Daddy Goes to Vegas

Dear John,

Your daddy went to Vegas and all we got were some pictures.  :)

 

 

 

 

Love,
Mom

Not the Woman I Used to Be

Dear Sydney and John,

People make New Year's Resolutions all the time -- every year, in fact.  Most people never keep them.

Your dad made one this last year.  He decided it was time to lose the extra weight and get healthier.  He started working out, eating right, and the pounds and inches melted away.

Jeremy and John in Jeremy's old suit.

I had a choice then: to get on board with this new lifestyle or stay where I was and risk losing the best opportunity I would ever have to change my weight, my health.

It was a hell of a decision.

Your dad wanted to lose weight.  I wanted to eat.  I loved eating.  I had completely resigned myself to being a fat woman.  I was comfortable in my ample skin and truly believed that as long as I thought I was beautiful, that was all that mattered.

Before your dad's weight loss, I had envisioned a future for us that involved a retirement at home, steadily declining health, and really, it would be okay because we would be there together.  Then your dad started his health kick and as he was literally adding active years on to his life, I suddenly saw my weight as burden holding us back from European vacations, cruises, trips to see you kids and play with the grandkids.

I suddenly wanted something more than I wanted to eat.  I wanted this healthy lifestyle that would enable me to have all that time with you kids and your dad.

I started with calorie counting.  It is amazing to me how much of weight management is math.  Measure the portions and count the calories.  It sounds so easy.  It wasn't.

I was hungry so much of the time.  I was resentful of my self for eating my way into that situation.  I was resentful of your dad for changing our marital standards... we had gotten married fat, why couldn't we stay that way?  I was resentful of you kids, because without you, I would be free to eat a gallon of ice cream a day if I wanted to.

Then the first ten pounds came off and then the first twenty and suddenly the hunger was less and the excitement of the results outweighed the resentment and frustration.

At thirty pounds, people started noticing I was losing weight.

At fifty five pounds, I saw the other side of two hundred and it felt so good!

Sydney and me in my old pants... the ones that had gotten too tight when I finally decided to lose weight.

My first goal was always to get to 185.  My sister, who has a very similar build, had always encouraged me in my weight loss, always told me that "we" (her and I) look really good at 185.  And it was true that I had seen my sister, whose weight can fluctuate wildly, look really, really good at 130 and still look great at 185.

This morning, the scale gave me that magic number.  185.  That means I have lost sixty-nine pounds.  You two kids weigh less than that together right now at five and two.

I'm not done and I'm not dieting.  I finally see the food addiction for what it is.  Just like quitting smoking when your dad and I found out we were pregnant, there is no going back.  There are relapses and bad days, but having looked addiction in the eye, it's impossible to ignore it, deny it, or pretend it doesn't have a hold.  Like an alcoholic who can never again just have a "social" drink without plummeting down that slippery slope, I can never again ignore what goes into my body.

From 254 to 185.

My next goal weight is 150.  I don't know what that will look like or feel like.  But I do know that 185 feels as light as a feather and looks like heaven to my eyes.  The mirror finally shows the woman I have had in my mind's eye all this time.

I don't really know how the two of you see me now, or how you saw me then.  I suspect that it's all the same to you.  But I do know that you both love the new level of activity in my life and the ease with which I get up and down off of the floor to play with you.  I grew up with an overweight mom and I know that I never once, not as a child, a teen, or adult, never once have I cared what she looked like.  But I have always cared when she didn't feel good, or couldn't go do something with us because of her weight.  I watched her struggle with her weight her whole life and I know if she could go back in time to her 30's, when it was easier to do something about her weight, she would.  So this year, right now, while I can, I'm doing this for you, for your dad, for my mother and sister, and mostly, for myself.

Love,
Mom

When Daddy's Away

Dear John,

I don't like announcing to the world that your daddy isn't home.  It seems as imprudent as announcing that the house will be empty and ready for burglary.

But now that he's back, I can tell you how that went for us.  (I am letting him blog about his adventures in Las Vegas, going to the SEMA show with some friends.)

First of all, I got everyone to school on time.  I even made beds before we left in the morning.

