Productivity and ..... Seeing the big picture

Lately, my family has been very...busy. We have finalized an adoption of our third (and I'm now convinced final) child, we have sold our home and moved into a mobile home on rented property. I have accompanied our teens to church camp. Next week my husband will help bring the kids. 

There's one thing in particular that has captured everyone's attention. A lot of people seem to be focused on the fact that we sold a "real" house to buy and live in a mobile home. They don't understand it. It's counterproductive to what we are taught is the end goal in our society. "Powerful,handsome, successful, happy", we chant to ourselves before we rush out the door in an effort to somehow make that chant come true for us. We need a bigger house. We need a nicer car. We need designer clothes. We need the "freedom" that comes from being an entrepreneur and able to take in limitless amounts of cash with minimal effort. 

In the past couple of years God has truly been the Potter in my life. One day during one of those shaping sessions, I was trotting (can't REALLY call it running) through an affluent neighborhood looking at all of the extravagantly lovely homes and daydreaming about "one day". One day when we can afford to give our family all of this... The Holy Spirit spoke to me (in that way He has) and asked me to look closely. What would I give them? Four beautiful walls to shut us in from the ones we should be broken for? Holy as I am, I immediately presented my side of the argument. I mean, if we were able to have a home such as this just THINK of all the foster children we could take in! Then God slapped me in the face with it. I was doing myself a service and disguising it as charity, because again it made me look golden. 

Am I saying the 'haves' have it all wrong? No. I'm saying that we really have to examine ourselves. God wants to grant us the desires of our hearts...when they line up with HIS will and plan for us. We are so easily swayed and so shortsighted. We have to be careful of our motives. To chase after Jesus isn't to better our selves and look out for us. Jesus himself was the epitome of self sacrifice. When we run hard after the heart of God it doesn't always make sense to the naked eye, but oh the experiences we will have, the difference we will make and the true happiness there is to be found. 

For some, running hard after God looks like leaving everything behind to go into the mission field. For others, it looks like being our own boss to free up time and money to donate to worthy causes. And for others still having a heart like God's looks an awful lot like selling your house and buying a mobile home so that you have your resources freed up for what's next...even when it's not clear what it is. 

And you know what's funny? When I gave up what I thought I wanted and surrendered to what God has in store for us, He blessed me. Not only with the peace and contentment that just confirms I'm where I need to be, but He granted me the soaking tub that all tired Mamas dream of. Because He loves me. Because He wants nothing but the best for me. Not just here and now, but for eternity. 

I have a long way to go, and maybe that's why God hasn't revealed the next part of His plan just yet. He knows I might faint. But here and now I'm learning to surrender. 

716 days

A lot can happen in 716 days. 716 days ago, my phone rang. The lady on the other end asked me if I was ready for another baby. (We had just sent our last foster baby back to his mom the month before). I told her my husband and I would pray and get back to her. We called her back and said yes. 

I ran to the hospital to meet a two day old baby who would not eat. The nurses asked me to try and give him a bottle. He was so lethargic, the only milk he drank was what dripped from the nipple as I held it in his mouth. The nurse took him away to put a tube down his nose, through which to feed him. He is having drug withdrawal symptoms they said. He needs to be in the NICU. My heart broke for him and I began to pray for this little boy who had yet to receive a name from his parents. He was just "baby boy". 

I prayed fervently for "Baby Boy" for days. I called the NICU for updates. Then, one day, I told God "he is a PERSON. He needs a name. Please God give me a name to call out to you." I found the name Ezekiel, which means "God strengthens". This baby had lost a whole pound due to his withdrawal symptoms. He still was not eating. He needed God to strengthen him. And so I prayed for "Ezekiel". 

Immediately, his condition improved. He began taking feedings by mouth. His symptoms began to fade. And then they called me one day. "His parents have named him. He has a relative that will take him. We don't need you after all." I was disappointed, but I thought that maybe God wanted me in his life just long enough to have someone interceding for him. "That's that," I thought. 

