A day in the life of super mom

Yesterday was a busy busy day.  I spent the morning watching a friend's daughters.  Now typically when the kids play together there is a nice "honeymoon" period where they get along famously, and then after about 90 minutes they start acting like brothers and sisters - trying to kill each other (or at least seriously wound each other).  This was not the case yesterday.  My 5-year-old was off at school, and my 3-year-old and the two little ladies got along great, for a few hours!  I was able to finish my reading of research proposals so I could submit my final assignment for one of my grad classes.  The day was off to a great start.  We ate lunch, had a little down time, and ventured off to collect my oldest from school.  The youngest (who I will refer to as "G" from here on out) had a melt down in the school yard when we told him that it was too cold to stay and play on the playground - threw himself on the ground and had a fit.  We got in the car, and drove home so Daddy could get changed for a trip to the store for dress pants. 

It gets dark here pretty early, but the sky still had a little light to it.  We crossed the bridge, and I suddenly realized that I didn't see my headlights reflecting off the back of the car in front of us.  Now anyone who knows the trials and tribulations of our Chevy Trailblazer is aware that we have some electrical idiosyncracies.  It likes to lock itself with the keys and children inside.  It likes to turn off random lights, like the driver's side headlight or a brake-light.  Sometimes the passenger door loses electrical power so you can't roll the window down (or back up) and it won't unlock.  Anywhoo, so we pull over and realize that I can't see my headlights because they are both out!!  AHHH!  We opened the hood and I fiddled with the driver's side wires and the headlight came back on.  The passenger side light is blocked on the back by the air filter cover, and I had no screwdriver with me to move this.  Out of frustration I hit the headlight with my fist, and it came back on - seriously when does that ever work???  And we were off again, with headlights operational.

We got into Burlington, found some pants and shoes for Daddy at Ross - which I've never been in before, but happily discovered is sort of like TJ Maxx.  Found a dress for me to wear as well, which was hard since my "helpful" husband kept pulling out the most hideous options and suggesting I would look good in them.  Tried to find some shoes, but I have an issue with heals as I have a tendency to walk like a drag queen, and the higher the heel, the worse the strut becomes.  Left the store with clothes for the holiday party tonight.  On to the mall so the boys could deliver their wish lists to Santa.  My 5-year-old (who I will refer to as "P" from here on out) took just a moment to warm up to Santa and then was happy to let him know what he desired.  G just looked shell-shocked.  His eyes were huge and he kept looking at P and then nodding, but wouldn't say anything.  Picture time, and P was happy to smile because he was feeling good that Santa was going to deliver what he wanted.  But G looked like a zombie.  He just stared off into outer space.  I don't think he was even blinking!  He wasn't upset and crying, he really just looked a little creepy.  Santa pulled out a candy cane to entice him to smile, even unwrapped it and put it in G's mouth, but still no smile (or blinking).  Sweet pictures.  I was dying I was laughing so hard.

Headed home.  I changed into my new dress while Daddy tried on his dress clothes - because you know they always look horrible in the store dressing room as compared to your own bedroom.  P remarked that I looked beautiful - he's always good for an ego boost.  He then went on to let me know that at school that day two girls were kissing him!  They weren't even sneaky about it, like waiting until recess.  Nope, they were kissing on his face right in the classroom!  And so it begins.  I told him it's because he's so sweet and has those nice puffy kissers.  I'm just hoping he stays sweet and doesn't try to fashion himself as a little ladies man like his Daddy was.  :)

Major Design Flaw

When the weather permits, and the boys aren't dragging their feet, we walk my 5-year-old to school.  It's not quite a 1/2 mile each way so it would seem like an easy task.  Typically before we even get out of sight of the house, my 3-year-old is asking me to carry him.  When I refer to him as my husband's "mini-me", I'm not joking.  I'm pretty sure if I had the ability to carry my spouse home from the playground, he would ask for it as well.  I can't decide if it's a touch of laziness or if he just wants me to hold him [my 3-year-old, not my husband].  Somehow, though we always manage to make it to the school on time.  My kindergartner won't let me kiss him anymore, as he has to look cool in front of the other kids, so I have to sneak in my sweet lovin' before we get to the school grounds.  He runs off to play before the whistle blows to line up.  Now you would think that at this point we could leave, since my doddler typically takes a solid century to walk home.  But no, my 3-year-old will not leave the school fence until every single kid is inside.  We will watch his brother go in and you would think this was all he was waiting for.  Nope.  He's like the playground police.  Wants to make sure every straggling kid makes it in the door before we head out.

So what is my point?  Well, yes I'm a little long-winded about our routine on school days because it occupies a lot of my time and energy 2-3 days a week.  What I've noticed on these school days, is that a little bit of poor planning went into the design of the exit strategy for this elementary school.  Clearly I've shown that I have plenty of time to analyze the situation while I wait for my youngest to be ready to leave.  Alright, the school parking lot is a little ridiculous.  It is set up well, in that you pull into the lot, drive down a lane on the right, turn left into the parking area, and when you're ready to leave you continue out the other side of the parking area and continue on out of the school grounds (so you sort of make a circle).  This should work well for traffic flow.  It gets backed up a little at the entrance as children are crossing the street, so there is an understandable wait while this happens.  The real issue is that the lane you enter the school grounds on, also doubles as the exit lane for buses.  It's plenty wide for this to be accomplished.  Buses are given priority where the lanes comes back together, but some parent's decide that their time is too valuable to sit in the line waiting to get out, so they hop in line with the buses in the hopes of gaining priority as well.  This is a huge pet-peeve of mine.  The area is clearly labeled showing the appropriate traffic flow, but those who choose to ignore the signs (because the universe revolves around them), throw a wrench into things, slowing down the natural process.  It kind of makes me want to grind my teeth, and this is when I'm not even waiting in my car.  Apparently this bothers other parents too, as they are so stressed in dealing with this at the end of the school day, that they can't even wait until they get home to light up their cigarette.  Classy.  I think I'd rather pull my hair out and have a permanent eye twitch than subject my children to the effects of my nasty habit - but that's just me.

In addition to major issues with traffic patterns, there is a small issue (I feel) with the sidewalk.  I love love love that the sidewalk is wide enough for approximately 6 kids to walk side-by-side.  This works out great when everyone is getting out of school and there is a rush of people all trying to get off the property.  When we arrived at our first day of school, one piece of advice provided by a school official was to encourage kids to walk along the fence which would keep them as far as possible from the area where parents are driving out of the parking lot.  Of course!  This makes perfect sense.  Should be easy enough, especially since there's so much room.  Now does anybody else see why this might prove a little bit difficult with curious kids?  Do we really need a yellow stripe indicating where the edge of the sidewalk is?  Somehow we manage to stay off the street when we walk around the neighborhood, and none of our sidewalks have this stripe.  Is it to indicate not to park there?  A sign might help with that, or perhaps a little common sense.  Now maybe some children/parents really need that stripe there to act as a warning, but I can't believe that my preschooler is the only one who thinks it makes a great balance beam.

I love my kindergartner's school.  Love his teacher.  Especially love that he really likes going and learning new things.  But sort of wish that parents would set a better example at least while they're on the school grounds, and that maybe the stripe be scraped off the sidewalk - though I'm sure he would still like to walk on that part just to test fate.

The Dirty Dietitian

Where oh where has my motivation gone?  I find myself wrapping up my fall semester of classes and have pretty much lost all my momentum.  I'm still loving that I'm getting this degree and the material is certainly still very interesting.  I think I'm just ready to be done with these classes so I can move on to the next ones.  Big projects are coming due and a final exam next week will wrap things up.  I am amazed to find that I still have more space left in my brain for new information.  And I'm loving sharing everything I learn, though I have to remember that most people don't want to know all raw information I've put together. 

