Diets and change

Last night I did a little tweaking here and changed the look of my blog. I'm not really inspired by the available themes but I don't feel like paying and I can't be bothered to figure out hos to do my own.

So yesterday I decided that I needed to take myself in hand once again and put myself back on the straight and narrow path leading to freedom from fat. Oh yes. Over many years of being overweight, losing it, gaining it back and worse, I've made some observations about myself.

1. That without fail, if I lose weight and regain it, I will always end up heavier than when I started.
2. Carbohydrates are easy to grab, easy to eat, are not as filling as they ought to be and leave me wanting more. Carbohydrates are not my friends.
3. Weighing and measuring food is tedious and leads me to become frustrated that it takes so long because I am hungry.
   
4. Having to watch what I eat means I have to remember that I am watching what I eat which in turn means I have to think about food more and in the end makes me want to eat!

I am sure I can think of more observations but I've probably demonstrated that I am not a happy Weight Watcher.

I'm past caring about people who can eat and never gain weight, or those who are too successful in their weight loss to be human. I'm also past wondering why I was born to be fat and how life isn't fair because there are worse things than being prone to obesity and all those are things that brought me down when I was younger. Right now, this minute, I am only interested in eating better for health.

At 52 I'm not aiming for the swimsuit show, the fashion show or any other kind of show; I'm aiming to keep my arteries open, my heart pumping and my knees from hurting. At my age, when I lose weight, I gain wrinkles. THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR NOT KEEPING THE WEIGHT DOWN WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG, PEOPLE!! I fear that my youthful looks will disappear and I'll start looking like a hag.

Hmm... Well the best I can hope for is good health and who cares what the hell I look like as long as I'm clean, tidy and well-dressed. I'm also practicing my smile. Seriously. When life was getting me down a few years ago I decided there was no use going around looking as miserable as I felt because no-one would want to talk to me, so I put on a permanent little smile, hoping that I was showing a pleasant face. I have no idea whether it worked or if I just scared people off looking half-demented, but in the end, the effort of keeping that little smile on my face paid off, because life didn't seem nearly so bad, and stretching that smile when greeting a friend was no effort at all. So recently I've been doing it again.

The early months of this year (excluding the highlight of my trip to England) were very difficult for me emotionally. I can't go into details here, but I was a complete emotional wreck with my self-esteem at an all-time low. Over the summer I've gradually been coming to and getting back to feeling like my old self again. The smiling exercise is helping, and hopefully, getting back on track with more controlled eating will help me too.

On matters of church

It's been a long while but I've finally relaxed this summer. Despite being busy, the change in pace and weeks without homework, carpooling and extra-curricular activities has allowed me time to focus on the home and getting things settled and organised. This time next month my cousin is coming to visit from England for a couple of days, so my next project is to get the guest room in order.

We are faced, in this family, with a moral dilemma of sorts. I work as a church secretary which means I am more involved than I might otherwise be in matters of the church. Not that I have an important role but I do find myself involved in discussions about declining Sunday school attendance and how we can overcome the mounting problems of an ever-shrinking membership. On the other hand, I am personally tired of it all. During services my mind wanders, as it always has, except during the sermons (our pastor delivers particularly engaging sermons which is one reason we are still there I think). When my children ask me what's the point in Sunday school, I no longer know what to tell them - the curriculum jumps around and the content of lessons sometimes does and often doesn't hold their interest. I can't remember the last time any of them came home with a smile and a story to tell. Sunday School and church are a torture to be endured as far as they are concerned. We have decided that for now we aren't going to make them go any more; a decision which has not been met favourably by the pastor.

In my mind I compare my own experience with that of my kids. There are several things lacking in their experience that I had:

• I grew up in a large, young and lively congregation
• I had many friends my own age within that congregation
• Once I was old enough to stay home alone, I was given the choice as to whether or not I went to church/Sunday school, no pressure and no questions asked
• Our congregation enjoyed a lot of big social events in which we all participated

These elements made the idea of church very positive for me. All that, coupled with the fact that these were the "Godspell", "Jesus Christ Superstar" and "Joseph and the Amazing Tehcnicolour Dreamcoat" years when young Christians were akin to hippies and flat-soled sandals were called "Jesus boots", meant that I not only had friends who went to church, but that it was "cool" to be a Christian. The only problem was that as we did all these "cool" things, like going to Christian rock concerts and sleeping overnight in the cathedral, always the message was that we should be able to "feel the Holy Spirit" and "feel Jesus within us". I realised at some point that try as I might, and much as I wished it, I was feeling nothing. At first I thought it was because I wasn't "good enough" so I tried to do better, but still I felt nothing. I prayed for Jesus to "enter my heart" but still nothing. What was supposed to happen? I don't know but I read a lot of stories about people who had been "saved" and how they felt an overwhelming sense of joy, peace, calm or some other warm feeling where I was feeling.... nothing at all.

By the time I was ready to leave home to go to college I had decided that this was never going to happen to me and that I was only actually going to church for the social life. I was seeing my friends at other times anyway so it was all a bit pointless to me. However, having been given the choice and the freedom to choose, it did mean (and still does) that I choose to return to the fold of the church at times in my life when it has felt right to do so. I've grown to realise that where some people really do have a strong faith and do believe that church is a place of renewal and growth, perhaps others might feel as I do, but since I have never been able to admit my feelings to other people at church, I don't know if that is true. Faith is not supposed to be about what one can get out of it, or a crutch to lean on in hard times, is it? If not though, why do people follow it, and why don't I feel what they feel?

Since as a teenager I never managed to reach that particular state of serenity that would make me feel that I could truthfully call myself "Christian", the best way I can describe myself is "agnostic". I wouldn't go so far as to say "atheist" because I've seen too much evidence of people with real faith, whose eyes are alight with joy and peace and because my own mother was a woman of deep and enduring faith. But because I can't feel it myself, despite repeating the mantras of Christianity, I don't even dare to call myself a Christian. I am not worthy.