My phone rang. "That relative can't handle him. Do you still want him?" And so I rushed to the hospital once more. And this time I didn't leave without him in my arms. It's a strange sensation. Leaving a hospital with someone else's baby cradled in your arms. Or it felt like someone else's baby then. I kept waiting for a nurse to chase me down and tell me there had been a mistake; that I couldn't actually take home a baby that didn't belong to me. We made it to my car, however, and drove away. Me and a baby boy in a pink car seat. 

My heart grieved for all his parents were missing. Babies grow so swiftly, and they were missing it! Every week I would bring him to a cold, impersonal office to visit these people to whom he was supposed to belong. They would coo and ooh and aah over him, but they did not know him really. They didn't understand that he was fussing because he was unaccustomed to being cradled on that side since I'm left handed. They didn't know that he loved baths and hated to be burped. How is he theirs? 

I tried to hold myself apart. I really did. I did my best to be hands off when he was with his family; giving them the chance to bond with him. He's theirs after all. But babies are so intoxicating. I fell in love anyway. I prepared myself for the eventual heartache of having to return him to his rightful family. I even prayed for them to get better so they could all be reunited, and I meant it! But they didn't get better. And my heart broke for him. 

He grew into a happy baby in those 716 days. He reached for me when I tried to give him to his parents at those weekly visits. He didn't know these people. I could tell it was getting to them when his mother tossed him into my arms; so annoyed was she that we had to end the visit early because he wouldn't stop crying for me. "He's spoiled. You should put him in day care." I cried that day. Not for me, but for him. "It's not his fault that you're a stranger to him," I wanted to scream! Instead, I muttered something apologetic about him being tired, and I bundled up my baby and left. 

Yes, that's when it started. He was MY baby. Not theirs. But I didn't dare say it out loud. His relative (who decided not to take him) asked to house him over the holidays. I reluctantly agreed. A drug exposed baby is a difficult undertaking and I was tired. I sent him to their home, outwardly hoping they would get a taste of what it feels like to be whole and that it would motivate them. Inwardly, I was terrified it would work. 

The holidays were over and I went to pick him up at a meeting spot we had arranged. They drove up and the baby was buckled into the car seat, but the car seat was not buckled into the car. The baby, seat and all, was lying on his side. I was livid. How dare they be so careless and endanger MY baby! There it was again. Not my baby. Their baby. No, MY baby. It didn't matter. The holiday together changed nothing. I talked to his parents. I encouraged them. I prayed for them, but that downward spiral is something only Jesus can fix and only from the inside out. So I prayed for them. I still do. 

The time came when everyone involved had to come to face the fact that this child (and his siblings) need stability, security and a loving, safe home. It seemed highly unlikely that his parents would ever be able to provide these basic things for their children. So the court made the difficult decision to terminate the parents' rights to their children thus making them free for adoption. We were asked if we would consider adopting. Just try and take this child away from me! Just. You. Try. 

A lot can change in 716 days. Despite my efforts to prevent it, my heart had been expecting. 716 days ago, my heart became pregnant with hope. Today it gave birth. The most difficult pregnancy I have ever experienced has finally come to fruition and produced a SON. His name is Ezekiel and he is with his rightful family. 716 days ago I met a baby. Today, by the grace of God, he is MY baby. 

Here I Am

I'm re-discovering a lot about myself lately. Things I knew about myself, but I forgot. Like, I am not a distance runner, but I'm exhilarated by speed. I am inherently lazy and, if I do not exercise self discipline, I will never exercise again. (I have not had self discipline for quite some time now.)

 I miss knitting. I miss writing. I miss leisure reading. I like junk food and don't have any self control where it's concerned. I miss feeling good about my food choices. I want to learn French. 

Where did all that stuff go? Where did I go? Well, I brought my daughter to dance class. I brought my son to soccer practice. I brought my foster child to visit his biological family. I home schooled. I led a home school co-op. I ran a home. There wasn't time for all that other stuff. 

Or was there? What about all those minutes wasted on social media? What about those minutes "surfing" the net? 

What about all those grocery shopping trips where I could have bought good food, but I bought what was "cheapest" instead? What about all that ice cream I ate after all those bedtimes? Junk food eaten while staring at a screen. 

