with a quick post about my latest read. Yes, it's only March 14th and I've already read March's book! Well, I skimmed a lot of it because I found out it really wasn't what I was looking for. The book was The New Strong-Willed Child by Dr. James Dobson.
I wanted to read it to help shed light on Mr. Tucker Shay's stubborness and strong willed nature. Come to find out, my definition of "strong-willed" and the type of child the book addresses are world's apart. I did pick up some helpful general parenting tips, but otherwise I didn't really feel like the book pertained to us.
I know that was a really crappy synopsis and book review, but there it is. Just didn't really get into it, but I am totally excited about my next read!
The next chapter of my weight loss journey coming soon! (if anyone is even reading, haha).
Monday, March 14, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Mind Chatter
So, after reading A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, I decided that one of the parts of my life that needed to be rewritten was my physical health and appearance. If I changed my outward self, I was certain my inner self would follow. I would flourish and grow. I would inspire and teach. And you know what? It's happening and I love it.
But let's go back to the beginning, shall we? And as a reminder, Donald Miller says in his book that we have to do things that are uncomfortable in order to grow, and this post most definitely fits in that category.
I have done countless diets in the past. It all started in high school when I stopped playing softball. It was okay to be 160 pounds when I was playing a sport, sometimes it's nice to have a little weight to throw around (I am 5'6", by the way, in case you don't know me in real life). But it was not okay with me to be 160 when I was done playing and had retired my cleats.
Cue Jenny Craig. I started going to Jenny Craig on a weekly basis. At your weekly appointment, you weigh, talk with your counselor and then choose your prepackaged menu for the week. Aside from the enrollment fee, you have to pay weekly for your foods. The average price per week (and remember, this was circa 1995) was probably $90. The food was okay, there were some things I really loved (French toast with berries, yum!) and there were some things that were vile (oatmeal raisin bar). It took me five months, but I returned to school for my senior year at 130 pounds. I accomplished this, by the way, at the same time I worked at the snack bar at Crestview Country Club. How is that for determination?
Knowing what I do about health and nutrition now, I would never advocate someone going to Jenny Craig. Why? Their foods are largely (genetically modified) soy based (very bad for you, despite what some manufacturers claim) and packaged in plastic containers that are often meant to be microwaved. Plastics leach into foods and are toxic to our bodies, mimicking estrogen and causing a host of health problems. I never microwave in plastic and I have replaced all of my food storage containers with glass. There is some seriously scary stuff going on with our food and food products out there (non-stick pans, plastics, soy, high fructose corn syrup, etc.), but getting on my soapbox about that is not really related to this post, so I will step down until another day...
Ahem. Where was I?
Oh, yes. I was finally skinny and going back for my senior year. I went to a small high school, a whopping 96 kids in my graduating class. I had always been what I would call a floater (no, this is not a poop joke). I fit in with a variety of cliques and just kind of floated between groups. I was friends with the popular girls, I was friends with the nerds, I was friends with the average Joe's. I was just everyone's friend, plain and simple. But I was almost never noticed by the boys. Until I came back skinny.
One would think that would be awesome, right? The whole bad teenage movie of the nerdy girl turned total hotness and homecoming queen happening in your own life? Okay, not total hotness and homecoming queen (however, Snowball Queen nominee, is that close enough?), but you know what I mean. I was finally noticed. And I hated it.
It made me feel resentful and jaded. Why in the world would I give some jerk the time of day just because he is suddenly interested now that my size is smaller? Seriously? How shallow! That Marilyn Monroe quote comes to mind, "...if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." I didn't hear that quote until I was an adult but it definitely sums up how I felt.
Enter, stage left: my first boyfriend. Long story short: we dated for a year, we broke up. Should have been end of story, right? Wrong. His parents said horrible, horrible things about me that got back to me (small town, remember?) and their words affected me very profoundly. Remember the girl I was? I was a nice, naive girl and always rooted for the underdog. I did not deserve the hateful things they said. As an adult, and especially as a mom, I can see how they were huge jerks and it was their problem, not mine, but the 18 year old Me couldn't see that. Present day Katy would have told them where to stick it.
