IT’s OK. . . .

– to eat generic cheerios for lunch because you haven’t gone grocery shopping

– to unfriend people on facebook that annoy you *everyflippingtime* they post

– to skip a workout in favor of cuddling with your husband

– to screen your calls, work or otherwise

– to sit and read an entire book when you should be doing paperwork

– to spend idle time looking at houses for sale on the internet dreaming of the future

– to cry. at random. without reason

– to admit you need help

– to have a creemee for dinner (soft serve ice cream, for Non-Vermonters)

– to feel overwhelmed by BIG.STRONG.EMOTIONS sometimes

– to wear your jammies all day long

– to leave the air mattress blown up after your guest departs, so you can watch DVD’s laying down in the living room.

It’s all OK, it’s THURSDAY!

Have a good one folks,
Jenn

Who you would have looked like.

I think I’m crazy most days, because by lots of definitions – you never were. You were gone before I even knew you were there. How can I miss you? The very idea of you? I think I miss you because you were so very wanted. Because I don’t know if they will ever be another of you. Because I loved you before you even existed that short time. I think of you often, and can’t express how sorry I am that you are gone.

Love,
The Mom that Almost Was

I wrote this post awhile ago, and Blogger ATE IT. Ahem. So, because I think it’s a good topic, I’m going to blog about it again.

As likely all of you know by know, Casey and I have both lost a significant amount of weight. But like the trauma that I address with the kids I work with, my overweight life has not let me move on.

                                                                      I am a triathlete.

                                                             I look like this today
                                (the day I wrote this actual post – the first time, about a month ago)
                                                   (weight loss maintained for 3 YEARS)

But when I look in the mirror, I don’t see this – any of it.

I see this –

 or,

I can’t look at pictures without critiquing EVERYTHING. My hair, the leftover skin left behind by the weight loss. Oh, it’s bad. I annoy everyone, (even myself) with constant questioning of “Do I look fat?” and so on.

It makes me sad and angry with myself, and I vow over and over again to myself that I will make a more conscious effort to stop – but these negative thoughts pour through my mind on a daily basis.

I’m not the only one – I think women in particular have such struggles with self image, and I am certainly among them. As a gender we have a hard time taking compliments, and a very easy time picking out faults – whether it be wrinkles, collar bones sticking out, gray hear, loose skin, stretch marks, etc.

I can take compliments on my work, my choices, my personality even – but when my husband tells me I am beautiful, I can’t accept that.

In my work, I do a lot with kids around changing negative thought patterns – it’s super hard. We all fall into the traps of negativity, around whatever we feel vulnerable about. My appearance? Makes me feel vulnerable.

I will continue to try and accept the new me, the real me. Someday I do hope to have money to do the surgery to remove the excess skin, especially around my arms – because it keeps me from feeling like I’ve lost any weight at all.

But I need to be gentle with myself, no matter what I look like, because it doesn’t define who I am. What defines who I am, is that I accomplished a huge goal – I reduced so many risk factors for developing health problems, I completed a triathlon with my husband, I am healthy. And that’s what really matters.

So, I encourage you as well – be gentle with yourselves. Maybe we can all learn how to do that, together 🙂

WOW. We got back from our cruise on July 4th, and I feel like I haven’t stopped moving since! Not even enough to sit down and chit chat about how AFREAKINGMAZING our trip was (yeah, that’s a word. promise).

I’m not quite sure how to break it down, but I know this is going to take a few posts because we did and saw a lot. It was overwhelming!

To begin with, my very worst fears came 100% true the day we set off on our adventure. Our flight wasn’t supposed to leave until 1:00pm, so I was scheduled to see a couple of clients in the morning before we left. I went into work, and saw one client, my second cancelled. THANK GOODNESS. Because my second client cancelled, I checked my phone and I had a message from the airline saying that our flight was cancelled. WHAT?! Can they even DO THAT?! (uhm yes, yes they can. Airlines have too much power). They had an earlier flight available, so I drove like a bat out of hell to drop off some paperwork and get to Standish to meet up with Casey. My in-laws were able to bring us to the airport early and dropped us off. We made it with about 20 minutes to spare.

Is that the last of the travel troubles? OH DON’T I WISH.

Once we made it to Newark, NJ (fondly now nicknamed, “Hell on Earth”) we ate lunch. We noticed our gate wasn’t posted for our flight out of the country. We figure, well, we’re a few hours early they must not have an open gate. So we read. We chat. We walk up and down checking the gates. Never comes up. About a hour before our flight, we start to get concerned and go looking for answers (which in the Newark airport are nearly IMPOSSIBLE to get). We got different answers from THREE different people about where we were supposed to be going. By the time we got there, our flight was “locked down” and ready to go. EVEN THOUGH IT WASN’T SCHEDULED TO LEAVE FOR 45 MINUTES. They airline worker LAUGHED at me and said “Oh well, you missed it! Nothing we can do.” I cry. I text my Mom. I cry some more. Casey on the other hand, stayed calm (a true switch of roles).