My life is full of choices. I made them. When I made the wrong ones I lost pieces of me. My hobbies, my dreams, my health (to some extent). I've been grumbling about being overly busy. About not having time for what makes me smile. Have I even tried? Have I made choices that will allow me to do what I love? To participate in what interests me? To make me a better me? Have I? 

The beauty of life is that every moment is a choice. You make choices right up until the moment you leave this earth. Our choices affect who we are now and who we are for eternity. We just have to be mindful of making the right choices. 

So here I am. On the precipice of more choices. Big ones. Little ones. Every day ones. Life altering ones. Here I am. Where will I go? 

Homestead sitting....and Shenanigans

I keep saying, " I'm going to write a blog post," then I never get to it. Look! I started. Beware. My week has been eventful. This may get long. 

I have just recently spent a week giving my mom a much needed break. About a year ago (when mom remarried) she and her new love bought a beautiful house and acreage. They plan to have a farming venture, but as of now it's a rather large homestead. They've been working hard clearing places for pasture here and planting the world's largest kitchen garden there. 

So I get a call one day asking me to house/animal sit so they can turn a business trip into a mini vacation/1st anniversary trip. Excuse me? Go stay in the pretty 100+ year old house and tend some cute animals? Don't mind if I do!!!

Here's the animal count thus far on "Good-O" Farm: 2 cats, 2 goats, 9 chickens and their 2 dogs plus my one makes 3 of the canine variety. Not really all that much to care for. Perfect to give this bayou girl a taste of what she hopes will one day be her life! Yay! 

So I pack my truck full of my one dog, two kids and one infant foster child (along with all the things they require) and we're off to play on the farm! The farm is too far away for my big, strapping, extremely helpful husband to be able to come and help. He's got to be able to get to and from work. But that's okay. I mean sure with a baby it can be pretty tiring but how hard can it be? This is the part where my mother starts laughing maniacally. 

We are on our 4th week of school with the new curriculum and loving it. I'm not about to lose steam now. So that means school comes to the farm too. All of it. Did I mention we're using a literature based curriculum this year? "Literature based" is exactly what it sounds like. Books galore. I have one suitcase that's just books. Just. Books. 

We leave my daughter's dance class and get to the farm just in time to feed and lock up the animals before dark. Mom left instructions. Pop suggests I wash and wax the John Deere. He's funny, that guy.

The chickens go to the coop all by themselves around dark so I just have to get the goats fed and into their enclosure where they'll be safe from the wild animals. I'd hate to have a T-Rex nom my parents' goats. The goats are brush clearing goats so they're set up in a portable pen that consists of a large outer area where they're roaming and eating whatever strikes their goat fancy and a smaller inner area that's more secure where they bed down at night. Four text messages and a phone call later, I have finally figured out how to get INTO the goat enclosure. Now to outwit them and get them bedded down. This takes more time than I'm comfortable admitting.....I go inside and spend half the night shushing excited children and dogs.

And the evening and the morning were the first day. 

I get up early the next morning because my mother's enormous hound mix has her sloppy hound lips on me. She wants out. Why I don't know because she AND her tiny dachshund mix housemate have relieved themselves all over the hundred year old wood floors. Fabulous. I let them out, clean the mess and start the day. 

After school we are out and about with the dogs (mine on leash because he thinks chickens taste like, well, chicken) when I see goats bounding and playing freely OUTSIDE their enclosure. This is not good. I start "herding" the goats back toward the fence. They start butting the dogs who, of course, must give chase. 

The hound mix who, again, is huge (at least 80 pounds) tries to dodge the goat. She slams into my knee and pops the knee cap out. I go down and concentrate on not screaming because children. I assess the damage and realize the knee cap is back where it should be so, while I'll be in pain for a while there's no need for a doctor. Meanwhile my son, who is smarter than me because he's home educated, has taken the "work smarter, not harder" approach. He remembers the goats love pecan leaves so he gets a large stick full of them and lures the animals peacefully and quietly back to the safety of their enclosure. I am proud of his quick thinking and chagrined that I didn't think of it first. To this day I have no clue how those goats escaped. 

The evening and the morning were the second day. 

I started separating the dogs at night so I can sleep. Only took me one whole sleepless night of chasing dogs with a broom to think of it. 

