Every night I take 10 mg of Zyrtec (Because Tennessee? The allergy CAPITAL of the world) and 10 mg of Singulair (Which is amazing because my asthma is no! more!) and candy that masquerades as Calcium Chews. I always eat the calcium last, because it's like a little good night treat to myself. Its like a "good job! you made it through another day. And you're doing so well fighting osteoporosis!
Some days are so tiring, you just eat the candy-masquerading-as-calcium-chews first. Because you're just so tired.
But good tired. I-worked-hard-and-accomplished-a-lot-today tired.
Tuesday, May 22
Saturday, May 12
Grieving
It is the day before Mothers day.
I am grieving.
I wonder how many of my friends, those that I know have suffered miscarriages or are infertile, are not yet grieving the loss. I wonder what it will be like tomorrow for them. To remember the dream, or the little person, that was never realized.
I wonder about the church service. Will leaders remember the barren?
I look at my scars: the four, tiny, 1 inch incisions my good doctor made to eradicate my disease. They are healed, slightly red, starting to become white and fade. They are hidden. But they are there.
How many hidden scars are there in the women of the church? Tiny, fading, no longer bleeding, no longer scabbed over, but always there?
I remember God's faithfulness, his nearness. The way he has given me faith to endure and faith to learn over a year and a half of painful sunday services. The way he -without fail - brings the image of embracing the cross to my mind as I weep in church. He is faithful to remind me that he is ever present, and that he knows my every tear.
I remember my friends, my oh-so-faithful friends, who are always willing to be there. Always supporting. Always caring. Always praying.
I think about my own mother - and I celebrate her courage, her faithfulness, her transparency, her love. I will celebrate her tomorrow, both privately and publicly.
Today I am grieving.
I am grieving.
I wonder how many of my friends, those that I know have suffered miscarriages or are infertile, are not yet grieving the loss. I wonder what it will be like tomorrow for them. To remember the dream, or the little person, that was never realized.
I wonder about the church service. Will leaders remember the barren?
I look at my scars: the four, tiny, 1 inch incisions my good doctor made to eradicate my disease. They are healed, slightly red, starting to become white and fade. They are hidden. But they are there.
How many hidden scars are there in the women of the church? Tiny, fading, no longer bleeding, no longer scabbed over, but always there?
I remember God's faithfulness, his nearness. The way he has given me faith to endure and faith to learn over a year and a half of painful sunday services. The way he -without fail - brings the image of embracing the cross to my mind as I weep in church. He is faithful to remind me that he is ever present, and that he knows my every tear.
I remember my friends, my oh-so-faithful friends, who are always willing to be there. Always supporting. Always caring. Always praying.
I think about my own mother - and I celebrate her courage, her faithfulness, her transparency, her love. I will celebrate her tomorrow, both privately and publicly.
Today I am grieving.
Thursday, May 3
Eat to Live and Jillian Michaels
I nearly always have to start conversation about nutrition/health/working out with the disclaimer: I absolutely realize that I'm in the healthy range of weight.
ok. now that we have that down.
I also have realized that - HOLY COW- my metabolism is not what it used to be. I was never a healthy eater, nor did I think about systematic exercising when I was in my 20s. I worked out, but lets be honest: it was about vanity and maybe, just maybe, seeing that cute college guy working out in the gym.
Sometime after college, I thought that Taco Bell was legitimate (cheap, right? and TASTY!), and I put on about 15 pounds right out of college. Which is ironic, because I don't think I really gained any weight in college.
In my late 20s, I dropped a few pounds getting ready for my high school's 10th reunion and my sisters wedding, all happening within a few months of each other. Now, THAT was motivation.
Now? I have no motivation. Except to be, you know, healthy.
So I picked up this book called "Eat to Live" on a recommendation. The author is a physician, Dr. Joel Fuhrman, and makes the argument that our bodies will do best, and fight cancer and heart disease best, if we make nutrients a priority and calories...well, not. His little slogan is "Health = Nutrients/Calories."
Yeah, if you did that math right, you're thinking the right thing: Vegetarianism??
And he's not quite a vegetarian, because he admits there are a few positive things about meat, and that people need meat. Because he's a bit fanatical about nutrients and a bit overzealously anti-free-radicals and other things that make me...well, confused about how cancer is created, but whatever. The gist of the book: Eat your dark leafy greens. a lot. Like, 90% of your food ought to be veggies, 10% carbs and meat.
Ok, so that's the first part. Second part:
I am the tiniest bit obsessed with Jillian Michaels.
From the Biggest Loser? Yeah, she cracks. me. up. She's about as boot camp as Dr. Furhman, but she's anti-soy, and he isn't...and .....yeah, you don't care.
But this absolutely made me laugh - late at night - and I love her back and forth with people: "How much red wine?"
Ok, so that's what I've been reading and watching lately. Have I been converted to eating 90% of my calories from veggies?? Well, yes, in theory. But in practice?
Two words: Chicken Chimichanga.
ok. now that we have that down.
I also have realized that - HOLY COW- my metabolism is not what it used to be. I was never a healthy eater, nor did I think about systematic exercising when I was in my 20s. I worked out, but lets be honest: it was about vanity and maybe, just maybe, seeing that cute college guy working out in the gym.
Sometime after college, I thought that Taco Bell was legitimate (cheap, right? and TASTY!), and I put on about 15 pounds right out of college. Which is ironic, because I don't think I really gained any weight in college.
In my late 20s, I dropped a few pounds getting ready for my high school's 10th reunion and my sisters wedding, all happening within a few months of each other. Now, THAT was motivation.
Now? I have no motivation. Except to be, you know, healthy.
So I picked up this book called "Eat to Live" on a recommendation. The author is a physician, Dr. Joel Fuhrman, and makes the argument that our bodies will do best, and fight cancer and heart disease best, if we make nutrients a priority and calories...well, not. His little slogan is "Health = Nutrients/Calories."
Yeah, if you did that math right, you're thinking the right thing: Vegetarianism??
And he's not quite a vegetarian, because he admits there are a few positive things about meat, and that people need meat. Because he's a bit fanatical about nutrients and a bit overzealously anti-free-radicals and other things that make me...well, confused about how cancer is created, but whatever. The gist of the book: Eat your dark leafy greens. a lot. Like, 90% of your food ought to be veggies, 10% carbs and meat.
Ok, so that's the first part. Second part:
I am the tiniest bit obsessed with Jillian Michaels.
From the Biggest Loser? Yeah, she cracks. me. up. She's about as boot camp as Dr. Furhman, but she's anti-soy, and he isn't...and .....yeah, you don't care.
But this absolutely made me laugh - late at night - and I love her back and forth with people: "How much red wine?"
Ok, so that's what I've been reading and watching lately. Have I been converted to eating 90% of my calories from veggies?? Well, yes, in theory. But in practice?
Two words: Chicken Chimichanga.
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