I decided, after my rant on shake diets, that rather than continue to be frustrated with the poor diet choices that others make I would instead start a little help page on Facebook.  I can post little tips each day and answer questions that people may have.  This way I can pass the information I gather along to those who want to know more about healthier eating/lifestyle.  There are a lot of people out there who want to make the best choices, but are not unhealthy enough to warrant an insurance-covered visit to a dietitian.  I've named my page "The Dirty Dietitian".  I wasn't feeling particularly clever, and figured this sort of summed up my take on nutrition education - delivery raw, crude, or "dirty" details.  Though as I think more about it now, it sort of sounds like some guy's fantasy.  Like after the Naughty Librarian would be the Dirty Dietitian?  Ah, whatever.  If I can manage to help even one person, then I'm content.

I Prefer to Chew My Food

Today's blog is a bitter rant.  And it's directed at a particular weight loss shake, who shall remain nameless.  It's not their fault that so many people are drawn to their claims of rapid, long-lasting results.  It's ours for being so quick to believe them.  I loathe these products.  They foolishly spit on my profession as if our recommendations for moderation are unnecessary and unsubstantiated.  They make you believe that consuming real food is passe, and the new era of slim bodies start with a blender and a few carefully chosen chemicals.

Each shake provides 90 calories.  If you mix it with skim milk that brings you up to 170.  So lets pretend that you only drank two shakes per day and then had an average dinner of 600 calories.  That's not even 1000 calories for the day!!  There's no miracle potion in the shake mix, it's just simple math.  If you are consuming less than you are expending in energy, then you will lose weight.  Now I will say that if someone handed me a meal to eat for breakfast and lunch and then told me I was on my own for dinner, I imagine having the plan and those particular guidelines would help me to stick to it.  But where does personal responsibility enter the equation?  They aren't teaching you how to eat healthy.  They aren't even teaching you to eat!  They encourage liquid meals!!  Don't we have teeth for a reason?  Are you aware that part of how our brain senses satiety is by how much it smells and chews a food?  So with this in mind, is that shake appeasing the brain when you don't chew the shake nor does the coldness of the shake encourage a lot of aroma?  Not so much.  What about nutrients?  The shake is sweetened with sucralose (Splenda) and has a few select vitamins, minerals and antioxidants.  So if we drink the shake and it contains beta-carotene, then it's the same as eating a carrot (or other Vitamin A rich vegetable) right?  Well what about the other 500+ carotenoids that the carrot contains?  Aren't these important too?  Can't get that in the shake. 

Hmmmm, "great tasting variety for just $2 a meal".  Well I'm pretty sure that doesn't include all the items you might want to add to your shake.  If you plan on concocting one of the recipes, it's going to run you more than $2 and it's also going to raise that calorie level.  I do like how the youtube video for this product runs through a dozen or so different foods, claiming you would have to eat a 3-15 of each of these to get the same nutritional value of a shake.  Last time I checked a lot of foods have a large variety of important nutrients, not just one as this video would have you believe.  For example cheese is not just a good source of Zinc, but it also has calcium so why are they suggesting that you also need to eat frozen yogurt to cover the calcium?  They showed bran cereal and bread for different nutrients, then later indicate all the prunes you need for fiber - but show no indication that you got fiber from the cereal and the 15 slices of bread.  How are people supposed to learn to eat a healthy variety when they are purposefully misinforming consumers so they can sell their product?  It actually made me think of an old Saturday Night Live commercial from back in the Phil Hartman era, for "Colon Blow" and "Super Colon Blow" where they were showing the number of bowls of fiber cereal you would have to eat to get the fiber benefit of theirs.  If a product was truly impressive, then it wouldn't need to over-sell itself like this.

What are you going to do when you stop?  Are you going to drink these shakes indefinitely?  Now, yes, I have not signed up so I cannot see behind the curtain to see what fabulous exercise and diet tips they are providing.  I just cannot stand to see so many people getting caught up in this sort of multi-level-marketing product.  I mean honestly, if they really just wanted to help people with weight loss and healthy changes, they wouldn't be encouraging rapid weight loss like this with the added appeal that you can get your program for free if you sign up your friends.

Simply about Survival

So here I sit at my first craft fair of the holiday season.  Business is a little slow, but it’s giving me a chance to fully analyze the brick wall across from me, and to remember that I have to bring some busy work to do tomorrow when it gets stagnant.  So as I sit here, I’m thinking back on my week of preparing for the show and I honestly can’t believe I made it here, with my goods to sell, and a voice (since I thought for sure I was going to lose it from the constant scolding).  How is it that when you are at your busiest moment, little boys seem to know you can’t be on top of them, and take full advantage?  Is it a sixth sense they possess?  Can they smell the sweat on my brow from a moment of preoccupied work?  Whatever it is in their being that alerts them, I want it removed.  I honestly thought I was going to lose my mind, when one bad day turned into two and three.

The first day started off with a phone call from my husband regarding unfortunate news about his mawmaw.  I was knee deep in products I needed to make, but now I was extra stressed because I wanted to hug my husband, but couldn’t (he was away on a military trip) and I had to figure out how to get him from his location to Texas for the services.  The boys sensed something was up, or actually they sensed that I was on the phone and proceeded to tear their rooms apart.  They emptied their entire dressers all over the floor.  As if that mess wasn’t bad enough, they started throwing the clothes into each other’s rooms and down the stairs (so it not only had to be put away, but sorted too).  Mind you this was Tuesday, and it is now Friday and I still have not found a spare moment to reorganize all of those garments.  When the clothes are a mess it makes it hard to get dressed, so I spent the next hour trying to convince my 3-year-old that he needed to find something to wear so we could get out the door to get to a meeting regarding Daddy’s emergency leave and plane ticket.  We made it to the meeting, fully dressed (I still don’t know how) – where both boys proceeded to play in the office like it was a jungle gym and at one moment I found them licking the desk!!  I seriously thought my eye was going to pop out of my head it was twitching so badly.

Day 2 was a little better to start as I had my 5-year-old off to kindergarten and my 3-year-old being babysat while I had a tooth filling replaced (believe it or not this was the most relaxing part of my whole week).  The afternoon proved to be horrific as soon as school let out.  The 5-year-old was properly wound up from being over-stimulated all day and would not stop making his brother cry.  I was supposed to be listening to a live lecture for my class, but I think I could only hear about 50% of it.

 
Day 3 was when I finally started to think that I was losing my grasp of control on the household.  The boys had decided to brush their teeth after breakfast.  I came around the corner and found toothpaste smeared across the floor and apparently my 3-year-old thought it would make really good hair gel too.  He certainly was right, that hair didn’t move one bit once the paste got into it.  My frustration with their mess sent them both to their rooms.  A bit later I heard running between the upstairs bathroom and their bedrooms.  I ventured upstairs to find them saturating wash cloths in the sink and then running them into the 3-year-old’s room where they would squeeze them out into one of their empty dresser tubs (empty because their clothes are still all over the floor).  I still can’t figure out what they were setting up to do, and I honestly don’t want to know.  The scolding began.  They were sent back to their respective rooms and told not to come out.  Moments later my 5-year-old appeared downstairs wearing my winter boots (which he had to go into my closet to get)!!  AND SMILING!!  I could have thrown fire balls out of my eyes, I was so pissed.  I got down at his level and said “what is it going to take for you to start listening and acting like a kindergartener at home??”  That little smart ass actually started to answer!  AHHH! Sent back to his room.  Mind you, the whole time this is going on, I’m trying to pour and label candles and body products for the show because we had to be ready to drive 45 minutes to set up that night.  I spoke to my husband.  I was losing it.  I didn’t know what to do.  As I figured, neither did he.  After talking to our 5-year-old, he [my husband] informed me that he [my 5-year-old] should behave because “I told him if he doesn’t then he’ll be in trouble when I get home.”  Bahahahaha - silly Daddy, that threat was about as effective as wet toilet paper.  Somehow I managed to finish up and load everything in the car for the trip to the show site.  My 3-year-old still had his “hair gel” in and had layered on some facial dirt so it now looked like he also had a goatee.  And they both slept like little angels the whole way – probably tired out from their devil-ish activities.
 