This day, though, day three? This is the day I wanted to laugh and cry all at once because the level of shenanigans is absolutely absurd. 

So now I have a bum knee, in a stiff brace, in a century old house. My bed is upstairs. I could sleep downstairs, but alll the children are upstairs. Including the baby. Up and down I go. Steep, tiny stairs. I go to take a shower. This house was built before bathrooms. At some point the previous owners decided to bring it into the modern age by adding a bathroom/laundry room/why is the hot water heater right there? 

There is no tub. There is a minuscule shower stall that, if I were 6 pounds heavier I might have to wash half of me at a time. It reminds me of the showers I used when we owned a camper as a kid. There is no way possible to shave your legs in this shower. My mom does hers at the sink. Bum knee = hairy legs. Guess I'm wearing jeans. 

I'm ready to take the kids out to one of the little country stores. I have the spare key my mother left me in my hand when I shut the door . At some point between then and when I got to my vehicle, the key magically vanishes. This house eats things. I'm also missing a DVD player remote and 2.5 socks. 

We return from the store with nothing we need but some nice treats. I also had to purchase more pacifiers for the baby. The house didn't eat them but the dogs did. Three in as many days. 

And the evening and the morning were the third day. 

By day four, I wake up thinking what else could possibly happen?! Then my dog nearly eats a chicken. I hear panicked clucking and turn around to see that one of the old girls got just a little too close. I command the dog to release. Miraculously, he does. The chicken is indignant and missing a snoutful of feathers but otherwise okay. She lives to lay another day. 

I learned a lot about working a homestead this week. Even though I only did half the stuff my mom does day to day. I learned I want no dog bigger than me. I learned I could take or leave having goats. I learned I want a tub in my house...and I DON'T want stairs. 

I learned precisely when the fireflies come out to play. I learned that hands on work brings my children satisfaction and joy. 

And I learned I'm yearning for a simpler life even more than I realized. One day, in God's time, in His way we will have our little homestead. And I still won't wash and wax the John Deere.....

Thirty

I haven't written a post in a long time! I've been so busy with finishing up the school year and having a foster placement AND deciding now would be a good time to paint the house! I had to squeeze in the time for this one though. Why?

Thirty. Yep. I turned 30 yesterday. When you have a birthday, in general, it sets you reflecting upon your life. At least it always does me, and thirty is one of those birthdays where everyone reminds you it's a landmark. Some people have an existential crisis when they turn 30. I am not some people.

Turning thirty didn't fill me with dread or send me on a soul searching 'what have I done with my life' journey. I slid into 30 quietly. Surrounded by my family and friends who care for me. So the only epiphany I had this year was that I am healthy(er), doing what I was made to do, happy and (most of all) joyful. 

Happiness happens, but JOY comes from deep within your soul, a place only God can reach, regardless of circumstance. At 30 I am blessed to know both and blessed to know the difference. 

A Hidden Trigger...

I explained a couple of posts ago, that I have recently gone gluten free at the suggestion of a natural health specialist. My plan was to wait and see if I had any tummy troubles for a few months; then to add gluten back in and see if I noticed a difference. Frankly, I didn't expect to notice any changes other than the bloating in my belly. 

Well.....I'm impatient so after one month gluten free and ZERO tummy troubles I couldn't help myself. I tried some wheat bread. Not a lot. Just a slice. I wanted to see what happened. Also, I've been on a broth fast for a few days and broth does magnificently in my belly so I knew there was nothing else that could possibly be a trigger. 

I ate the bread. I got tummy trouble. Not a lot, mind you, just a little. Not nearly as horrible as the time I ate coconut flour (oh my gosh) and flaxseed (double oh my gosh!) But I DID get a bit of a bellyache. 

Frankly, I am stunned. I really thought gluten wasn't contributing to my problems, but the way I've felt this past month along with my belly's reaction when I ate it doesn't lie. My body has a problem with gluten. Veddy intewesting...

I have also made another change recently. I got off "the pill". It was something I felt I should do long ago, but I was deceived into believing it was good for me when it was really masking my body's first cries for help. 