WELL.

If you know us, you know that the answer “there’s nothing we can do” was not good enough. WE WERE GOING ON A RELAXING EUROPEAN CRUISE ON JUNE 24, 2011 COME HELL OR HIGH WATER (what does that phrase even mean?!)

Anyway. We met an Angel. Not really. But we did meet an amazing Newark worker who helped us get onto another flight to Frankfurt, Germany and then a new connecting flight to Barcelona. Like magic, we were on an international flight and on our way.

The rest of the flying part was relatively uneventful. We learned that international airports (all the ones we visited in Barcelona, Frankfurt, Geneva) were much more calm and peaceful. You don’t have to strip down to your underwear to go through security (though it’s funny to spot the Americans stripping down and taking off shoes while the workers go “no, no! you don’t have to do that!”) In general, the pace of the world seemed much more relaxed outside of the United States.

When we finally made it to Barcelona I nearly cried at the sight of my luggage miraculously arriving with us (despite the flight changes), and the Carnival transportation waiting for us. We made it 20 minutes before our ORIGINAL flight would have made it. That’s how much our Newark Angel helped us. I wish I had gotten her name so I could write a long and flowing note of gratitude. We owe our vacation to her!

                              To say Casey was excited would be a gross understatement. (He’s not a serial killer, promise)

We will be back with another entry on the first half of our vacation: Monacco, Pisa, Naples, and Rome in a few days (or however long it takes for me to sit down and have 10 consecutive minutes again. No promises!) I apologize if you were deathly bored by the travel entry, but I don’t want to forget a moment, so you’ll have to live with it!

Where I’m From

I am from a noisy, kickball playing, in-and-out of neighbors houses neighborhood; from fluff, peanut butter, and rhubarb slop.
I am from a lived-in home that smells like summer and clothes drying on the clothesline outside; from sitting around the kitchen table talking for hours.
I am from tulips and roses in the “back forty” checked on and watered every night.
I am from one present opened on Christmas eve and sarcastic jokes; from Gromp and Grammie and Uncle Mike.
I am from stubborness, hot tempers, and big hugs.
I am from work hard to earn what you want and never hang up the phone before saying “I love you.”
I am from openness, acceptance, tolerance, and peace.
I am from Vermont, Algonquin, England, France, cucumber sandwiches and juicy hamburgers.
I am from radioing in to deer camp every night, learning how to drive at the BOR, walking the dogs every night, and testifying at City Council meetings.
I am from memory boxes filled to the brim with report cards, pictures, and love; from waking upside down in my crib and listening to my Mom take a shower; from computers sent home to the mother ship; from checking in on me every night before bed to turn off my TV and give one last goodnight kiss; from making the neighbors attend dog shows in which I can only make my dog sit; from making up stories about people on the beach; from sitting upta camp and watching the grass grow; from watching the crazy flatlander walk her cow; from laughing until tears fall down; from complete unconditional love.

Want to make your own?……

I am from _______ (specific ordinary item), from _______ (product name) and _______.
I am from the _______ (home description… adjective, adjective, sensory detail).
I am from the _______ (plant, flower, natural item), the _______ (plant, flower, natural detail)
I am from _______ (family tradition) and _______ (family trait), from _______ (name of family member) and _______ (another family name) and _______ (family name).
I am from the _______ (description of family tendency) and _______ (another one).
From _______ (something you were told as a child) and _______ (another).
I am from (representation of religion, or lack of it). Further description.
I’m from _______ (place of birth and family ancestry), _______ (two food items representing your family).
From the _______ (specific family story about a specific person and detail), the _______ (another detail, and the _______ (another detail about another family member).
I am from _______ (location of family pictures, mementos, archives and several more lines indicating their worth).

There are a lot of moments I remember in my life.

Falling down the first time I rode my bike, with my Dad, in the park.

My brother Graduating from high school and leaving home.

Standing in the kitchen with my Dad holding me when my Mom got home from Dartmouth, and I knew my Grandfather had passed away.

Singing “Love Child” in the car at the top of my lungs with my Mom with the sunroof open.

The phone call in the middle of the night that I knew signified my Grandmother had passed away.

My Mom walking through the door, tears streaming down her face to tell me she had cancer.

Looking in my rear view mirror on I-95 as I drove into Maine for my first weekend of college with my car packed full of stuff, and my Mom behind me in her car.

Getting the keys to my first apartment.

Speaking in the world social forum in Venezuela.