And what have I decided?  Well, sometimes you just have to sit back and realize that there are going to be days… maybe even a few in a row… that are simply about survival.  When all I need to do is make it from sunrise to sunset, with a few meals in between, and be happy that we didn’t have any trips to the Emergency Room. 

Pffffft. Yes, that's the sound my brain just made.

I'm pretty sure my brain has turned to absolute mush.  When I began my Master's program I was so excited and could hardly wait to dig into the material.  That really hasn't changed.  Every morsel I read seems to get stowed away in my now carefully categorized brain.  What has changed is the amount of detail I'm putting into all of my work.  And wow, the level of work that's coming out of me.  In my undergrad years I thought I was working hard.  I would be presented a case study in one of my nutrition classes, and I thought I was rocking the assignment if I managed to point out what deficiency the patient had.  At the level I'm at right now, case studies like that look absolutely ridiculous.  Over the past few weeks I created a case study.  And when I say "created", I mean from the bottom up.  I crafted the entire patient!  Pulled him out of thin air, developed his identity, drew a time-line of the evolution of his problem, and in the end I offered solutions that I crafted from reading the current research literature on his health care conundrum.  Over the weekend I became insanely jealous of others in my class who might be working in a hospital right now.  They didn't need to go to such lengths... they had a pool of sick individuals right in front of them, and only had to pick out the most interesting one and discuss nutrition interventions to help the patient.

Does it bother me that I probably put twice as much work into my study as some others?  Nope!  Every moment of the 15 hours I devoted to that project was worth it.  I learned a lot.  For example, did you know that if you want to convert mmol/L to mg/dL in regards to LDL cholesterol, you would divide the mmol/L by 0.0259?  Did you know you divide it by something else if you're dealing with Triglycerides since the molecular weight is different?  Was is 0.0113?  The real question is do you really need to use valuable brain space to remember this?  And how do I get my eye to stop twitching from the lengths I had to go to in order to find these conversion calculations???  But honestly, I really did learn a ton, especially about my innate desire to take that mediocre undergrad mindset and stomp it out of existence in this body. 

Pavlov's Dog

Okay, Pavlov's dog seriously had nothing on my 3-year-old.  I would have thought that once he got past the heavy teething stage, the drooling would slow up.  Not the case here.  Granted he is not constantly oozing at the mouth, and doesn't necessarily need to wear a bib all day, but there are certain circumstances that seem to bring on the slobber.

1.  Food or the discussion of food of any kind.  So talking about having lunch, and the drool starts.  Rip open a packet of "fruit" snacks and the drool comes without even mentioning treats.
2.  Distraction.  This is never me trying to distract him, it would be him distracting himself from the need to swallow his own spit.  So, while concentrating on playing with a toy - better hope all the toys are water-resistant.  Coloring - in case you didn't know, it gets pretty hard to draw on soaking wet paper with a crayon.  V-smile video game - I have to cross my fingers that the drool hits his shirt instead of landing on the screen.
3.  And finally... you may want to stop reading here if my discussion of boy in the bathroom bothers you... when we're peeing or pooping.  Oh yes.  Lots of concentration involved when using the potty.  So if he's peeing, then usually there's some drool hitting the potty too.  Actually, now that I think of it, there may be more drool than pee somedays - as he likes to look around while peeing which tends to keep the pee from hitting the mark.  And then there's the daily pooping.  He still likes some assistance for this activity, as it's terribly hard (apparently) to remember to tuck the penis down when you're very busy working on pooping.  So there I am, holding down his equipment while he holds his breath, turning red in the face - all while maintaining firm eye contact with me - and a stream of drool run off his pouty lip, past his shirt collar and straight onto my hand.

So sloppiness aside, what I can't figure out is how that boy doesn't get dehydrated.  I mean these are not small quantities of liquid escaping his body.  And what do we have in store with an influx of candy expected this weekend and Monday.  I'm going to have to pick up some more swiffer pads, or maybe I'll see if roomba makes a non-stop mopper.

Leptin, the little brother of Ghrelin

Okay, so yesterday I ranted about ghrelin and importance of enough sleep to make sure you ghrelin stays manageable.  Ghrelin is what lets you know that you are hungry.  Leptin is opposing force of ghrelin.  Sort of like a little brother, it is always in competition with ghrelin.  But leptin does oh so much more.  Years back I recall a study being done with mice that showed those mice who didn't produce enough leptin were obese, and almost overnight people were trying to figure out how to gives themselves some more to help with weight loss.  Here's what we are learning about leptin.  Leptin is a hormone produced in our fat cells (adipose) that signals the brain that we are satisfied.  Leptin tries to help us maintain a leaner figure.  So, the more fat cells we have, theoretically the more leptin we are producing and thus the more satisfied we should feel.  Leptin also sends out a signal when we are eating.  So ghrelin tells us we are hungry, we eat something, and leptin tells us we are satisfied.  Seems simple enough.  The problem comes when we eat too frequently and/or we have too much fat tissue.  It seems that putting out large amounts of leptin would help us to lose weight because we would constantly be telling that part of the brain that we are satified - this is why everyone was so excited when the research first came out with those obese mice.  The problem is that the satiety center of the brain gets tired of listening to leptin yelling at it, and it starts to desensitize.  I liken this to when my boys are screaming/whining about pretty much anything and I start to tune them out.  This doesn't stop the boys from doing it, and it doesn't stop leptin from doing it either but it does make it harder to sense that we are satisfied.  So you would think we could just overcome this by continuing to send the brain more signals.  But our body is a wonderfully, mysterious thing.  While leptin is screaming at our brain, it's also working to tell our pancreas that we don't need quite so much insulin.  After all, we need insulin to process any carbohydrate we just ate, and if we're telling the brain that we are satified, then theoretically there won't be more carbs coming in and thus there won't be a need for more insulin.  You would think this is harmless, however constantly telling our pancreas that we don't need more insulin just keeps it alert.  It would be like putting a pot on the stove instead of keeping it in the cupboard - it's ready to be used even though you haven't called upon it to heat something yet.  So when food does enter our system and needs insulin to allow for utilization of all that nice energy, our pancreas has been sitting there, chomping at the bit - ready for action!  At a moments notice, it overwhelms the system with a push of insulin in an attempt to drive that nice sugar (glucose from carbohydrate) into our cells.  Too bad all that fatty tissue around our bellies makes it harder for insulin to get the job done.  Ah well, we'll just produce some more insulin (hyperinsulinemia) to bring down our blood sugar (hyperglycemia) all the while telling leptin to respond more because we are really satisfied but having trouble sensing it.

Phew, I'm out of breath just thinking about it.  Our body really is miraculous in the ways it tries to keep us on track.  Too bad we are so pig-headed that we constantly feel the need to work against it.  So what does all this mumbo jumbo above mean?  In order for us to improve the sensitivity of our brain, we are going to have to cut down on some of that fatty tissue we carry around, and stop constantly encouraging our pancreas to pump out more insulin... in other words, how about a little exercise and maybe no snacking between meals??  Seriously, everytime you put food in your system you are activating this pathway - don't you think it could use a little down-time between meals?  And... stop looking for that quick fix.  I mean really, if you're looking for a quick way to satisfy that part of the brain that leptin works with, I've heard a little crack/cocaine will do the trick too (note, I do not advise use of crack/cocaine for dieting purposes, just maybe for a hard day at work - hahahaha, okay not for that either).