I have been told by doctors for the past few years that the pill will not make you keep weight on. I've been off of it for two weeks and I've lost three pounds...when I've been the exact same weight for months...might be just coincidence. I may get stuck and stay stuck here in a little while. Only time will tell. 

I went two whole weeks without running. I ran for the first time on Monday. My body literally thought it was the first time. Of course it probably didn't help that it was a little chilly and raining but ugh! My body kept screaming "why why why why?!" And now all the things are sore. All of them. Like I've never run before. That wasn't fun, but at the same time I was proud of myself for not quitting when I really wanted to. And oh I really wanted to. Sweet Caroline, has my husband corrupted me?! Am I slowly turning into a runner? Nah.....

A Change Does The Body Good

Change. Some of us shrink from it, run from it, despise it. Others try to change themselves to be something they are not. Still others try to change the people around them into what they believe is ideal.

Change. It hurts. Sometimes someone we love gently, lovingly points out the need for change in our lives. We don't want to change though because change isn't ever comfortable. So we ignore the wisdom offered to us. We run from what we know should be. Only to eventually realize we have no choice but to change. And now it's gonna REALLY hurt. Why don't we just listen the first time? Pride? Stubbornness? Fear of the unknown? A little of all three? Who knows, but here we are on the cliff we've run ourselves to. All it takes is the courage to step into the unknown.  

This week I will make a change. I will have my All In moment with God. A change I've known was better for my body and my life, but I lacked the courage to make it because it means closing a door and never looking back. The door won't be just closed. The house I'm coming from will be burned to the ground.  It's hard. It's scary. And it's gonna hurt. But I've never been more sure of anything in my life. So here I go. 

Going Gluten Free...

I completed my bone broth fast just in time for all the family festivities of Christmas to commence. And BOY were there some festivities! Our Christmases (as most others' I'm sure) tend to be rather full of traveling all over Creation to visit this family member or that one. Coming off my fast I gently branched out to other foods. Eggs (since I already knew I could eat those), rice. I had been told that gluten could possibly be a trigger for me so I did my best to stay away from it while I was traveling for the holidays.

I enjoyed the holidays without too much worrying about what was in my food, but afterward I wanted to make a bigger effort to steer clear of gluten. After several months of healing and probably a detox of some sort I'll try it here and there to see if I notice a difference. For now, though, no gluten. Interestingly enough, I have noticed my belly isn't as bloated as it usually is. We shall see.

Now, a gluten free diet is a challenge for anyone. For a Cajun? The challenge increases threefold. We use roux...in everything. What's that? Want to thicken hamburger steak gravy? Mais, make a roux, cher! Seriously, every time I turn around I'm wanting to make something with a roux. I am experimenting with making a gluten free dark roux, but I have yet to be successful. Someone recommended I try a product made here locally, but I'm just not so sure since it's a jarred oil roux and I make and prefer oil-less roux.

I have gotten creative about thickening things that are lighter though. I recently made Simple, Gluten Free, Corn and Shrimp Soup. It was a success. I liked it, my hubby liked it, and the kids would eat it if I put it over rice. In my house that equals recipe success!

I still haven't gotten a beef stew that was outstanding....nice...but not outstanding. I'll keep trying though.

I haven't lost any weight. I've not gained any, but I haven't lost any either. I run about three and a half miles two days a week. I feel good, which is a step in the right direction. The only time I've been sick in the last week was when I figured out that I can't tolerate coconut flour. Sheesh, I wish there was an easier way to learn those lessons! For now I'll be content with the reduction in digestive issues. Grudgingly content, while I quietly plot against my fat by doing more research....

Bone Broth...and Leaky Pipes

With all the research I have done about tummy troubles and food sensitivities and the inability to lose weight I have stumbled upon enough theories to make your head spin! Conventional medicine spouts all about how it's in my head or I'm not trying hard enough or some other such nonsense. I'm kind of done asking them for help. So that leaves the world of the naturopath. The ones that conventional doctors say are quacks. I even read an article from an esteemed medical institution that pretty much said, "what you're searching for doesn't really exist and it's better to take medication to mask the symptoms than to endanger your health going to unqualified practitioners looking for the source.."