Curious as to what they said? I was 145 pounds (had gained a bit back) and as they were convincing their son to end our relationship, they decided to hit me below the belt and attack my physical appearance. The phrase that affected me the most was, "she's fat and she's just going to get fatter." Yep. That was their entire case against me. Kudos to them.
Hearing that crushed me more than I can really explain. I was so fortunate in school to be in the role of "everyone's friend," that I never had to deal with being teased or picked on. This was really my first experience with anything bad being said about me, and it was hard. It was very hard. Their words became my new inner dialogue and I began to believe it. I let those mean words become the thing I would repeat to myself several times a day.
Those words kept me from eating a morsel for two entire weeks. I dropped weight. Fast. My parents threatened to hospitalize me if I didn't start eating. So I would pretend to take bites, scoot food around on my plate, cover it with my napkin, etc. I lost twenty pounds in two weeks. Anytime I felt hungry, I would just think about what they said, and would instantly lose my appetite.
And then the town started talking again. "psssst..Katy Schrag is anorexic, have you seen her?" And you know what that did? It fueled my fire. It kept me going down that path, I never wanted to be called fat again. I did all kinds of messed up things including drinking mouthwash and syrup of ipecac to make myself vomit (which it didn't work, it just gave me an upset stomach for an entire day), handfuls of diet pills daily, diuretics, starving myself for days at a time, not sleeping because of the ephedra in the diet pills, hours upon hours of exercise...you get the idea.
And that, my friends, is how I became the overexercising, eating disordered person I referenced in my previous post. To be continued, yet again......
But let's go back to the beginning, shall we? And as a reminder, Donald Miller says in his book that we have to do things that are uncomfortable in order to grow, and this post most definitely fits in that category.
I have done countless diets in the past. It all started in high school when I stopped playing softball. It was okay to be 160 pounds when I was playing a sport, sometimes it's nice to have a little weight to throw around (I am 5'6", by the way, in case you don't know me in real life). But it was not okay with me to be 160 when I was done playing and had retired my cleats.
Cue Jenny Craig. I started going to Jenny Craig on a weekly basis. At your weekly appointment, you weigh, talk with your counselor and then choose your prepackaged menu for the week. Aside from the enrollment fee, you have to pay weekly for your foods. The average price per week (and remember, this was circa 1995) was probably $90. The food was okay, there were some things I really loved (French toast with berries, yum!) and there were some things that were vile (oatmeal raisin bar). It took me five months, but I returned to school for my senior year at 130 pounds. I accomplished this, by the way, at the same time I worked at the snack bar at Crestview Country Club. How is that for determination?
Knowing what I do about health and nutrition now, I would never advocate someone going to Jenny Craig. Why? Their foods are largely (genetically modified) soy based (very bad for you, despite what some manufacturers claim) and packaged in plastic containers that are often meant to be microwaved. Plastics leach into foods and are toxic to our bodies, mimicking estrogen and causing a host of health problems. I never microwave in plastic and I have replaced all of my food storage containers with glass. There is some seriously scary stuff going on with our food and food products out there (non-stick pans, plastics, soy, high fructose corn syrup, etc.), but getting on my soapbox about that is not really related to this post, so I will step down until another day...
Ahem. Where was I?
Oh, yes. I was finally skinny and going back for my senior year. I went to a small high school, a whopping 96 kids in my graduating class. I had always been what I would call a floater (no, this is not a poop joke). I fit in with a variety of cliques and just kind of floated between groups. I was friends with the popular girls, I was friends with the nerds, I was friends with the average Joe's. I was just everyone's friend, plain and simple. But I was almost never noticed by the boys. Until I came back skinny.
One would think that would be awesome, right? The whole bad teenage movie of the nerdy girl turned total hotness and homecoming queen happening in your own life? Okay, not total hotness and homecoming queen (however, Snowball Queen nominee, is that close enough?), but you know what I mean. I was finally noticed. And I hated it.
It made me feel resentful and jaded. Why in the world would I give some jerk the time of day just because he is suddenly interested now that my size is smaller? Seriously? How shallow! That Marilyn Monroe quote comes to mind, "...if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." I didn't hear that quote until I was an adult but it definitely sums up how I felt.