A little heavy reading (pun intended)

So I'm reading pages and pages of research articles that have been done in the realm of sleep, sleep deprivation, and ghrelin.  Ghrelin is a hormone secreted by your stomach that lets your body know that it needs to eat something.  Ghrelin is complimented by Leptin which tells your body you are satisfied.  Okay, so what have I found so far.  Well, we need approximately 7 hours of sleep each night.  No kidding, right?  Getting more sleep than that and you are at risk for being overweight/obese.  Getting less than that... same problem.  But it's not just a matter of crawling into bed 7 hours before you need to wake up in the morning.  You also need to be getting quality sleep.  Quality sleep means you drift frequently from the lighter stages of sleep (stage 1 and 2) to the deepest stage of sleep (REM - rapid eye movement).  How can you tell if you're doing this?  Well, I found an application for my smart phone that senses it if you really want to test yourself.  Or if you share your bed with a very light sleeper you could ask them if you toss and turn a lot.  Movement during sleep (unless you have a sleep disorder) indicates you are in the upper levels of sleep, whereas sleep paralysis happens in REM sleep (thus you move about as much as a big rock).  Okay, so if you are getting 7 hours of quality sleep, with nice sleep waves, then you are setting yourself up for a good day with normal levels of ghrelin.  What happens if you aren't getting a good night's sleep?  Well, first thing in the morning your ghrelin levels will be depressed.  So the lower the ghrelin levels are, the less internal encouragement you have to eat.  Which sounds great... however, mid-afternoon into the early evening these ghrelin levels will spike up.  A low ghrelin in the morning lends itself to a high level at the time of day when we have the hardest time denying our cravings. 

Oh, but it gets better.  Okay, so let's say you are doing a great job getting plenty of rest at night.  This generally means that you would be on track for a great day with ghrelin showing up at meal times letting you know you're hungry but not encouraging you to overdo it.  For this next scenario, we are going to assume that you have started a diet and exercise program so you can shed a few extra pounds.  You've lost a little and are feeling good.  Now Mr. Homeostasis seems to want to add in his opinion.  Homeostatis is the body's natural way of trying to "maintain".  It doesn't like change and it wants things to stay just as they are.  In order for this guy to maintain your weight, he kicks in ghrelin as a last ditch effort to make you put that weight back on.  Ghrelin tells you that you are ravenously hungry and need to eat eat eat!!!  Everytime I think about this, all I can say is "where the heck was homestasis when I was putting the weight on????" and why didn't he want me to stay lean?  No use thinking about it now.  Just need to remember this information when you are starting to lose some weight and want your efforts to continue.  I think if you're anticipating that little push of hunger (from ghrelin) then you can be better prepared to handle it, instead of throwing in the towel and hitting up that bag of Halloween candy.

Coming soon, I will fill you in on the dirty little secret of gender differences in weight gain in regards to ghrelin.  Dumb female body!!!  For now, just "digest" the sleep and ghrelin tid bit.  It's exhausting to think about it.  Almost makes me want to take a nap (but don't since it doesn't count towards your 7 hours at night).

Today's weather report brought to you by. . .

Forrest Gump.  Yesterday we were greeted with "little bitty stingin' rain", but today it's "big ol' fat rain".  Okay, so maybe we don't look as bad as Gump did in that puddle up to his chest, but certainly feels that way when it just rains, or drizzles for days and days in a row.  Now if tomorrow calls for the rain that comes straight up from underneath...

I love fall, but this isn't fall.  This some sort of sick step backwards to spring.  Everyone asks me if it rains here as much as "they" say.  And I always say it's more gray and just a little drizzle during certain parts of the year.  If this keeps up, though, I'm going to have to change my answer.

Parking Lot Etiquette

Parking was tight when we pulled in, but I left enough room on either side for the trucks parked there to get in and out.  We managed to get ourselves out of the trailblazer without touching anyone's vehicle, which is tough to do when you've got a sweet ghetto booty like mine.  So we picked up a few things at the cheap supermarket and we were making a stop at the car before heading across the lot to visit K-Mart, when I noticed a note on my windshield.  Someone who must have been parked near us saw a gentleman in the truck to our right throw his door into the side of our car and thought he would let me know the guys vehicle and license number.  I thought this was a very nice gesture.  Too bad the man who did the damage didn't feel the need to leave the note because he wouldn't have had to live the rest of his day with a guilty conscience.  For all he knew my car could have been a really sweet SUV, as opposed to a nicely polished pile of poop with about 4 layers of touch of paint in the same spot he scuffed. 

I had plenty of time to inspect the new eye sore on the car door as both the boys felt the need to drop their pants and pee in the parking lot.  My oldest went first and as he was wrapping up his river, he quickly pulled up his pants and bent over to pick something up.  Yup... candy.  He had spotted what looked like a green fruit snack in the parking lot and was about to give it some leniency with regards to the 5-second rule.  I guess since I've already begun to describe how disgusting little boys are you can easily imagine one of them thinking that it would be okay to eat the treat.  The picture below describes quite clearly why my cat-like reflexes kicked in and blocked him from snagging it.  What exactly was it that made him think this was a good choice?  Am I not feeding him enough?  Did the man who slammed his door into our car leave this here?  And did my 5-year-old honestly believe that just because the pee hadn't dribbled under the fruit snack that it was still a viable snack?

Dear LEGO Inventors,

I was just curious if it is possible to make a set that looks awesome to my 5 year yet does not take me 20 minutes to put together.  Today's sweet treat of an Optimus Prime LEGO man came with a chapter book of instructions on how to assemble this beast.  Naturally it did not go together in a way that allows Optimus to transform from autobot to truck, nope you have to take it apart and spend another lifetime rebuilding him as the truck if you so choose.  Because I live with an incredibly impatient 5 year old, he naturally was requesting we build him as the truck when I was about halfway through creating the autobot.  :( 

Ah Fresh Air

I love Autumn.  On a nice day, the air is so nice and crisp.  The leaves are all changing color and it just feels like you can breathe so deeply, while walking around in warm sweaters.  Yesterday we went to the pumpkin patch so the boys could pick out some pumpkins for carving purposes.  They also have a little hay maze for kids to run through, and farm animals to ogle.  I was looking at pictures of the boys from last year as compared to this year at the same farm.  Can't believe how much they've grown.  This year Grady was also not afraid of the animals.  Last year he shook with fear when he saw the baa baa black sheep, goat, and pigs.  This time around he didn't need to be held and was offering them his fingers as snacks.

Foster's Farm 2010

Foster's Farm 2011

Pumpkin Picking 2011

Pumpkin Picking 2010

What I also can't believe is how tiring it is to be outside.  I would have thought both these boys would have been snoring the whole way home from the farm, but instead it was me that was having a hard time keeping my eyes open.  Why is it like that?  Shouldn't being outside in the fresh air leave you energized?  I think I should have at least had the energy afterwards to carve the pumpkins we picked.  Ah well, now we have something to do today.

Would I do it again?

In a heartbeat.  Day 2 post op and despite some swelling I couldn't be happier.  My lower jaw/chin is pretty stiff which makes it a little hard to chew and to smile, but that will normalize soon enough.  I took a couple pictures so I could see that difference.  From the front my face currently appears a little longer and wider, but this is because of the swelling.  From the side, what a difference it has made to my profile.  You actually get to see a picture that I never before would have allowed to be seen by the public - because I disliked it so much.  It was kind of strange to go run a couple errands today, and to find that I did not feel the need to hide my profile.  I didn't try to make faces or to cock my head to one side to change the way my face was viewed.  I actually felt secure enough to allow people to see me from any angle.  It was a wonderful, incredibly confident feeling.  One that I haven't ever had in this regard.

Surgery

Surgery is done and I'm off to today to have a follow-up appointment with the doctor.  They will remove the compression tape that is still strapped to my chin.  It will be hard to tell for a few more days what the final look will be since there's still a fair amount of swelling.  It seems to be improving since I don't have twinges of pain when I purse my lips this morning, whereas yesterday I couldn't have used a straw if my life depended on it. 