I am tired of being told that IBS just happens sometimes and there's nothing I can do about it besides take medication or suffer. IBS doesn't just happen. I lived most of my life without it. Then one day it appears. I don't think my body just decided to rebel one day. I think my body has been trying to tell me something! The question, though, was, "WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!" Bodies really should speak English. Unfortunately the only language they speak is malfunction and pain...

And so....research. I came across an interesting theory that our digestive systems become compromised through a bad diet. (too much processed food, too much pesticide laden produce etc.) The lining of the intestine becomes extra permeable causing undigested food to be released into the bloodstream or other parts of the body. This causes a host of symptoms ranging from autoimmune disease to "unexplained" syndromes (IBS anybody?) and it can differ greatly from person to person.

The powers that be have named it Leaky Gut. Nice, huh? The more research I did, the more I thought that this maybe could be part of my problem. Then I thought, "ok, what would I do about it if I did, in fact, have leaky pipes?" MOAR RESEARCH! (Sorry...can you tell I'm a little tired of research?) I came across several real life accounts of people with IBS who decided to partake in a bone broth fast. They chose a certain amount of time that they would ingest nothing but broth made from the bones of healthy organically farmed animals. This is because the bones (and broth made from them) contain minerals and collagen and gelatin essential to soothing and repairing the intestinal lining. They were reporting being able to frolic in meadows without a care as to where the nearest bathroom was. I wanted that. I wanted to frolic sans toilet. Shoot. I just wanted to homeschool in the living room!

I took this information overload to a very nice natural health consultant. She listened to my whole toilet frolicking story with great interest. She agreed I was most definitely pointed in the right direction, and she armed me for the journey with a bottle of digestive enzyme pills. She also offered me an interesting theory...When asked what changed before I started having IBS symptoms I couldn't think of anything besides my diet. I thought, well my diet changed dramatically when I got married but other than that?? She pointed out that I had also started taking a birth control pill around the same time. (The pill is on the list of things that can contribute to leaky gut) Hmmmmm......

So I made up my mind. I would try a bone broth fast. One week. I chose the week before Christmas. Everyone asked me what in the world I was thinking. I was thinking, "I want to frolic". You can find the recipe I used here, should you be so inclined. It was hard. I mean, the first day I was thinking this isn't so bad, but by supper time the smell of the broth made me nauseous. I couldn't even go near it. I was sooo done. My poor husband wanted me to succeed. He knew how badly I needed this to work. He offered so many ideas. He even tried spicing the broth differently. I just gave up and had some herbal tea instead. I said I'd try again tomorrow. And I did. Except I cheated....just a little. I put an egg in it. Almost like egg drop soup. And man that stuff was good! So it went for 5 days. I would allow myself one "egg drop" a day. They're farm fresh pastured eggs so it couldn't be too bad for me, right?

I survived the week! Not only did I survive the week, but my belly felt pretty good! Let the frolicking commence! I have only had one "stomach bout" from then to now and I know exactly what caused it. Do you have any idea how empowering that is? Seriously. I think I'm going to go frolic right now! Or maybe just teach school....

My Story....Part 2

Last week I started to tell you how I got to where I am today. If you haven't read it you can find the first part here. To continue...

We got married! My dress fit, thanks to a seamstress in my dad's congregation. Lord knows she must have thought I was expecting! So we began our life together. We both worked at local grocery stores, and we would bring home the sale papers and confer, "this is cheaper there so you buy that. I'll get this though.." We worked. For me it was 60+ hours a week. We ate. I already knew how to cook when I got married. No learning here. My mother was determined that I would not have the same problem she did. She didn't know how to cook when she married Dad so they lived on boiled potatoes and eggs for a while. I made my first meal when I was 10 years old. Baked chicken, Rice-a-Roni and green beans. So as a new bride I could cook, and we ate! Not to mention we lived almost next door to at least three fast food restaurants. Our normal routine was pretty much eat, sleep, work. 

