Super Inspired Writer

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Thursday, October 30

Ten Things Thursday

1.     As an avid dieter I know damn well that you are supposed to only buy Halloween candy that you don’t like so that you aren’t temped to eat it all yourself but did I listen…noooo….so two more days of peanut butter cup hell and they will be off to work with the hubs.
Thriller Night
2.     I been exercising a LOT. I did  a 5K, played bubble soccer, and did glow-in-the-dark Halloween Zumba in the past two weeks and did not lose one pound. Something has got to give and soon.
3.     Glow-in-the-Dark-Zumba!


4.     I decided to call in for an earlier appointment for a fill due to my lack of progress the past few months. My surgeon always tells me to call in as soon as I can for an appointment instead of waiting if I think I need a fill. I do this and he has no appointments any sooner. This time I got a three week advance thank GOD so I will be going in for a tweak on Dec 9 instead of Dec 30.
5.     This might make for a very interesting holiday season because I am close to approaching the Lap-Band point of no return.
6.     I have purchased two Christmas gifts already and it’s not even November. This is the first time ever I have been so on the ball!!
7.     I had the best time ever at the Blackhawks Hockey game with my husband this week and am so lucky to get picked to go on these fun, free dates with him. Next week he has Bulls tickets but I have decided to take a pass and let him find a Bromantic date instead.
8.     I wish I had more control over weighing myself. My twice a day (sometimes more) addiction is doing more harm then good. Even with all of the weight loss I have some very unhealthy habits I need to work through.
9.     After over a week of unseasonably warm weather, we are going to have an end to Indian Summer and will go from short-sleeves to snow boots. Gotta love Chicago.
10. 

Monday, October 27

Balls to the Wall

This post is about balls.

I haven’t written a comedy piece in a while, because things have been so stagnant, but this weekend provided the best material ever for writing a blog post so here goes and I hope you laugh as hard as we did.

This weekend my first born baby….my husband…turned 35 years old. You know I’m a big husband spoiler, between the massage nights and heart shaped pizzas even I sometimes run out of fun ideas. The idea came loud and clear when my son’s soccer coach for his travel team announced that he was opening a new business and that business was balls. Soccer bubble balls. Luckily, the place was going to be open by the big birthday weekend so I seized the day and rented us a ball party.

If you are confused when I say balls, I mean LITERAL balls. Big ass, plastic, blown up balls that you and your friends climb into and then commence a soccer game. Personally, I refused to get on all fours and climb into the slender tube within the ball which was too close to home as being a birthing canal for me, so I used my newfound strength and lifted that ball up over my head and put it on like a hoodie.


Some balls were tight. Some balls were loose. Some balls smelled better than others and some were more slippery inside. Keep those thoughts clean, folks!

Everyone agreed that the blue balls were the best balls, irony lost on no one.

While in the balls we played several games. The event started with as traditional a soccer game as you can imagine, 4 on 4. Me and BW were captains and my team lost no fucking surprise to anyone. There was as much strategy in getting the little ball and kicking it in the goal as there was to finding a big ball filled with a human and knocking it down before it could score.

Once you were bounced to the ground in said ball, the real dilemma was how to get back on your feet again. You had to roll onto your knees and get yourself up. As a woman, and also a busy mom, I am very proficient in having to stand up from the floor with my hands full and therefore was able to get up decently easily without use of my arms. Still it was ass in the air, but good clean fun. Check it out if you are up to something very fun and different that get’s your body moving and blood pumping. A full body workout for sure!! I would never in a million years imagined that I would be running and playing soccer so regularly at all let alone in a ball!!


If you have ever thought about playing in balls, I highly recommend it. As toddlers we play in ball pits, on Wipe Out they jump on big balls, and here in Chicago we can play in the ball itself.   


I like big balls and I cannot lie.