Yesterday was pretty nerve-racking.  I've had surgery before to repair my broken nose - a few times - so I wasn't uncomfortable with the idea of being knocked out.  And I also was very comfortable with the surgeon after meeting with him a few times.  But this was the first time I had been knocked out since having my boys.  There's some sort of immortal feeling you have prior to starting a family.  It's that you feel like you can't be injured.  You are more willing to take certain risks.  And whether people recognize it, there is always a risk with a surgical procedure.  I recall starting to drift off when they were fixing my nose, thinking "please let this be the last time I have to do this, and I hope it goes great".  This time around, all I could think about was the possibility of not waking up!!  AHHH!!  As if that's what you want to be thinking about when you're going in for an elective procedure.  And how selfish would that be to have a cosmetic procedure done that then caused you to be missing from your children's lives??  I would love to take a peak at what my blood pressures were running as I was laying on that operating room table.  They must have been through the roof.  Tears rolling down my face, sniffling under the oxygen mask.  At first I think the nurse thought I was so upset because of the IV.  Legitimate thought since there are a lot of people who have trouble with needles.  I don't think they could have knocked me out fast enough once I told them what was running around in my head.  And the next thing I knew I was waking up.  No dreams in between.  You aren't really sleeping.  It's as if time stands still for a moment - one second you're finally drifting off on the table and the next moment you're groggily opening your eyes in the recovery room.  What do they call that, suspended animation?  Weird.  And wouldn't I love to be an observer in those recovery rooms.  I certainly have never been one to withold information.  In fact I'm pretty much an open book about anything.  But I don't know if the recovery room nurse needed to know that.  And I'm sure there are a lot more discreet/reserved people who find themselves waking up in those rooms just rambling on about all kinds of intimate details of their lives - embarassed later.  I told a friend, who is finishing up her bachelor's in nursing, that she should go into that realm and then maybe I could listen to some hilarious stories.  :)

So would I do it again?  Well, the recovery has been as easy as I could hope for.  I did not need the heavy pain killers that I snagged at the pharmacy.  Tylenol and some advil didn't completely take care of the pain, but they took the edge off.  I have a few more days of that regimen before the majority of the swelling will go down.  I won't be able to run for a couple weeks, which is hard to do without since it had finally become such a great routine, but worth it.  As for appearance, I honestly couldn't tell you what this artificial body part looks like.  It's still taped until lunch time today, and even then I don't know if it will show it's true form amongst the swelling.  In a few days I plan on taking a couple pictures of it, and for most people you will get to see a picture of my profile for the first time - which I have carefully hidden or burned any evidence of up until now.  It is a little strange to think about a strip of silicone sitting in my face, but I'm sure I will get used to it.  And I've become okay with the fact that I have altered something about my appearance that I didn't like.  As my sister told me, people come to her salon all the time to alter their appearance so she really doesn't look at this as being any different - just a little more permanent.

That's right, lit review . . .

... that was me that just rocked your world.  I bet you never saw it coming. 

You might want to picture me jumping around throwing punches in the air as I have just conquered an assignment that has been weighing on me all week.  For my master's program we have an option of doing a research project instead of writing a thesis.  Now, as interesting as writing a thesis about food recalls and 24-hour food diaries might be (bleh) I chose the research option.  It sounded really interesting and I love the idea of discovering something new that helps all kinds of people.  And bland writing about boring topics really makes me want to roll my eyes and leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

So one of the first classes I have is about setting up your research proposal.  Making sure you have an appropriate idea with measureable objectives.  And for this week, we needed to do a literature review to show what research had already been done, and identify an area of need.  Normally this would excite me.  However, I don't know exactly what I want to study.  It changes every week!!  So I had to pick one of the many topics I have an interest in.  Then I had to look up current research on the topic, and put it together in a short review which read like a story as opposed to a book report with lots of quotes.  Ick.  I didn't want to do it.  It's that first sentence that kills me.  That first one that gets the mental engine to turn over and gets the ideas flowing. 

But I did it.  That first sentence came pretty easily, and it was amazing how I was still staring at a basically blank word document, but my brain had already drawn lines from my research notes to the place in the review where they would just naturally fall into place.  It was as if I could see the whole review outlined in my brain and all I had to do was to just sit down and give my fingers a moment to put it together.  It's done!  And not to pat myself on the back (which I'm doing anyway), but I think I rocked it.  I think if I wanted to choose this for my topic,  I put together a fantastic case for the research's need.

Bring on the Scalpel

About a month ago I was talking with a friend about things that bother us about ourselves these days and that we would like to alter.  What struck me as interesting was how this has changed over the years.  Starting around adolescence and all the way up through early adulthood I definitely recall comparing myself to my friends and other girls.  One might have had bigger boobs, and I thought mine were too small.  Another one might have had pretty curly hair, and I was blessed with stick-straight hair.  I couldn't tell you when this changed.  At some point I no longer looked at what physical attributes others had and compared myself.  Instead as I grew more mature I could appreciate beauty in my friends and other women, without feeling like I was lacking just because I was different.  Small boobs?  Who cared anymore.  I mean big boobs just slapped you in the face if you went for a jog, whereas my little mosquito bites weren't likely to get out of control.  Curly hair?  Yes, still beautiful, but the straight mop on my head worked out great for the bedhead look.  So from the conversation with my friend I think we determined that once we hit that level of maturity where we are no longer in some form of competition with those around us, we start looking at changes we want to make to ourselves that are completely personal.  And what did I come up with for myself?  Well... it's something that has weighed on me since I was in 9th grade, and after a movie day with my boys where they asked to watch my wedding DVD over and over again, I decided it was time to do something about it.

When I was in 9th grade I got a couple extra adult teeth that I was not anticipating.  They broke through my gums in the wrong place.  This prompted a trip to the orthodontist for my braces consult.  The orthodontist said that he could correct the teeth but would not be able to fully correct my overbite because it was the result of a retrognathic jaw (upper jaw protrudes out and lower jaw does not come up and meet properly).  So off to the oral surgeon I went.  There I was told that in order to fix the problem, they would remove pieces of the upper jaw and screw it back together so that the lower jaw would meet correctly and if this did not fully correct my ... "abnormal, recessive chin then an implant could be put in."  Really, now what kind of doctor tells a girl in her adolescence that her face is abnormal???  We did not end up proceding with the surgery, but instead found a different orthodontist that used braces to align my teeth and fix the overbite (sort of).  I couldn't honestly tell you if I gave too much thought to the abnormal/recessive chin for a while after that as it was almost 20 years ago and I had a laundry list of other insecurities; but I never forgot those words. 

To this day I have never had anyone make a comment about my facial profile.  In fact everyone I mention my upcoming surgery to says they have never noticed anything or they think I'm crazy.  However, I never knowingly allow a profile picture to be taken of me and my husband constantly asks if everything is okay when my mouth is closed and he's looking at me from the side (because he thinks I'm pouting, when in fact that's just how my face looks) - talk about frustrating.  I don't like driving in the car because I know the passenger will be looking at me from the side if we have a conversation.  In fact, preparing for my wedding was nerve racking, because I knew that as I stood on the alter everyone in attendance would be seeing me from the side.  So this past summer, during our marathon session of watching my wedding DVD I suddenly realized that without him knowing how much my profile bothered me, my brother had managed to catch images of me from the side... repeatedly.  I love my wedding DVD.  It was an amazing day, and beautifully captured by my brother; but having to watch myself from the side with that profile I had loathed for years made my stomach turn.  When my husband returned home from work I was in tears at having to look at what image I was displaying to others routinely.  It didn't project the strong, secure image that I felt I gave from the front.  In fact I didn't feel like that profile fit with my personality at all.  After a long discussion with my husband, who thinks I'm beautiful no matter what, I made an appointment at a local cosmetic center.