And so, we grew. This picture was about six months after we got married. I don't know what the photographer was thinking posing us all sprawled on the floor. The first three years of our marriage was a blur of junk food and work. I started having IBS symptoms a couple of years after we married. Mild stomach bouts on a somewhat regular basis. Then we decided it was time for babies. Well, I finally convinced him it was time for babies. He is much more sensible than I am. He looks at the whole picture where I just want to run after what I want. This is why God put us together. I needed someone to hold my apron strings so I wouldn't run off a cliff. I quit working to be a homemaker and concentrate on baby growing. By the time we conceived our first child I weighed 225 pounds. Keep in mind I am only 5 feet, 2 inches tall....

Here I am about 7 months into my first pregnancy. Eating as usual. It's the only type of pregnancy pictures I took. Surprise ones. I was not about to document that belly! I had perfect strangers stopping me and asking how many babies I was having. My doctor was saying my baby was going to be huge because I was "measuring big". I could not get these people to understand they were measuring fat too. Not just baby. I had incredibly normal, easy pregnancies and deliveries. With my weight that was a miracle. Another odd development during my pregnancies? My IBS went away. Completely. Both times...

In this picture, our son was almost 2 years old, and I was still 225 pounds. People try to let me off easy by saying, "oh you've had kids..." My babies did not put that weight on me. My fork did! As a matter of fact, I was back to pre-pregnancy weight by my six week check up! Unfortunately my pre-pregnancy weight was a lot. When I conceived our second child I was 12 pounds lighter than the first time because I had started changing my diet to try and control the IBS symptoms, but when I gave in to my first pregnancy craving and realized the IBS seemed to be gone again? All bets were off. My second child was delivered two weeks before Easter. The number of Cadbury Creme Eggs I put away during that time is shocking. The fact that I never developed gestational diabetes is even more shocking. 

My youngest child is nearly five years old now. Somewhere in her first year of life the doctor informed my husband he'd better do something about his weight. We determined we'd do it together, for the kids. We have to teach them how to live and be healthy. He took up running and hasn't stopped since. I am so proud of what he has accomplished, but he left me in his dust. I have clawed and scraped and crawled my way to a 60 pound weight loss. Part of it was loss of motivation when I got sick with swine flu and again when I had my gallbladder out. Part of it was rebelling against restricting myself. The rest was just plain old hard! When I first started this blog my husband was already done. He had lost his 100 pounds and run his first half marathon. 

This is us a couple of years ago. I did the "1 mile fun run" with our son. At the end I said I was proud of him AND I was proud of myself because I had kept up with him. He informed me that he didn't run as fast as he could so that I would be able to keep up. Thanks kid.....

I named this blog "Eat Your Vegetables" because when I began this journey I sincerely believed that if I just ate right and exercised I'd lose weight. Calories in, calories out. It's a black and white concept and it worked for my husband. I tried. And I tried. And I tried some more. Nothing happened. I ate 1200 calories a day (which really never left me feeling hungry). I exercised. Hard. Nothing. I mixed up my routine. I drank smoothies. Finally, defeated and frustrated, I went to my doctor for a checkup. At the very end of the appointment I blurted out my whole problem. She looked a little taken aback. She asked if I was "really" trying. I said YES, and showed her my food log on my phone. She suggested that I try low carb. Seeing as how I was addicted to sugar her theory was that I'd developed insulin resistance. I took that and ran with it. 

Low carb?! But I should be able to eat a balanced diet and lose weight! But my body is broken. I have to fix it. So low carb. I lost 12 pounds in the first 2 weeks. To me that meant the doctor must be right. Then I got sick. I had the worst IBS symptoms I have ever had in my life! 

So here I was. Some answers and even more questions. I did more research than I ever did in school. I came across some naturopathic methods of "healing" my damaged digestion. I took all my research and theories and brought them to a natural health specialist (who I will not name because I haven't asked permission). They assured me that I am, in fact, NOT crazy and I am on the right track. 

I started off with the intention of losing weight to be more healthy. This journey has never been about what I see in the mirror, but about caring for and repairing the damage I've done to the ONE body I get. I don't get to trade it in later. God gave me one. That's it. Slowly but surely my journey has morphed into something completely different. I STILL have at least 30 pounds to lose before my weight will be what is deemed the highest acceptable normal weight for my frame. I am highly impatient about getting that weight off, but I've learned that to do that is not going to be as black and white as it is for others. My body is damaged in some way, and until I figure out what it is, and work to heal it, that fat is going to stay firmly in place. Do I like it? No, but it's my reality right now. The road has forked and I've prayerfully considered which to take. I feel I've chosen wisely. Only time will tell.

