But not a DAMN thing is different. I really LIKE being thinner. I certainly prefer it. But it's not going to make any major changes to my life or my happiness or my success as a human woman.
So you better damn well like yourself wherever you are on the scale. That is HARD. Trust me! I know how disgusted I felt looking in the mirror before I started. But all that *really* changes is how my clothes fit.
Funny story on how things change in my interactions with others. We went to the minor league baseball game on Friday. (Go Knights!!) While Dave and the kids were away getting snacks and I sat in our seats, some drunk 40 something men came by and there was a seating question. They ended up sitting beside us, but not until one essentially asked if the rest of the people I was sitting with were pretty girls. (I will say that there was a "too" implied but I'm not going to report that's what he actually said) Strange dudes saying anything remotely flirty with me is so far out of my wheelhouse. So far. It's not near my strike-zone. ((Huh! Who knew that wheelhouse was inspired by baseball. I thought it had something to do with boats))
ANYHOOOOOOO. My response to the question of whether the rest of my party was pretty women was a snarky, pretty sharp retort of "THEY ARE MY CHILDREN!!!"
It took my quite a few minutes and more than a few times of replaying the comments in my head to realize someone had been trying to flirt with me. Or at least, this dude thought I had pretty women friends worth flirting with.
So, ummm, weight loss. Yeah. It's nice to be more societally accepted. But it does not change a damn thing. Except, as sociologists would say, it changes everything.
Friday, June 16, 2017
Thursday, June 15, 2017
Feeling the Need to Write (about the Squirrel)
Greetings strange people.
No, you're not supposed to start a blog entry with a greeting, like a diary. But it's been so long since I've updated this blog with something substantial that, well, I felt like I ought to welcome (both of) you back.
So, yeah. I have my YouTube channel. I'm on Facebook and twitter. I have a work webpage and a business one. But sometimes, I need to write. I need to process everything out of my brain via the written word.
So, there are lots of things I need to process in the blog: losing weight and how different that does not make me feel, tidying up the house, my new relaxed approach to gardening, peaking at work in one's 50s, etc.
But today is dedicated to the Squirrel. It's probably going to be the first in a series. But right now, she gets today's brain space.
So, we've known for a while that Bridget is very smart. I hate to say that because it sounds like bragging. But it's clear that Bridget is a clever child. She started talking in 4 word sentences. Her French skills are outstanding; she's almost a native speaker. She can argue like a lawyer, even though she doesn't have all the facts straight. Or maybe *because* she doesn't have all the facts straight. Her math skills are top of the charts. She's a clever little Squirrel.
But she can't read for shit.
And it's been a problem for at least 4 years. When she started writing, she wrote her name in perfect mirror. She will say Ma for Am. She can decode a word in a sentence but when she sees it 4 words later, it's completely foreign to her. Every word is a struggle.
Do you see where I'm going here?
Yeah. We got the final diagnosis 3 weeks ago: Bridget has dyslexia.
But there are several fortunate components to this diagnosis.
First, it is verified that Bridget is a smart kid. As the doc says, she definitely has the horse power in her engine.
Second, she only has one area of dyslexia that's a problem. I'm not going to say which because we are awaiting the final doc report, but it's a common one? An easy one?? One in which the doc thinks that once her special training/tutoring kicks in, she's going to really ramp up on her reading skills.
Third, we are keeping her in French school. Her gift for oral language and know vocabulary is at the top of the charts. It's a real intellectual "gift." I'm not taking that away from my child. And both her teacher and the doc feel that improving reading in one language will boost improvements in reading in the other. It's a decoding problem. Bridget already understands that different languages make different sounds. So decoding a phoneme in English won't impeded decoding a phoneme in French once the tutor helps her brain make the phoneme decoding connection.
We are reading Overcoming Dyslexia, a research based book by a Yale prof on what dyslexia really (differences in brain wiring) and how to help kids and adults improve their writing. Honestly, the stories from the prof's cases are SO CLOSE to Bridget, that I feel like she must be the prototypical dyslexic kid: Smart, talkative, creative, logical, math gifted, and can't read for shit.
We've explained to her that she's a clever child but her brain wiring is different from other kids and that's why she can't read. She was honestly HAPPY to learn that. She knows she can't read and others can. To hear that a doc said she was smart but her brain is wired differently from most kids---but wired similarly to a bunch of other smart kids---was a relief to her.
She's really looking forward to tutoring. She's really looking forward to learning to finally read. She likes being a smart kid who is a little funky.