So what happens next? Well, next Thursday I go under the knife. I'm beyond excited. They will make an incision in my chin, slide in an implant and stitch me up. My situation is further complicated by the fact that resting over my recessive chin is an overactive muscle. This means that when my mouth is closed, the muscle is active and noticeable. Can they correct this with surgery? Nope. The only fix for that is periodic botox - which I instantly declined. I mean if they make it so that muscle isn't active, then how could I possibly make the ridiculous faces that show up in most of the candid pictures people take of me?? I can't run or exercise for a couple weeks afterwards, which has me bummed because I was finally starting to take that bull by the horns. I also have to avoid full contact sports, or anything where you might get hit by accident - explain that one to my energetic boys. Put those two together - no exercise and no possibly injuring activities - and it looks like my husband who is due home soon from deployment will be sadly disappointed. But I soon will have a facial profile that mirrors the strong/dominant woman I am... no more of that recessive/weak crap. :)

Boys are disgusting

Okay, I'm shaking my head right now.  Are all boys as disgusting as my little monsters?  And at what point did they turn into such dirty little things? 

Right now they are on the couch playing with a refrigerator toy.  This thing asks them a question and then they push another button to record their answer.  After it's done recording, it plays back what they said.  Okay, so the question was "what do you do in the morning?".  Simple enough.  So they push the button and start rambling.  "I get up, I eat breakfast, I play with toys, I watch a show..." and I'm listening and thinking that all this sounds right.  But they keep going because they haven't said anything amusing enough yet, "...I pee in my pants and I poop in my underwear and my diaper my diaper my diaper..."!  Huh?  You would think my house was covered in nasty undergarments, but it's not.  And who is wearing a diaper that they are pooping in?  Is something only funny if it involves the words poop, penis or diaper?  I'm thinking yes.

The problem is this was just their dirty discussions.  On our walk home from school on Friday I observed my 5-year-old who was already all too familiar with the 5 second rule when you drop a fruit snack on the sidewalk.  Moments later he pulled his pants down to pee on some bushes and when some splattered and hit his hand, he felt the need to put those fingers in his mouth!!!  I was speechless.

I would have to say on a daily basis these boys perform some act that has me shaking my head and wondering where they come up with the ideas for their dirty games and disgusting actions.  I haven't ever peed on my hands and then put them in my mouth.  I certainly don't remember showing them how much fun it was to put a full roll of toilet paper in the potty and then ball up snowballs of it and throw them at the tub wall.  Certainly I must be getting paid back for something that my husband did as a child.  And everytime they do something nasty and then look at me and smile, their expressions look just like their Daddy's.

Frustrating Day

Today was a frustrating day.  I had spent the last month preparing for an open house for my business.  I really just wanted to have an occasion for people to come over, eat some food, socialize, and try out the products I've put so much work into creating.  I chose to have the event today because I wanted people to have time to settle down from the back-to-school rush.  I created an event on Facebook, because I felt like it was the easiest way to get the word out to people in this area (social media seems to be a prevalent means of communication here).  I invited the few people I knew, and asked them to pass the invite along to anyone else they thought would be interested.  13 people RSVP'd that they would come, and another 8 listed themselves as "maybe". 

With the date chosen and people indicating an interest, I knew I needed to get things in order.  I worked hard.  I created a catalog from scratch and had it professionally printed.  I meticulously assembled two dozen Pumpkin Creme Brulee pedicure sets.  I wrapped bath towels, and hand towels with raffia and placed them in wash basins so visitors could sit down and enjoy a personal pedicure while they chatted with friends.  I spent hours preparing products to have available for purchase and created a testing area where all the products could be tried out.  I cleaned for two days.  Prepared platters full of snacks.  As I look back on the month, I was busy getting things ready for today during any free moment that I was not taking care of my boys, or trying to complete work for my classes.

As I was putting food out this morning and brewing a pot of coffee, I chatted with a friend on Facebook who wanted to let me know that she wouldn't be able to make it.  Her inability to come was already assumed as she had just been blessed with a new baby boy 2 days ago, but I was grateful for the chance to hear from her and see how she was feeling.  The start of the Open House came.  The first guest to arrive was a close friend, and then another and another.  So was my day wonderful?  Of course, because I got to be surrounded by the company of three good friends whose love and support is unconditional.  We laughed and talked for hours.  But where was everyone else?  Where were all these other people who said they were coming, that I had prepared special items for?  Was this personal?  Why did my inner-self not allow me to do this to others when clearly they had no problem doing it to me?  Even though it may not have been done intentionally to hurt me, it certainly did hurt me.  Wasn't I worthy of a message to let me know that something had come up? 

Today made me wish for my friends from Maine.  I absolutely love the few close friends that I have made here in Washington, but why has it been such a struggle to find these loving and genuine people?  The kind that would drop anything to be somewhere for you.  Why does there seem to be such a large population of people that do not consider trustworthiness and dependability to be precious character traits?  Is it something that comes with age?  No, I can't believe that because a close friend who moved away months ago had a truckload of character and she was only 25.  Tomorrow I will feel better and I will start developing my next business plan (since clearly an Open House won't work), but tonight... after all the work that I put into today's flop... I think I've earned the right to curl up in a ball and be sad for a while.

But why Mommy? Why?

For some reason I thought the hardest part of walking my kindergartener to school would be getting there in time.  My 5-year-old loved to run ahead while my 3-year-old would doddle.  The 3-year-old would get distracted and want to collect rocks or point out cars as we walked by them.  We had done the trip to school a number of times before the first day just so I could get a sense of how long it would take and I could just feel that I would spend my mornings grinding my teeth as I tried to get us there before the bell.  Well school is now in full swing, and I have to admit that getting there in time has not been an issue.  If both boys run, we get there in 7 minutes.  If one of them doddles, we get there in 12 - and either way we aren't close to being too late or too early.

Okay so the most difficult part of getting to and from school seems to be in reminding the boys that it isn't safe to walk in the street!!  The sidewalk is clearly a different shade of gray, so it's not like they could easily be confused.  But every morning I get asked at least 5 times (by the 3-year-old) why he can't walk in the street.  Now I know he is familiar with the reason why, so what I can't figure out is why the question keeps coming.  Does he just like to hear my explanation?  Does he just want to ask me a question and can't come up with something else to talk about?  Does he want to hear his own voice?  Does he want to hear my voice?  Or is it truly that he is seeing how many times he can ask that same question (while standing barely in the street) before my head literally pops off. 

These boys definitely remind me why people who are mentally unstable might not be a good fit for parenthood - way too much patience required.  And why at the end of the day the only thing I really want to hear is the sound of... nothing. 

Strip Jeopardy

This morning I found myself a little frustrated.  I have always been the sort of person that likes to learn new things and share those things with others so they can also benefit.  So when I come across a piece of information that it seems someone else is lacking, I want to let him/her know about it so they can be better educated in their decision making.  In an attempt to help a friend this morning I was immediately confronted by someone who was of the opposite mind-set.  Here I was trying to help, and this other individual was clearly just wanting to have the last word and claim their dominance in the subject.  I knew my educated advice trumped their poorly informed opinion, but is there really a way to debate someone whose judgement is clouded by their testosterone?

It took me back to an evening 7 years ago when my boyfriend (now husband) and I were settled into our apartment.  I liked a good game of Jeopardy, so he suggested we could play "strip jeopardy" to make it interesting.  In the game of Jeopardy, it's not about who rings in the most, it's about who has the most right answers... but clearly someone has yet to convince my husband of this.  By the time we had finished the first round, I was still fully dressed, and he was sitting next to me completely naked.  I'm still giggling just thinking about it right now.  He made up the rules, yet didn't think to suggest that if you won a question you told the other person to take something off.  Nope, you only had to strip if you guessed wrong.  So why was I fully dressed?  Well, I don't ring in and answer unless I'm 95% positive that I know the correct response.  And unfortunately for him, there weren't any sports questions and he couldn't resist the urge to shout out incorrect answers.

  

So what does this have to do with my morning?  Well, I kind of came to the realization that there are some people who like to talk just to hear their own voices.  They genuinely feel that whatever their opinion of a subject is, it is more important than another person's professional/experiential knowledge.  Oh, and it's not worth arguing with them, because there is no one that can change their mind - besides, I can just blog about it to unleash my frustration.  As for my husband, we haven't had a round of strip Jeopardy since my 3-year-old was conceived, and he has started to realize that sometimes I know what I'm talking - only took 6 years of marriage.