Enter, stage left: my first boyfriend. Long story short: we dated for a year, we broke up. Should have been end of story, right? Wrong. His parents said horrible, horrible things about me that got back to me (small town, remember?) and their words affected me very profoundly. Remember the girl I was? I was a nice, naive girl and always rooted for the underdog. I did not deserve the hateful things they said. As an adult, and especially as a mom, I can see how they were huge jerks and it was their problem, not mine, but the 18 year old Me couldn't see that. Present day Katy would have told them where to stick it.
Curious as to what they said? I was 145 pounds (had gained a bit back) and as they were convincing their son to end our relationship, they decided to hit me below the belt and attack my physical appearance. The phrase that affected me the most was, "she's fat and she's just going to get fatter." Yep. That was their entire case against me. Kudos to them.
Hearing that crushed me more than I can really explain. I was so fortunate in school to be in the role of "everyone's friend," that I never had to deal with being teased or picked on. This was really my first experience with anything bad being said about me, and it was hard. It was very hard. Their words became my new inner dialogue and I began to believe it. I let those mean words become the thing I would repeat to myself several times a day.
Those words kept me from eating a morsel for two entire weeks. I dropped weight. Fast. My parents threatened to hospitalize me if I didn't start eating. So I would pretend to take bites, scoot food around on my plate, cover it with my napkin, etc. I lost twenty pounds in two weeks. Anytime I felt hungry, I would just think about what they said, and would instantly lose my appetite.
And then the town started talking again. "psssst..Katy Schrag is anorexic, have you seen her?" And you know what that did? It fueled my fire. It kept me going down that path, I never wanted to be called fat again. I did all kinds of messed up things including drinking mouthwash and syrup of ipecac to make myself vomit (which it didn't work, it just gave me an upset stomach for an entire day), handfuls of diet pills daily, diuretics, starving myself for days at a time, not sleeping because of the ephedra in the diet pills, hours upon hours of exercise...you get the idea.
And that, my friends, is how I became the overexercising, eating disordered person I referenced in my previous post. To be continued, yet again......
Monday, March 7, 2011
Worth the Weight?
I really don't like talking about my weight. It's uncomfortable and embarrassing and obsessing over it has consumed way too much of my brain activity. For the past twelve years I have really struggled and I am excited that I am finally making progress in the right direction, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can meet (and maybe even exceed) my goals.
When I met Ryan, I was a size 4, 126 pounds, and ran on a regular basis. To the outside world, I appeared to be extremely healthy. Except I was exactly the opposite of healthy. I was starving myself for several days, and when I would finally eat, it would be total crap like Cheez-Its and Dr. Pepper. Then I would overexercise (we're talking like 3 hours on the treadmill) to compensate. I also took evil little diet pills called Diet Fuel and diuretics daily. Oh, and passed out in the shower on a weekly basis. Oh, and lest I forget, I was a bitch more often than I was nice.
When I met Ryan, I was a size 4, 126 pounds, and ran on a regular basis. To the outside world, I appeared to be extremely healthy. Except I was exactly the opposite of healthy. I was starving myself for several days, and when I would finally eat, it would be total crap like Cheez-Its and Dr. Pepper. Then I would overexercise (we're talking like 3 hours on the treadmill) to compensate. I also took evil little diet pills called Diet Fuel and diuretics daily. Oh, and passed out in the shower on a weekly basis. Oh, and lest I forget, I was a bitch more often than I was nice.
(Katy-Food)+Diet Pills=Not A Nice Girl
The Skinny Bitch
After I met Ryan, I didn't want to be the annoying girl who only ordered salads or who picked at my food on dates so I started eating like a normal person again. And then before I knew it, my portion sizes were mirroring his. My weight was increasing at an alarming rate. I'm talking like thirty pounds in a year. Over our dating years, my weight continued to creep up and even though I was aware of what was happening, it was almost like I didn't care and was powerless to stop it anyways. Maybe in a sense I was testing our relationship to see if Ryan would love me fat like he loved me skinny? Hmm....