I feel chastised by the pastor of my church because I told him we don't intend to make our children go to Sunday School this year. He told me he didn't feel it was in their best interests not to be made to go. I disagree. It's either time to go to a new church (but are there any that meet the high standards of that church of the 60's and 70's of which I have such happy memories?) or to go to none at all and let each of us find our own faith in our own way. Not an easy choice, but I strongly and firmly believe that as a family we (and I) need breathing space.

Summer time

It's been almost a month since my last post, for which I apologise. I've been through some difficult and trying times over the past couple of months and really haven't felt like blogging but life is looking up now and I'm ready to roll.

We are into the fourth week (yes, fourth already!) of the schools' summer vacation and I'm as busy as ever. I've given up my church job to DD1 for the summer which means I can spend more time at home with the other two.

The first vacation week was spent having the new carpet installed in the living room, stairs and hallways and then putting things back in place. My goal was to avoid putting everything back just as it was - the new paint and carpet really begged for a more minimalist look which I have achieved. I just need to get the junk and clutter out of the guest bedroom. We are getting there, slowly but surely...

The second vacation week was equally busy - this time with four days (evenings) of Vacation Bible School. It's always hard work but usually worth it. I've already said I won't be doing it again but DD2 and DS have asked me to do it. We'll see. They'll both be a year older next year and maybe not so enthusiastic. I'm glad we did it even though the first evening was a mess. Also that week I began my new summer regime of preserving two days a week upon which I'm not expected to run a taxi service and one day per week to be TV-free (which also means no Wii either). It went very well, I must say, resulting in a more efficient and more relaxed mother.

Week three was the first week when we were able to follow the new schedule without interruption. My busiest driving days are Tuesday and Thursday. Wednesday is Cleaning Day, No TV/Wii Day and a No Driving day. This resulted in a very productive day of housework, after which we all rejoiced in the house being the cleanest it's been in a very long time. We rewarded our hard work with a delivery of Papa Gino's pizza. I find that scheduling certain chores is helpful in making sure everything is done but what isn't completed on that day isn't necessarily going to be done! So. Monday is grocery shopping day and Thursday is laundry day. Having accomplished everything, and Friday being the first fine day all week, I took DD2 and DS to Southwick's Zoo for the day.

The zoo visit was really fun. Neither of the kids remembered what it was like to go to a zoo. Even though we took DD1 often when she was very young, the other two had no memory of it. They enjoyed every bit of the day, and I enjoyed their company. We hope to be able have another outing soon.

The end of the rainbow

Several years ago when my eldest daughter was only six or seven years old, I painted her room with a pastel rainbow arcing from one end of the room to the other. She was only to occupy this room for a couple of years before her younger brother moved in and she moved into another room which she shared with her sister. When he was little, he didn't take much notice of the rainbow but by the time he was seven he started asking me to remove it or cover it up. Well now he is ten and the job is finally done.

We thought we'd paint it one dark shade of blue, but the test patch we did showed us it was far too dark. It was decided that we'd have stripes instead, so I measured the wall and planned the design on the computer, then taped up the stripes on the wall. (I did it properly with a plumb line - I was so pleased with myself.)


The next image shows the whole wall, complete with the dark patch of test paint - which proved hard to cover up. The room is small and this, the long wall, is ten feet long.


I chose three shades of blue to paint the stripes, and started with the darkest. This is how it looked after the first coat of paint.

Clearly it was going to take more paint, but I wanted to do more stripes before starting on second coats. So I added in the medium shade of blue.


Then, two more coats of paint on each of those colours later, I was ready to remove the tape.



The hardest part proved to be filling in the remaining spaces with the last colour - a light blue that was a close match to the paint used in the rest of the room. However, I am pleased with the end result and besides a little touch-up work still to be done, I'm pleased with the result overall.

We aren't ready to post a final picture showing the room put back together but I think it'll look good.

Twittestalking

I'm sure there's a twitterword for twitterstalking, but I don't know what it is. Twitterstalking is where people follow people just because they're curious. It doesn't include following celebrities - many of them are there self-promoting and sucking up the attention, knowing that the adoring fans will hang on their every word and directmessage them in the hopes of getting a reply. Twitterstalking is more like lurking a

Dead goldfish aside....

We had a FAB time in England last month. I can't tell you how much I enjoy going back to my homeland - perhaps going there on holiday is better than living there because I certainly couldn't afford to spend money like that all the time! I haven't had the opportunity to seriously consider going back there to live permanently, and I wonder how much I really want to. There are aspects of life in the USA that I would really miss and there are things in the UK that I would find frustrating I am sure. One day, if the matter arises, I'll sit down and thrash out the pros and cons of a return to England. The photos are posted here, together with Prom pictures.

Since that time, domestic life has consisted of the usual dramas and non-dramas associated with an ordinary family. On a personal level, it's been a month of scattered showers with sunny intervals, which is probably as it should be. I could have done without the massive storm in the middle, but all in all, life goes on and we go along with it, come what may.

One week later

A week after returning from London, I've come back to earth and fallen back into the old routines of family life.

The days I spent in London with my two youngest children were full of fun and adventure in the mildest, yet most pleasant sense. Suffice it to say that we saw most of the important sights and enjoyed many of the activities that London has to offer.

For me, the best parts were meeting up with my friends and relations and enjoying all the activities in good company. I am so grateful that so many wanted to take the time and effort to travel to London to see us - it's my old friends and family that I miss the most when I'm back in America. However, a week later, I'm comforted by the fact that I'm extremely fortunate to have some very good friends here too and that they, too, were pleased to see me on my return.