The day that Stacey donated her kidney to my Mom.

Graduating college, (both times).

The day I realized I was in love with Casey.

The day Casey proposed to me, and six months later the moment I became his wife.

The day I realized I was pregnant.

The day I realized I was no longer pregnant.

Experiencing this miscarriage rates high up on the top of crappiest things on Earth for me (and look at my list, I had a lot of experience with crappy – thank goodness I have had even more happy). It’s isolating. First, because very very few people know (knew) we were trying, very very few people knew this happened. Secondly, no one knows what to say or do. It’s not an illness. It’s not a get-well card kind of event. It’s not a “better luck next time” when someone doesn’t get a job. It’s not a “cheer up charlie!” moment when someone’s having a bad day. It’s isolating to the point that I was scared to tell even Casey what was going on, because that loss also feels like failure, especially when we’ve been trying a long time. It also feels ridiculous. How do you miss something that barely even was? How do you treat this as a “late period” (thanks, Doc!) and not a gut-wrenching-loss? How do you pretend everything is ok. . . when it’s NOT. . ?

Everyone handles it differently. About 3 or 4 days after I realized what had happened, I sat in the kitchen talking with a mother that I was starting to work with. She said to me (snidely), “how can you tell me anything about kids if you don’t have any of your own?” I felt like all the air had left my body, and I had to finish the session and cry all the way home. How do people treat others in such a way, having no idea what could be going on for them? Those words were my breaking point. An entire bag of Doritos was eaten. Tears were shed. My husband held me. Everyone’s breaking point is different. There comes a time where we have to cry, to mourn what is or what isn’t. I’m human (yes, really).

Infertility and miscarriages are widely hidden from the world. They are both isolating, and isolation is a powerful way for people to begin losing hope, feeling depressed, wondering why people don’t notice that something is wrong. In writing this, I want to acknowledge that both of these have happened to us. There are support forums, I’ve joined them. There are places to share your story, I’ve done that. But here? You know us. . . in. . .real. . . life. And that’s scary. But, I am trying not to allow this power over me, because I haven’t done anything wrong. These things happen to people. Just like cancer. And graduations. And falling off of bikes. And marriage. And it is no less worthy of my attention than all of these other moments.

Thank you for reading and hearing this. And remember, please treat others with kindness . . . you never know what they are going through.

There are two “apps” that Casey and I use on a daily basis to track both our calorie intake, and our exercise. For those with smart phones, I HIGHLY recommend downloading these (or something like it). They are super easy to use, and give you a great guide when you’re tracking calories. And I stress the importance of tracking calories, because YOU CANNOT COUNT CALORIES IN YOUR HEAD. Believe me. You will underestimate calories easily, and “fuzzy math” will deceive you, leading you to believe you’ve eaten less than you really have. I stick to a 1,200 calorie diet (unless I’m exercising heavily). Casey has a 2,800 calorie diet.

The calorie tracking “app” we have is called “My Fitness Pal” – it is also a website, and if you don’t have a smartphone and want to track calories online, you can use it there. It is free, and not only has lots of foods (both restaurant and grocery store foods) but a cool feature where you can actually scan barcodes of the food you’re eating and it will (usually) have that food in there. This application also sets goals for you for your input of fat, fiber, carbs, vitamins, etc. This is an EXCELLENT way to look at whether or not the food you eat is meeting your needs nutrionally.

There is an exercise tracking component to this tool, but we use the “Cardio Trainer” application for tracking exercise because it can actually track you WHILE you’re exercising (put it in your pocket while you walk/run and it will track your speed, distance, steps, and calories burned!). It can also support you in interval training – prompting you and setting up exercise guidelines. You can set up alarms to remind you to exercise, and it will set up an exercise schedule based on the goals you set for yourself. Both applications can track your weight, and give you recommendations based on your own personal goals.

I know there are several applications out there that do this type of thing – and I’m sure they are great. Use whatever you can, because being accountable to something will help you stick to your plan!

On Wednesday- Casey and I played hookey together! We went to Ocean Park beach near Old Orchard and ran on the beach, played in the water, and watched Skeeter dig crazy holes in the sand. Then we traveled up to Old Orchard for our first pizza and pier fries of the year, topped off which a chocolate creemee! It was a wonderful day, and here are some pictures!!!!

Ocean Park, Maine

My handsome husband!

My new favorite picture of us!

Skeeter put his “crazy face” on!

And proceeded to dig a nice big hole.

Nice, isn’t it?

It was a beautiful day

We headed to Old Orchard for pizza, pier fries, and creemees!!!

Skeeter enjoyed a vanilla ice cream himself!

Old orchard Beach is quiet this time of year…..

Not to be left out, we picked up a creemee for Barney on our way home!

Perhaps summer is finally here?