One year of dating, up about 30 pounds. I remember feeling so fat that weekend, I had just gone up another size in pants.
Apparently he did, because he proposed at my heaviest and I immediately began planning the big wedding weight loss. I decided what size I wanted to be at my wedding and ordered my dress five sizes smaller than what I was. What? I work well with deadlines.
I lost 50 pounds in 5 months by doing a low carbohydrate diet. I felt fantastic! I fit into my dress and even had to have it taken in a little bit! Booya!
Wedding weight loss success!
After the wedding, I promised myself I would never go back. But I did. The weight crept up a little at a time and soon I was back to square one. Seven years of marriage and two kids later, my weight seemed to hover at the same place, not getting worse but certainly not getting better. After weaning Tucker, my weight shot up about twenty pounds very quickly, I guess because I didn't adjust my eating habits when my milk production decreased. When I stepped on the scale last summer and saw that I weighed what I did at delivery with both kids, I knew something had to change.
A week before Chloe was born, I weighed the same last summer in a non-pregnant state. Really, Katy? Really?
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Ina May's Guide to Childbirth
by Ina May Gaskin
First, NO, I'm not pregnant.
I am, however, really trying to think through some things and where my path is leading and one of the options I have before me is to become a certified doula through DONA. It is something I've wanted to do since college but I've never taken the time, or budgeted for that matter, to make it happen. You don't have to be certified to be a doula but I love to have the appropriate credentials behind anything I do so it just makes sense to me.
Since I feel like I want to sit and think on following through on this path, I decided to go ahead and read some of the required reading for the certification. I am passionate and interested in natural labor and childbirth anyways so I was hoping to learn more about the process and techniques for coping for my future labor(s).
The first half of the book is a compilation of natural birth stories. Ina May is a midwife and she lives on a kind of hippie compound in Tennessee called The Farm. These people are, um, different. I have to admit, I didn't really enjoy the first half of the book. Although I am more natural minded than most in my area, some of these stories had components that totally made me think these people are part of a cult. Seriously. I am still wondering.
The second half of the book, I really enjoyed. It was about the mechanics of birth and how and why things happen when birth is left in a natural, organic state. I won't step onto my soapbox about medically managed pregnancies, births & labors, but I would encourage every woman to read, research and decide on her own and to never have blind faith in the medical community. Doing so is irresponsible, regardless of condition or disease (pregnancy is not a disease, by the way, and shouldn't be treated as such). Doctors are not gods and they do not know all.
After reading the book, I was no closer to making a decision on becoming a certified doula so I'm going to let the thought marinate a bit longer. I have another idea I am considering too that I will post about soon!
First, NO, I'm not pregnant.
I am, however, really trying to think through some things and where my path is leading and one of the options I have before me is to become a certified doula through DONA. It is something I've wanted to do since college but I've never taken the time, or budgeted for that matter, to make it happen. You don't have to be certified to be a doula but I love to have the appropriate credentials behind anything I do so it just makes sense to me.
Since I feel like I want to sit and think on following through on this path, I decided to go ahead and read some of the required reading for the certification. I am passionate and interested in natural labor and childbirth anyways so I was hoping to learn more about the process and techniques for coping for my future labor(s).
The first half of the book is a compilation of natural birth stories. Ina May is a midwife and she lives on a kind of hippie compound in Tennessee called The Farm. These people are, um, different. I have to admit, I didn't really enjoy the first half of the book. Although I am more natural minded than most in my area, some of these stories had components that totally made me think these people are part of a cult. Seriously. I am still wondering.
The second half of the book, I really enjoyed. It was about the mechanics of birth and how and why things happen when birth is left in a natural, organic state. I won't step onto my soapbox about medically managed pregnancies, births & labors, but I would encourage every woman to read, research and decide on her own and to never have blind faith in the medical community. Doing so is irresponsible, regardless of condition or disease (pregnancy is not a disease, by the way, and shouldn't be treated as such). Doctors are not gods and they do not know all.