Thursday, October 23

Back-Peddling

I don’t feel like writing.
I don’t feel like I have much to say. But I do.
I don’t feel like doing much of anything, I just want to hide under my snuggie and….sleep? Because I’m tired ALL the time. I’m still BFFs with my sleep machine so this really should NOT be the case.
Oh, and it’s time to pay the piper and admit to myself and the whole social-media world that I have gained seven pounds.
SEVEN (7) fucking pounds.
I hadn’t changed the number on myfitnesspal.com for three months because I wanted with all my heart and soul to believe that it was just water weight, bloating, swelling, a heavy meal that hadn’t cycled through, too much unattended body hair, human head weighs 8 lbs, my acne must add to that right? And then there's that thing I'm not being completely honest about. The major setback in diet and exercise routine for a good cause that I am just finally moving forward from. 
It's there and it’s real.  And it’s a goddamned setback making my goal of eight more to goal now fifteen more to goal. BACK-PEDDLING.
Motivational??
If you are thinking I need to get a life…that it’s JUST SEVEN pounds, I want to remind you that this is my life. That if I don’t panic over SEVEN it will become ten, which will become fifteen, which will become my worst nightmare. I know this much is true because I have been there many times. Not a day goes by that I don’t have a minor panic attack over this fear. It’s by far my greatest fear and it’s real.
I have my standard anxiety combined with body dismorphia and the unhealthiest relationship with food ever. But it is what it is. It’s my cross to bear each day. 
My lap-band controls my ability to eat large hearty quantities, but it does not control what I put in my mouth, that’s all on me. And I’m slacking. Too many carbs, not enough protein. Gallons of coffee and sneaking cookies and crackers. Not enough exercise and too much couch potatoing.
I need to get my shit together and fast.

I made myself a binder because I am a binder person. New strategy, new binder.

So here goes...

Saturday, October 18

Let it go.

Today is my Husband and my’s Homecoming. Typically, this is a SUPER important event for us because we are college sweethearts and still keep in touch with most of our friends. We laugh and cheer, eat stadium food, and reminisce about everything from the past that was so special to us in the late nineties/early 00s.

Today was probably the first time in at least ten years we had to miss out…our old stomping grounds where our love story began got put on the back burner and instead we spent yet another crazy day with our kids.

My son got what I’ll call the first shift. As a family we had registered for the kid’s school’s 5K and Fun Run. Really, this was all about my boy as he is the real athlete and runner in the family. All I heard about was this race. Even though admittedly I’m only hitting the pavement about once a week these days (which is hugely unacceptable) I could still pound out three miles so we both were equally excited.

It was AMAZING. If you have never done an organized race before I highly recommend it. There is something fabulous about getting dressed in your swag and bib and then letting the adrenaline pulse through your body as you push yourself to the limit while others cheer you on. I shaved a WHOLE HALF MINUTE off of my time since last year, which although I’m proud that I ran, is somewhat irritating since I weigh less and in my opinion means I should be much more aerodynamic.

My boy of course killed it in less than 30 minutes and came in third place in his heat of 6-18 year olds. And he was happy. 

My daughter took second shift with her fall piano recital at the music school she goes to. The kids get to dress up in their Halloween costumes to perform. My daughter dressed up as Queen Elsa from “Frozen” and played the piece “Let it Go”. She’d been practicing for forever and even though she would have a hiccup here and there it was really on the right track.

When it was her turn to perform, she left her book at her seat and insisted on playing from memory like the older kids who have probably had lessons for at least ten years. My seven year old who seems very easy going but is actually super headstrong when it counts marched right up to the piano confident as could be. It wasn’t even close to virtuoso. There were mistakes here and there. But what didn’t happen is her letting performance anxiety ruin her recital.

It was far from perfect but she was elated to play her piece for everyone.  And she was happy.

I know this sounds like a major mom-brag blog but really I would like to point out that even though my kids dominated this cold Saturday, it was me that learned from them.

I learned how amazingly wonderful running and exercise feels, and not just physically. That our bodies are made to go the distance if we would just let them.

I learned how even when things aren’t exact, they can still be harmonious. That often we need to let go of "perfect" for things to be in fact…perfect.

And as far as Homecomings go, we are now on the couch under the snuggie watching DVR shows instead of at a jam-packed bar in our college town getting drunk as hell.


But we are HOME…and it is PERFECT.

Thursday, October 9

Stage Face.

Wow, she really has all her shit together!