I'm not going to hide this because there's nothing "wrong" with Bridget. There's nothing wrong with *you* and all *your* funky things. It's what makes us ourselves. I do not ascribe shame to dyslexia and Mama Bear will come out and say some ugly words if anyone tries to shame her for something that she likely inherited. (Yeah. Reading the book, I'm definitely on the dyslexia continuum)
So there. I have a honorary MD in infertility. Our pediatrician has already said that I have an honorary MD in pediatric pulminology. Now, with the blessing and encouragement from the doc who diagnosed Squirrel, it's time for me to get an honorary Master's in Dyslexia tutoring and advocacy. Apparently, this is one dx that all parents *have* to become experts to navigate the public school system and to make sure their child thrives.
Clearly, this is the first in a series of blog posts.....
No, you're not supposed to start a blog entry with a greeting, like a diary. But it's been so long since I've updated this blog with something substantial that, well, I felt like I ought to welcome (both of) you back.
So, yeah. I have my YouTube channel. I'm on Facebook and twitter. I have a work webpage and a business one. But sometimes, I need to write. I need to process everything out of my brain via the written word.
So, there are lots of things I need to process in the blog: losing weight and how different that does not make me feel, tidying up the house, my new relaxed approach to gardening, peaking at work in one's 50s, etc.
But today is dedicated to the Squirrel. It's probably going to be the first in a series. But right now, she gets today's brain space.
So, we've known for a while that Bridget is very smart. I hate to say that because it sounds like bragging. But it's clear that Bridget is a clever child. She started talking in 4 word sentences. Her French skills are outstanding; she's almost a native speaker. She can argue like a lawyer, even though she doesn't have all the facts straight. Or maybe *because* she doesn't have all the facts straight. Her math skills are top of the charts. She's a clever little Squirrel.
But she can't read for shit.
And it's been a problem for at least 4 years. When she started writing, she wrote her name in perfect mirror. She will say Ma for Am. She can decode a word in a sentence but when she sees it 4 words later, it's completely foreign to her. Every word is a struggle.
Do you see where I'm going here?
Yeah. We got the final diagnosis 3 weeks ago: Bridget has dyslexia.
But there are several fortunate components to this diagnosis.
First, it is verified that Bridget is a smart kid. As the doc says, she definitely has the horse power in her engine.
Second, she only has one area of dyslexia that's a problem. I'm not going to say which because we are awaiting the final doc report, but it's a common one? An easy one?? One in which the doc thinks that once her special training/tutoring kicks in, she's going to really ramp up on her reading skills.
Third, we are keeping her in French school. Her gift for oral language and know vocabulary is at the top of the charts. It's a real intellectual "gift." I'm not taking that away from my child. And both her teacher and the doc feel that improving reading in one language will boost improvements in reading in the other. It's a decoding problem. Bridget already understands that different languages make different sounds. So decoding a phoneme in English won't impeded decoding a phoneme in French once the tutor helps her brain make the phoneme decoding connection.
We are reading Overcoming Dyslexia, a research based book by a Yale prof on what dyslexia really (differences in brain wiring) and how to help kids and adults improve their writing. Honestly, the stories from the prof's cases are SO CLOSE to Bridget, that I feel like she must be the prototypical dyslexic kid: Smart, talkative, creative, logical, math gifted, and can't read for shit.
We've explained to her that she's a clever child but her brain wiring is different from other kids and that's why she can't read. She was honestly HAPPY to learn that. She knows she can't read and others can. To hear that a doc said she was smart but her brain is wired differently from most kids---but wired similarly to a bunch of other smart kids---was a relief to her.
She's really looking forward to tutoring. She's really looking forward to learning to finally read. She likes being a smart kid who is a little funky.
I'm not going to hide this because there's nothing "wrong" with Bridget. There's nothing wrong with *you* and all *your* funky things. It's what makes us ourselves. I do not ascribe shame to dyslexia and Mama Bear will come out and say some ugly words if anyone tries to shame her for something that she likely inherited. (Yeah. Reading the book, I'm definitely on the dyslexia continuum)
So there. I have a honorary MD in infertility. Our pediatrician has already said that I have an honorary MD in pediatric pulminology. Now, with the blessing and encouragement from the doc who diagnosed Squirrel, it's time for me to get an honorary Master's in Dyslexia tutoring and advocacy. Apparently, this is one dx that all parents *have* to become experts to navigate the public school system and to make sure their child thrives.
Clearly, this is the first in a series of blog posts.....