After reading the book, I was no closer to making a decision on becoming a certified doula so I'm going to let the thought marinate a bit longer. I have another idea I am considering too that I will post about soon!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
A Million Miles in a Thousand Years
by Donald Miller.
One of my (many) resolutions is to read one book per month this year. I am not a reader, I don't particularly enjoy it, but I recognize its importance so I am making an effort.
I first heard of this book on one of my favorite blogs (Enjoying the Small Things by Kelle Hampton). I am so glad I decided to start with this book, the chapters are very short, from a page and a half to three pages. James Patterson does the same thing and I think it's a trick that entices you to keep reading "just one more chapter." The book was an easy read, and I chuckled quite a few times.
The whole premise is that we should all view our lives as a screenplay and we should write the characters we wish to become, and write the stories that are worth living. So many of us get caught up in the daily grind and more often than not, we are just going through the motions without anything interesting or exciting happening to us. If you were to ask yourself if an audience would be bored with your story, what would the answer be? My audience would be asleep in five minutes, or out at the ticket office asking for a refund!
Some of my character flaws that I need to challenge this year?
1) I am not adventurous at.all. Period. I am a creature of habit and the unknown makes me super uncomfortable.
2) I am shy, which I just recently discovered during my RAK challenge and in Target the other day when a simple conversation with another mom in the baby aisle gave me sweaty palms.
3) I have been told by many, many people that their first impression of me is that I was intimidating. I think that stems from me being shy, coupled with the fact that I don't smile a lot. Damn braces in my teen years made me paranoid to smile and it became a habit.
4) In high school, I was voted two things my senior year: Best Sense of Humor and Most Inspiring. Over the years since high school, I feel like I have lost touch with those two qualities. I need to find a way for those attributes to rise to the top.
5) I need to lose weight. I am well on my way (down 36 lbs. so far, woot!), and I know myself. Once I am back to my PR (pre-Ryan) weight, I know that my confidence will increase which will take care of smiling more and being less shy.
I am going to work on making a list of things that I want to do this year in order to develop my character and write a different story for myself. Exciting thing just don't happen, you have to make them happen.
One of my (many) resolutions is to read one book per month this year. I am not a reader, I don't particularly enjoy it, but I recognize its importance so I am making an effort.
I first heard of this book on one of my favorite blogs (Enjoying the Small Things by Kelle Hampton). I am so glad I decided to start with this book, the chapters are very short, from a page and a half to three pages. James Patterson does the same thing and I think it's a trick that entices you to keep reading "just one more chapter." The book was an easy read, and I chuckled quite a few times.
The whole premise is that we should all view our lives as a screenplay and we should write the characters we wish to become, and write the stories that are worth living. So many of us get caught up in the daily grind and more often than not, we are just going through the motions without anything interesting or exciting happening to us. If you were to ask yourself if an audience would be bored with your story, what would the answer be? My audience would be asleep in five minutes, or out at the ticket office asking for a refund!
Some of my character flaws that I need to challenge this year?
1) I am not adventurous at.all. Period. I am a creature of habit and the unknown makes me super uncomfortable.
2) I am shy, which I just recently discovered during my RAK challenge and in Target the other day when a simple conversation with another mom in the baby aisle gave me sweaty palms.
3) I have been told by many, many people that their first impression of me is that I was intimidating. I think that stems from me being shy, coupled with the fact that I don't smile a lot. Damn braces in my teen years made me paranoid to smile and it became a habit.
4) In high school, I was voted two things my senior year: Best Sense of Humor and Most Inspiring. Over the years since high school, I feel like I have lost touch with those two qualities. I need to find a way for those attributes to rise to the top.
5) I need to lose weight. I am well on my way (down 36 lbs. so far, woot!), and I know myself. Once I am back to my PR (pre-Ryan) weight, I know that my confidence will increase which will take care of smiling more and being less shy.
I am going to work on making a list of things that I want to do this year in order to develop my character and write a different story for myself. Exciting thing just don't happen, you have to make them happen.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Rock Stars!