Pandora's Box

Last week's topic in my MNT (Medical Nutrition Therapy) class was pharmacology.  We read up on what sorts of drugs may have direct interactions with foods we eat, and also what side-effects drugs may have that involve our nutritional health.  So for the weekly assignment, I was supposed to look for two research articles that involved a drug of choice and discuss its effect on food consumption, absorption, etc.  While this is pretty easy to find, I didn't want it to be easy, I wanted to look at something new that I hadn't researched before.  And didn't I manage to open Pandora's box.

So I looked into weight loss associated with ADHD (Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder) because I had seen individuals lose significant amounts of weight when their medication for this was adjusted.  Granted the people I had seen were adults, so the weight loss might not have been as serious as it would be for a child.  I wanted to look at the kids on these meds.  The first article I came across showed significant weight loss and height loss in the first year of ADHD medication use.  The greatest losses were for the heaviest and/or tallest kids (as expected).  What the study did not and could not show was whether these losses prevented these kids from reaching their expected height/weight in adulthood.  This concerned me.  The prevalent use of ADHD meds as of late hasn't yet had enough time to show what the long-term effects are in this realm.

I investigated further.  No not into more information about what the drugs can do, but what the alternatives might be.  Along came a different study that followed kids who were newly diagnosed.  Each of these children were also evaluated and found to have very mild cases of OSA (obstructive sleep apnea).  Does that mean all children with ADHD have OSA?  Who knows, anything is possible.  So the parents of these children were given the option to not treat the ADHD, treat with medication, or treat by giving the child an adenotonsillectomy (removal of the adenoids and tonsils).  What did they find?  Well the kids who received no intervention, showed no improvement.  The kids who received medication or surgery both showed significant improvement in their symptoms, but those who received the surgery showed even greater benefits over those who received medication.  Oh, and the ones who received surgery weren't having to deal with possible medication side-effects!!

This put a lot of thoughts into my head.  First, wow sleep is so important.  Look what lack of sleep or poor sleep is doing to our kids!  Second, if there is a way to correct this problem without the use of medication, why wouldn't everyone use this?  So I went to visit a friend to pick her brain about it.  She has a child who takes medication for ADHD, and also a husband who had recently undergone surgery to correct his sleep apnea.  I asked her, when she visited the medical clinic and her child was diagnosed with this condition, if he was ever referred to a sleep clinic or an Ear/Nose/Throat (ENT) doctor.  And ask I suspected, he wasn't.  The diagnosis of ADHD was arrived at with a 20 page questionnaire completed by the parents and a short visit with an over-worked physician - I imagine their circumstances for diagnosis weren't unique.  As my mind began to wander I came across one thought:  Do you remember how removal of the tonsils was like a right-of-passage when our parents were kids?  Everybody had them out.  These days it's not the case but look at what a large number of kids could possibly benefit from it. 

Now where do I take this information?  I have absolutely no idea.  I don't work at the local medical clinic.  I can't change their protocol and have a sleep clinic or ENT consult occur before medication prescriptions are given out, but what I can do is put the word out here.  We, as parents, are our child's best advocates.  A lot of people are not aware that there are alternatives for some children with ADHD.  If your child was recently diagnosed or had been diagnosed a while ago, ask your doctor about a referral to rule out mild obstructive sleep apnea.  It's just one more doctor's appointment that could provide incredibly valuable information if your child is affected by this.

Perfection is unattainable, but . . .

Candy Cane Soy Candle

While I consistently have to remind myself that it's impossible to be perfect or to do something that turns out perfect, it certainly is hard to keep from being disappointed when things don't turn out the way we want.  I had an issue recently with a candle I wanted to pour.  I had ordered a bottle of the new scent and had this vision in my head of what I wanted the final product to look like.  I began pouring, but I was too excited to see the final product, and thus hurried the process along.  This particular candle was going to have 5 different layers.  Each layer had to set up before the next could pour, but still needed to be a little warm so the layers would bind well to each other.  I allowed some cool air to pass through my studio in hopes it would cool the layers faster and let me continue pouring without such a long wait.  Well, it let me pour faster, but the final product had jump lines where the wax cooled too fast, and the binding of the layers was poor.  I was extremely disappointed.  The candle had the layers, and the angles I had dreamt up, but looked nothing like a product I would be proud to offer to customers.  Back to the work table the next day, with a clearer mind and calmer attitude, I began again.  The first day I only poured 2 of the layers and the next day I poured the remaining 3.  I keep the doors closed to keep the air warm, and I patiently waited after each layer to let the wax set up.  I had changed my design for the layers as well after seeing how much I disliked the first attempt.  And the results were... well... not perfect, but certainly as close as is possible.  I almost think that when we fail at first and then reattempt and succeed, it reminds us that we are human - but we sure do come equipped with amazing skills that create perfectly imperfect things.

Peeing your pants is not cool

I don't care what you say, Billy Madison, peeing your pants is definitely not cool.  Although if it was, then I would have been "the coolest", and amongst my friends you pretty much had to be a pants pee'er to get into our cool gang.  Alright, I'm lying about entrance to the cool group, but we certainly had many good laughs about our accidents.  And in case you were not yet aware, I'm not shy about talking about... anything!  Do I care that you now know that I peed my pants?  Nope!  Because if you ever had a conversation with me, I'd tell you all about it.  I'm a walking after-school special right here.

My journey with stress incontinence (peeing your pants when you cough, sneeze, or run) began when I squeezed out my first baby.  Yes, you could say that I pretty destroyed myself with that experience.  I recall laying in my hospital bed, recovering and thinking to myself that I should get up to go to the bathroom.  So I got out of bed and stopped to take a long peek at my new little monkey.  Suddenly I realized that I had to pee NOW!!  I started waddling to the bathroom, as you have to walk that way with the enormous diaper you wear after delivering, and commented to my husband that, "I'm peeing right now and I can't stop!!"  He thought this was hilarious, and has shared the story with all kinds of expectant parents.  My ability to control the pee got better as time went by.  I did my kegel exercises like crazy, but still had trouble when it came to jumping in dance class or attempting to jog.  If I felt a big sneeze coming on... look out!  And if I saw a trampoline all I really saw was soggy pants.  It was literally awful to be unable to get a grip on something that I thought I had mastered before kindergarten.

After my second baby came along, I decided to look into physical therapy.  I had heard that if your control muscles are weak enough, they will give you a "device" that's inserted into your "lady business" and then it gives you a little stimulation to encourage your muscles to contract.  Literally does a kegel for you.  Hello!  Sign me up!  Insurance will now pay for a vibrator??  Poor me, my muscles were too strong to show a need for this device, so I was stuck with more kegels and routine appointments to help my pelvis align correctly.  Did it help?  Well, in dance class I could now do leaps to the left with my better aligned body, but landing was still sketchy.  I gave up.  I had resigned myself to the fact that I would have to wear Depends, or a huge maxi pad, every time I wanted to go for a run.   It was my heel striking the pavement that caused the peeing, which wouldn't have been a big deal if I didn't want to be active... but I WANTED TO BE ACTIVE!!


I set up a routine check-up at the OB/GYN office and decided to inquire about a bladder sling surgery.  The surgery is supposed to lift your bladder back up to where it had been and hold it there, like you're putting it in a nice hammock.  The doctor informed me that a pessary might be a good starting point.  He also said that if enough damage had been done, then all the kegels in the world weren't going to help!  A pessary is like a rubber ring that you insert and pops into place just above your pubic bone and it pushes your bladder back up.  It also helps clamp down on your urethra a little.  So with my bladder back in place and a little extra leakage control on the urethra, I went for my first run in 5 years without peeing my pants.  It was as if the clouds had parted, and angels were singing to me while I ran.  Was I completely dry at the end?  Nope!  I sweat like a farm animal when I run, but at least it wasn't pee!  Do you pee your pants?  You don't have to tell me.  Most people are more shy about the topic, but according to webmd, 13.7% of women suffer with this on a daily basis - and it only gets worse as we get older.  Call your doctor today!  Don't deal with this for another moment when you don't have to.  I wouldn't advise running to the doctor's office as we know what happens when we do that, but perhaps afterwards you can celebrate on a trampoline.