I did not, however, check the weather.  That's how I wound up at school in 40 degree weather with a thin shirt, a knee-length skirt and sandals on Thursday morning.  Happily, Mrs. Z took pity on me, let me borrow a jacket and let me know about the forecast for the next day.

I did get to the grocery store to buy you diapers before you ran out.  I even remembered the size and brand.  It's not my fault that they make two different types of Pampers!

I got you and your sister fed each evening.  Nevermind that Mrs. Hazen was with us at Red Robin, that Sara the babysitter fixed your dinner Thursday, that Mrs. Robinson got you pizza Friday night or that my principal got us dinner Saturday as a thanks for helping with the science lab.  Nevermind all of that.  You were fed.

I cleaned out my car.  Only I waited until Saturday and it turns out that your daddy is right and cleaning it out daily is more efficient.

I made my coffee each morning as usual.  The coffee machine itself, though, seemed to have broken as its self-cleaning feature was off and I had to take care of yesterday's grounds each morning before making new coffee.  On a related note, the coffee cups did not march themselves in from the car, rinse themselves out, and present themselves ready on the counter for a new day's coffee.  Strange.

The main thing that came about with the absence of your daddy (other than all of us missing him terribly) was that I had the opportunity to take care of a little project.

You see, I have been telling your daddy for months that I want this nasty carpet gone from the playroom.  Ideally, I would like wood laminate in its place, but mostly, since I know the tile underneath it is just fine, if not what I really want, I just wanted the carpet to go away.  Your daddy either couldn't think of how to make that happen, or just didn't care enough about the project to put his time and effort into it.  And if I started something like this with him at home, he would have felt compelled to help and then resented having to help since he didn't want to do it in the first place, yada yada yada.

So I channeled the other women in your daddy's family... Gram, Nana Nolen, Aunt Rachel and Grandma Nolen and did just what I'm sure they would have done in that situation.  (I tend to think that Nana Roberts either would have decided she didn't care that much or she would have made certain that Papa Roberts knew exactly how important the job was to her.  And then he would have just done it, you know.)

I took the first opportunity your daddy was out of the house to take care of it myself.  I went to Wal-Mart and got a box cutter and a bunch of blades.  Read on the internet how to change the blades and then tried it out in a corner where I could hide the evidence if need be.

Not too bad.  From there, it seemed like being the mafia trying to hid a body... you cut it into small enough pieces and you can dispose of it anywhere.

I actually enjoyed the process a lot.  I hadn't been able to go work out while your daddy was gone and between the arm work and the fact that I wound up squatting to do a lot of the work once the tile was exposed because being on my knees on the tile hurt, I got a great arm and leg work out.

In the end, I was happy with the room, although I still want wood laminate.  Maybe the next time your daddy goes out of town...

 

Love,

Mom

P.S.  Your dad is reading over my shoulder and wants me to at least mention the casualty rate...

But really, three nicks and two carpet burns are small price to pay.  Apparently cutting away from the body and wearing work gloves are both important rules for this kind of work.

At Mama's School

Dear John,

You and your sister had so much fun helping me and some other teachers reorganize the Science Lab on Saturday.

You got to blow up balloons, which you thought was the funniest thing ever.

 You found lots of cars and tractors to roll around on the floor.

You got to take a nap in mama's classroom -- well, that part you didn't "enjoy" so much as "resent" but it bought me an additional three hours in the room, an hour and a half of napping and an hour and a half of happy playing.  So I enjoyed it.

 And after your nap, you got to play some more, which you did enjoy quite a bit.

I'm glad that my classroom is such a fun place for you and your sister to be.

Love,
Mom

Being Superheroes

Dear Jack,

Today, on the way home, I called to see if Andrew's mom was up for a little adventure. Since she was still at work, the answer was obvious. So instead, we just went and got Andrew and went to the park for a little adventure of our own.

We quickly decided on playing superheroes. Andrew wanted to be Spiderman. Your sister was Wonder Woman. I was Hot Lava Girl. The other little boy at the park was Batman. You, wearing your peace sign shirt, announced you were Happy Peace Guy and there we were, a motley band of crime fighters.

