A Grocery Cart to be Proud Of

While the phrase "The waist is a terrible thing to mind" has always made me chuckle, its only true to a certain extent. Those of you who know me in person know that I'm no twiggy. I'm 6' tall and I have always sort of justified my weight by my height. I also have hypothyroidism which makes weight gain very, very easy, and weight loss quite difficult. So there you have my recipe for fitness apathy.

I had a wake up call recently. As you know, I had twins 6 months ago. I only gained 22 lbs the entire pregnancy and the babies were born at 5 lbs 2 oz and 6 lbs 3 oz, so I didn't gain a whole lot of body fat. After they were born, I nursed them for 3 months. Yes, twins, for 3 months. I lost a LOT of weight. I don't own a scale so I don't know how much, but I'd guess around 30 lbs on top of whatever was left of the baby weight. After 3 months, I was just not able to produce enough milk to meet their nutritional demands, AND I went back to work, so I stopped nursing. Anyway, I went to the doctor's last week to get my thyroid levels checked and, as always, they weighed me. Much to my surprise, I had gained back everything. I only weighed 7 lbs less than I did right before the babies were born. Ouch.

Now, I have just about every justification in the world for being overweight. I'm tall. I work full time. I have twin 6-month-olds. I just don't have the time to eat right or exercise. But, at the end of the day, no amount of justification changes the fact that I need to shed a few. Scratch that- a lot.

While I have never been one to do the yo-yo fad diets, I have tried cutting calories in the past. I am usually able to lose about 10 lbs before I end up using all of the old justifications to give up. Like I said before, hypothyroidism makes every pound a fight.

After stepping off of that scale at the doctor's office, I came to a series of realizations.
1. My daughter is already in the 97th percentile for height, even though she was born a month early. She is going to be tall like me.

2. Both of my kids are going to be watching what and how I eat and how I take care of myself. What kind of example am I setting?

While I was in the doctor's office, I decided to bring up the weight-loss issue. I asked her what I could do to affect long-term changes in my weight and my overall health. She told me to cut way back on the carbs. She said that Atkins had it all wrong- all carbs are not created equal. Apparently an apple is not the same as a twinkie. (Seriously, is anyone surprised by this?) She said that the human body can get all the carbohydrates it needs from fruits and vegetables and that breads and pastas should be considered a treat. For some reason, that really clicked. It wasn't really any new information, but the way she phrased it somehow made it easy for me to do.

Since then I have switched to diet soda, cut out the morning bowl of cereal, and added lots more fruits and vegetables. I don't know why, but this time it seems to be working. I don't feel like I'm dieting. Its much easier to look at weight loss in terms of making healthy choices than in terms of what I can and can't have. I'm not perfect at it by any means, but The Hubs and I have almost eliminated white flour from our diets.

The first grocery shopping trip after this decision was awesome. We bought everything from the outside perimeter of the store - deli, produce, dairy, and whole wheat bakery rolls. When we got to the checkout counter and I saw the conveyor belt full of wholesome goodies, I had a real sense of pride.

My one struggle thus far has been finding healthy recipes. It seems like half of the healthy recipes online are for fish, which I'm severely allergic to. So, if anyone has any great healthy recipes to pass on, I'd love to try them!

ps- shellfish is ok, just not fish fish.

What does one say?

I have an friend who is the mother of four less-than-beautiful children. By less-than-beautiful, I mean slightly terrifying. My friend and her husband.... well, lets just say the only runway they've ever been on is at the airport. My friend, (we'll call her..... Quasimodo? That's a little harsh. How about Helen?) Helen, is always emailing pictures of her "gorgeous" children. Even though I know what the emails are going to contain, I still have to repress the impulse to recoil violently.

"So what?" you say. "Big deal! Everyone thinks their own kids are athletic supermodel-geniuses." While this is decidedly true, Helen's fantasy runs a little deeper than most. Helen wants to enter her two youngest daughters (3 and 5) in a beauty pageant.

After the initial shock and subsequent fit of laughter, I became immediately grateful that I received the news in an email and not over the phone. I'm not that good a liar. I replied to the email, stating my feelings about pageants at large (for the record, I abhor them,) and tactfully avoiding discussion of her daughters' err... shortcomings. She replies that she figured that's how I would feel about pageants, but that she wanted to know whether or not HER kids should enter. Since my last email (apparently) wasn't specific enough, I had to employ every ounce of diplomacy I possessed. Ever see the movie "Little Miss Sunshine"? Good. Now imagine that it was a horror film and you'd get the picture. These girls winning a beauty pageant would be like Paris Hilton being awarded the MacArthur Fellowship.

Helen then sent me a recent picture of her 5 year old and another of the dress she was considering buying for her. As the phrase "A face only a mother could love" entered my mind, I was touched by the love-goggles that my friend had for her kids. In her eyes, they are perfect, and I guess that's all that really matters.

Its sweet in a blindly delusional sort of way.

In the Thick of Things

While browsing around the internet today during the rare but blissful synchronized twin nap, I remembered my long-neglected blog. My extended absence from the blogosphere can be attributed to my two little angels who, to protect the not-so-innocent, I will dub Bonnie and Clyde. They were born happy and healthy and currently occupy about 23.75 hours of my day. I did, however, get a little break from them today to go to the dentist. (Notice the distinct absence of angelic choirs.) Temporary filling with a 40% chance of root canal in the near future.

My quest for self-improvement has taken a turn for the... different? While I still aspire to a clean house and a hot dinner on the table, I have had to throw the to-do list out the window and cut myself some slack. As a self-proclaimed type A control freak, this has been no small feat. I have, however, managed to work part time, care for my twins, bake my own bread, make my own butter, keep the kids, The Hubs, and the (now pregnant) dog fed, and still keep the household dirt diwn to an acceptable level. I recently baked a pretty fabulous fruit tart and am currently sewing a dress to wear to my cousin's wedding in May. (Please forgive the somewhat boastful nature of this paragraph. I feel rather entitled to a little back-patting.)

Well. Pardon the abrupt ending to this post, but Clyde is starting to fuss. And there's.... wait for it.... Bonnie yowling as well. Ta Ta.