So, I have been following Kelle Hampton's blog, Enjoying The Small Things for almost a year now. The link to her blog made its way to me via my mom, who warned me to read it when I had time to sob like a baby. I went to the site and immediately closed the page. Not knowing what the blog was about, all I saw was that the blog post was about a birth. Being a Mom to a new baby at the time, I feared the the blog was related to fetal demise and I just couldn't bring myself to read it.
After my mom and sister reassured me that the post was not about a loss, I agreed to read it. Holy crap. Not only did I sob, I was nearly inconsolable. Not only is Kelle an amazing writer, she has incredible, emotional photography to help her illustrate her words. From the first post I read, I was hooked. Chloe was still a little peanut at the time and I would lay in bed with her at night while she nursed, with my netbook propped up on pillows. And I read. And read. And read. Every night I read until I had read the entire blog, from beginning to end. You can read about Nella's Birth Story by clicking here .
I have fallen in love with this family over the past year. Kelle's creativity helps me foster my own, and her girls are just precious! Nella turns one a a couple of weeks and there is a fundraiser in her honor. If you are touched by this family like I was (and still am), please consider making a donation. You can read about donating by going to today's post on the blog, or just click this link. For a mere $5 donation, you can help Nella's Rockstars make a huge impact on children just like this sweet little punkin'! I know I don't have a large readership, and that's on purpose, I am a pretty private person, but if anyone out there is indeed reading, please consider making today a charitable one!
S
After my mom and sister reassured me that the post was not about a loss, I agreed to read it. Holy crap. Not only did I sob, I was nearly inconsolable. Not only is Kelle an amazing writer, she has incredible, emotional photography to help her illustrate her words. From the first post I read, I was hooked. Chloe was still a little peanut at the time and I would lay in bed with her at night while she nursed, with my netbook propped up on pillows. And I read. And read. And read. Every night I read until I had read the entire blog, from beginning to end. You can read about Nella's Birth Story by clicking here .
I have fallen in love with this family over the past year. Kelle's creativity helps me foster my own, and her girls are just precious! Nella turns one a a couple of weeks and there is a fundraiser in her honor. If you are touched by this family like I was (and still am), please consider making a donation. You can read about donating by going to today's post on the blog, or just click this link. For a mere $5 donation, you can help Nella's Rockstars make a huge impact on children just like this sweet little punkin'! I know I don't have a large readership, and that's on purpose, I am a pretty private person, but if anyone out there is indeed reading, please consider making today a charitable one!
S
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Schwety Starbucks.
So, I failed miserably at my whole "32 Random Acts of Katy (Kindness)" this year. My first goal was to complete all 32 acts in May. Didn't happen. I extended my deadline to the end of the year. Didn't happen.
I would normally say "I suck," and obsess over my failure, but I have to remember that I still did more nice things for strangers than I would normally do so I guess it was a mediocre success? What I didn't expect to discover is that I'm still painfully shy.
My mom and my sister are laughing right now because I doubt either one of them would describe me that way. Let me rephrase: I am painfully shy when I am not in my own element.
I tended to commit random acts that were "faceless." Buying a drink in the Starbucks drive thru is easy because you have driven off before the person knows what you did. Collecting grocery carts is easy because the grocery store employee is probably never even going to realize you did it. The acts I committed that required direct conversation or interaction with others made me extremely uncomfortable and schwety.
I definitely learned something from this. Before trying this, I *might* have described myself as outgoing. Now? Definitely an introvert. Definitely.
I would normally say "I suck," and obsess over my failure, but I have to remember that I still did more nice things for strangers than I would normally do so I guess it was a mediocre success? What I didn't expect to discover is that I'm still painfully shy.
My mom and my sister are laughing right now because I doubt either one of them would describe me that way. Let me rephrase: I am painfully shy when I am not in my own element.
I tended to commit random acts that were "faceless." Buying a drink in the Starbucks drive thru is easy because you have driven off before the person knows what you did. Collecting grocery carts is easy because the grocery store employee is probably never even going to realize you did it. The acts I committed that required direct conversation or interaction with others made me extremely uncomfortable and schwety.
I definitely learned something from this. Before trying this, I *might* have described myself as outgoing. Now? Definitely an introvert. Definitely.
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