We had a lot of fun just running around the park, pretending different elements were different vehicles or places for the crime fighting action.

That's right. We had a lot of fun just running around the park.

I didn't just sit on a bench watching your fun, or even stand around somewhat involved. I climbed the playscape, slid down the slides and chased the imaginary Cat Woman along with you and your friends.
I rode the teeter totter with you and your sister as we called it the Bat Mobile.

I helped you solve puzzles to get us closer to finding our invisible foe.

I pushed you and Andrew and your sister on the swings. A lot.

And I just ran. Ran after you. Ran after your sister. Ran after Andrew.

It felt so wonderful to be so involved in your play. It felt wonderful to be able to climb a playscape and not wonder if I would put my foot through it. To slide down a slide and not think I would be breaking my neck. To not just walk up the steps to the landing, but to use the foot holds and other climbing spaces to navigate the structure.

I haven't talked a lot about my recent weight loss because I have been waiting until I reach my first goal to write some celebratory post about the journey.

But being able to slide down a slide holding your sister, being up on the playscape with you, chasing after you both, felt so worthy of its own little celebration.

I knew every struggle from the last year was worth it when we were driving home and your sister asked, "Did you just learn how to play like that, Mama?"

You won't remember that I ever didn't.

Love,
Mom

Why You Should Know Local Politics

Dear John,

Your dad was gone this evening and I was doubly committed -- to a district event and a Bunco game (clearly one more important than the other, though I won't say which is which). 

Enter Sara.

She is our current teen sitter, since both Ally and Angie went off to college (although I suppose Angie was more your sister's sitter than yours, having gone off to college the fall after you were born).

I know you had a great time with Sara and she was so proud of how she got you to go to bed without much fuss (although you did throw her off by refusing your bed, opting instead for the floor by the door).  I love that she left your door open so that you wouldn't feel all trapped in your room with your parents gone.

I asked her to take some pictures of the things you guys did while she was with you.  She happily obliged, and even tried to get a video of you singing "I am the Church" (which is what your sister's choir recently sang in church and which Sara's mom pointed out might be of particular significance to you since you are discovering that your name is part of our church... St. John's.... you really are the church, Sara's mom said, which I thought was hilarious).

 

 

 

In the midst of the pictures of you and your sister doing arts and crafts and playing board games, Sara got the picture that I think shows tangible proof of your sister's love for you... her sharing her new birthday camera from Aunt Rachel with you.

 

I had an okay time at the district event, but the number of people who knew who I was and why I was there made it so that I was very, very, very glad I went.  I had a great time at Bunco afterwards, though, and was so glad I went to that.

I do have to share this one story with you, though, as your mother tries to enter the world of hobnobbing and attending fancy district shindigs....

I went to the party knowing I would have to make small talk and mingle and otherwise be sociable.  So when I arrive and saw an older gentleman getting out of his car just behind me, I walked in with him, chatting.  He asked my name and gave me his.  I mentioned that I was a teacher in town.  He asked how long I had been in the district (I told him five years, though I wish now I had gotten confused and told him four).  Since this event was for local businesses as well as educators and he still hadn't given me much indication of who he was, I asked how he was involved in the event.  He said, and I quote, "I'm the mayor."  Followed shortly by, "And I was the interim superintendent of schools five years ago."  I stopped, looked at him and said the only thing I could think of.  "I guess I should have known that.  I'm sorry."  He smiled and made it be okay and when we got inside and there was a table of name tags, I looked right at him and said, "Well now that I know who you are, I guess I can find your name tag" and handed his to him.

It was terribly awkward, but happily the only akward moment of the evening.  The rest of the time I found church friends (and really, who knew our church had so many connected individuals) and chatted with them or found people who knew my school and I could happily chat about the school and how wonderful it is to be there.

I almost wanted to be sorry I wasn't at home with you, but when I saw the pictures of the evening, I knew you were far happier with Sara to entertain you than you would have been with just a tired from the school day mama.

I guess that's why we hire teenage babysitters.

Love,

Mom