That’s what it looks like doesn’t it? Well I’m here to tell you that you can’t believe everything you see. Because the LAST thing I want to happen to this blog is for my readers to start thinking, now that she has her life in order and is living the dream she’s just another suburban mom bitch, Starbucks and all.

When you grow up in theater, you are groomed for appearances. If something doesn’t look or sound perfect you keep working it over and over until it does. Even after every performance, when the curtain is closed and the stage is dark, you get notes on what you could or should have done better. You learn how to smile and what angles make you look prettier, thinner, or even smarter. You figure out what accessories are needed so that even without opening your mouth your audience knows what you are saying.

Years ago people would wait for their 10 or 20 year reunions, set the stage, buy the dress, rehearse their spiel, and it was showtime. Enter 2014 where every friggin day of your life is reunion day on Facebook. Look at me! Look at me! Look at my amazingly awesome put together life!!

What a joke.

I hear often about how photogenic I am. How my Facebook pictures look perfect. Well, yes, because I PRACTICED and REHEARSED that for well over 30 years. You can’t sing on stage in a costume if you don’t even know how to hold your head for camera. You know “American Idol”, or “The Voice”, or….well, take your pick. We did that three times a year in college where we sang or played instruments in front of a panel of professors who ripped us new assholes. It was called “juries”. Goddamned juries!!

But we subject ourselves to these things because it’s in our blood to perform. To put out a great show albeit a stellar photo of ourselves or our kids. To want to show everyone our craftiness, our meal we cooked, our home project successes, and the list goes on.

What you don’t see is the tears. The breakdown and rebuild. The extreme and abusive judging of ourselves. The standing in front of the mirror with disgust. The feeling that nothing is perfect because nothing ever is, but that nothing is ever finished because everything can be improved upon. That is what we are taught to be the magic of theater. The secret world going on behind the lights.

I’ve had a rough week, I can’t lie. I have beat myself up to a pulp. I’ve needed way too much eye make up to hide the circles and puffy lids. I even did my hair TWICE in the same week to stage a diversion….distract from what I don’t really know.


But my stage face is always on. 

Sunday, October 5

Bargaining

Today will be different.

I have been saying this for a while now as I trudge through the mud. Today will be the day I break free and move on. Today will be the day I eat nothing but healthy. Today will be the day that I get back to my exercise routine. Today will be different.

And then I wake up on an empty stomach and I feel fresh and new. Depending on what the scale says I feel happy or sad. Stupid but true, just reporting.

I can eat a healthy breakfast, or I can eat a junky breakfast or I can skip altogether. This is the first decision I make every day. And it becomes crucial because it sets up the path for the rest of the day.

When lunch comes so does the bargaining because now it’s the middle of the day. If I ate a healthy breakfast or even skipped, I will start bargaining with myself if I can eat a crappy lunch. I shouldn’t, but if I just let myself cheat at this meal, this one mean, what can it hurt? I’ll make up for it at dinner, yep that sounds easy enough. Or I won’t eat dinner altogether! Or I’ll run until my lungs are burning and hope that erases the damage.

But when six o’clock comes all those promises are in the past because I am hungry and it is dinnertime. And at this point I start to re-bargain and think, what’s the point it’s done, I already ate too much/ ate junk/ didn’t follow my plan. One of two things happens now…. dinner becomes 5 cups of coffee and I fall asleep empty and disappointed, or dinner becomes anther junky meal in the hopes that my stomach will get pissed off enough to move everything on out in the morning and I can start back at square one. Once again I fall asleep disappointed. See what happened there? Disappointment either way.

So why, oh why might you ask, do I allow myself to walk this cycle every day? Because I have a food addiction. Because I have very deep-rooted emotional damage and anxiety where food is concerned. My body is healthier, but my mind is where it has always been, a place of inconsistent bargaining of what will make me happy for that moment. This is no different than any other addictive behavior be it alcohol, drugs, sex, gambling, etc. etc.  Like the tide of the ocean there are times of calm and times of turbulence. I’ve been swimming against what feels like the current and I’m getting tired.

I’m no shrink (although I did major in psychology for one measly semester) but I do know that I’m not alone. I also know that talking about it helps and writing about it helps me even more to work through it.


Maybe tomorrow will be different….