Organization

Something happened when I was pregnant with the boys.  I have felt, for a long time, that any inclination you have to be a certain way gets amplified as a result of pregnancy.  Your brain becomes altered when it deals with all those pregnancy hormones.  If you had a tendency to be a procrastinator and a little on the lazy side, then look out because nothing is going to get done once you've had a baby.  For me, I had a desire for things to be organized, but I wasn't quite so dead set on this.  After having the boys, my Type-A side became exaggerated, and now I just can't switch it off.  Do I live in a completely organized house.. well, No.  And doesn't that make my brain go crazy!!!  So from my long hours during the day and sleepless nights, I've determined a little something about organization.  It is the key to running a well oiled machine (or household).  And once you determine a way to organize something that works for you, then you will never be disorganized in that realm ever again. 

I'll give some examples.  In my old house in Maine, we never had a good spot for the vacuum cleaner.  It used to drive me nuts.  No matter where we tried to stick it, it was always blocking something else, and the item being blocked always seemed to need to be used.  At our house in Washington, the vacuum cleaner has its own spot in the hall closet, and I find I vacuum more because I'm not so angry every time I have to put it away.  The daily influx of mail used to leave us with huge piles of papers that needed to be dealt with at a later time.  But all those papers floating around, meant that we were sure to forget to deal with them until the opportunity had passed, and thus they would just be thrown away.  Now, I only check the mailbox when I know I will have 5 minutes to go through the mail and sort for trash, recycling, shredding or saving.  Voila!  No more counters covered in paperwork.  Naturally, my 5-year-old just started school so we now add a new piece to the puzzle with that volume of incoming paperwork, but it shouldn't be hard to adjust my organization system.

So whatever your organization dilemma, all you really need to do is keeping trying different systems until you find the one that works for you.  Our most recent dilemma was the piles of clothes the boys would have in their poorly organized closets and dressers.  So we went and bought them some bins and shelving from IKEA this past weekend.  Now my 5-year-old won't have to pull out all his clothes just to get to one item, and I can trust my 3-year-old (pictured) to pull his clothes out himself without the danger of his huge old dresser falling on him.  Naturally he got to help with putting it together which also made him extra proud this morning when he went to this item he had built to pull out his garments.

Day Dreams

I'm a big fan of sleep.  I don't stay up late, because I know my days start early.  So why then don't my boys share this appreciation for rest?  My 3-year-old starts waking up anywhere between 2 and 4, coming in to make sure I'm aware that he's up.  If I try to settle him back down into his bed I risk waking my 5-year-old and if I let him lay down in my bed then somehow I end up with approximately 3 inches of my king-sized bed... there's just no good option.  My 5-year-old then decides to start his day around 5 or 6.  If he was a high school student, this would be great, but I'm sure his desire to do this will have stopped by then. 

So what is it then?  What makes them wake up, when it's still dark out, and decide that it's time to get up?  They must not realize what this is doing to mommy.  Not only does it make it impossible for me to re-establish my patience reservoir but it also makes them into moody little monsters that put an even bigger strain on my nerves.  How am I supposed to cut down on my coffee consumption when clearly the reason I need so much of it isn't changing?  I just keep telling myself that tonight they will drift off to sleep early and easily, and there will be nothing that encourages them out of bed before 7... ah silly day dreams.

Miraculous Trick for Weight Loss

Got your attention, didn't I?  Do people really believe this crap?  I see advertisements for it everywhere so clearly someone is eating this stuff up.  I truly believe it was my frustration with patients and their intense desire for a quick fix that caused me to become burned out when I was still working full-time at the hospital.  They would come into my office for some diet education, but they weren't there to be educated, they wanted me to tell them the big secret.  That miracle food to eat... the secret exercise trick that could be done in 3 minutes without sweating or getting off the couch.  Couldn't I give them a pill?  They had, after all, tried "everything"!!  I mean why wasn't the weight coming off?  They were making at least 20 laps to the fridge every single night after eating dinner.  Doesn't that distance count for exercise?  Ooooh, I was right - some of my the bitterness still exists today.

So I would ask them what they ate on a typical day, and they would either lie to me, or be completely honest.  There was no in between.  Those that lied to me, were obviously smart enough to recognize what they were eating that I was going to tell them to modify, "I only eat a salad with light dressing for the whole day."??  Those that were completely honest had not yet come to understand how poor their choices were, and thus saw no issue with 3 ice cream sandwiches after their 16 ounce steak and loaded mashed potatoes.  So we would start talking about my recommendations, the first of which was always to avoid snacking between meals.  I would get looks of desperation.  What?  What did you say?  No snacking?  But the magazine I read at the grocery store said to eat 5-6 small meals and the lady on the cover has lost weight!  I believe I had one outpatient that actually followed this advice and reported back to me about it, because she had lost weight.  The rest were not strong enough to craft their meals to be satisfying nor could they avoid the temptation mid-morning and mid-afternoon.  Why no snacking?  Well, if we give our bodies and opportunity to use stored fat for energy... it will!  If we eat every time we have a little dip in our blood sugar, then it doesn't need to use the stored fat because you're shoveling more energy into your mouth.  Plus, we can only fit a certain amount of food in our bellies before we feel uncomfortable.  So if you filled up your stomach at your meal, the odds are you would be eating less total calories than if you ate some at your meal and then added in snacks. 

When did we become such weak individuals?  There are so many things that play into whether we gain, lose or maintain our weight.  Food and exercise are two of the primary things we do have some control over so why are we unable to make the right choices?  Why are we so quick to choose surgical procedures?  Liposuction?  Honestly, those that look at this as an option are typically too large to utilize this for the type of results they want.  You can only remove so much volume before you have major life-threatening issues.  Gastric bypass entered the scene a while back, and actually is a great option for those who were morbidly obese or with co-morbidities like Diabetes.  This has become one option that has improve life-expectancy and health for those patients - but not without huge lifestyle changes and occasional complications.  Gastric banding entered the scene afterwards. 

Now what is the difference?  Gastric bypass is cutting and stapling the stomach.  The intestine is then re-routed to a new outlet from the stomach.  The procedure creates a smaller stomach pouch, and also removes a portion of the small intestine from the digestion line.  It works because you can't eat as much at one time, and you have to think harder about eating methods and your food choices.  Eat too much?  You'll throw up.  Eat too much sugar?  It will dump from the stomach into the intestine and you'll start sweating and feel like you're going to pass out.  Manage your diet well?  You'll lose weight because you're eating less and you're missing that part of the intestine, thus causing some malabsorption.  Gastric banding?  Honestly, my least favorite.  Still a surgical procedure, where they essentially put a belt around your stomach.  Shrinks the available size of your stomach, but is completely reversible as no cuts are made.  No removal of part of the intestine, so no malabsorption.  With gastric banding, they have made it so you can't eat as much at one sitting, so weight loss occurs because you are eating less.  What?  What did I just say?  "Weight loss occurs because you are eating less."  Holy crap!  It's a miracle!  You are forced now, to eat less, and weight loss happens.  Imagine if we could toughen up and do it on our own?  Would we get the same results, without an expensive procedure?  YES!!!  What's the difference?  If you make the changes on your own, you'll stick to it.  If you have the procedure done yet don't make changes in your habits, you will lose weight initially, but the stapled stomach can stretch back out after a few years and the lap band can be removed, and then what are you going to do?

The rewards are sweeter when we toughen up and make those hard choices.  Is it a long road ahead of you.  Most definitely.  But so worth it.