My Story Part I

I have been putting off writing this post for a while now. Busy-ness prevented me, but also working out in my head just what I wanted to convey. A couple of months ago I realized that I've always been honest about my journey, but I never really explained what set me on the path to start. So here it is....or part one of it anyway.....

This...is me. No, not the pretty lady holding the baby. I'm the baby! I was born to two very outdoorsy parents. A Cajun cowgirl and a Creole Bayou boy. I was taught how to "live off the land". Dad hunted, fished and crabbed. He was also a pastor. A lot of his congregants were fisherman, farmers and trappers. They gave to the church in the form of the fruits of their labor. The norm for us was fresh vegetables seafood, duck, marsh hens, alligator, turtle and the like. We would prepare these foods that we had caught ourselves (or knew the person who did) and Dad would say, "I wonder what the poor people are eating!" If it cost money to buy, it was a special treat, not the norm. I used to get so excited over a Pop Tart! I look back and wonder why, but I was little....

Here I am in first grade. Mom never did understand why they waited until after recess to take these pictures.....And so I grew. Healthy. I can't remember ever going to the pediatrician. We didn't take vitamins. We didn't eat diet food. Although my mom always used Miracle Whip instead of mayo. Yuck. We just lived off of what our surroundings provided us. Dad even tried his hand at a garden for a few years. He and Mom grew all sorts of things. Dad and Mom always had to have a little side business going to supplement their income because being a preacher (contrary to popular belief) doesn't really pay that well. There were a couple of times where Dad sold life insurance and he was good at it, but the outdoors always called him back. He ran crab traps. He had a landscaping service. Then a tree business. All along the way, he took us with him for the ride. My parents taught us to love the outdoors too...

Here I am, being a bayou child. Rubber boots and all....I learned how to fish, though I was never allowed to bait my own hook or take the fish off the hook....that's man work.....I enjoyed it. Then our lives changed a little.... 

At about the age of 13 here in this picture, Dad's ministry took us all on the road evangelizing; doing revival meetings from church to church all over the Southern United States. Our diets changed too. We no longer had time to hunt, fish and grow things. Store bought, packaged foods became our norm and homegrown/caught foods became the exception. Trips through the drive through became rather common too with all the time we spent traveling. My brother LOVED McDonald's. I was pretty sure he'd turn into a nugget. Not so coincidentally, I also, started going through.......

"a chubby phase".....I was performing in a drama here so don't make fun of my funny pose. :) I was "chubby". Fourteen years old and already 180 pounds. I carry weight more evenly distributed than some so I was just called "chubby" and "it's a phase. She's still growing". I had pretty much reached my full height of 5 feet 2 inches by then though. And it was not a phase. My poor metabolism was like "What. Is. Happening?!" I gained weight and developed nasal allergies. I had never had allergies before, but all of a sudden pine trees and azalea bushes became my worst enemies! I also had tinnitus, but at the time I didn't know that ringing in your ears "when the room is quiet" wasn't normal. 

Then we moved back home. Dad took a church to pastor again. Our house had 14 acres. About 7 of those acres were water. I loved it there. I was always in a pirogue or on the levee doing something. At 16 I got a job and I started dating this guy. I was a pretty active chick. I slimmed right down. We were home eating fresh real foods again. Although, not like before because junk found it's way into our favorites in the time we spent on the road. When I was a kid the only time I got a Zebra cake was when we went fishing. Now we had them all the time. That is if we could get to them before my brother. A teenaged boy is like a walking garbage disposal. Anyway, I spent most of the last couple of years under my parents' roof very active. I was either walking to work (because I was terrified of driving) or out on the water by myself, or showing my boyfriend what a beautiful place the wetlands of Louisiana can be if you just stop and look. I guess I was determined to pass the love of the land on to someone like my parents had to me. Then the boy asked me to marry him. I said yes! About a month before my wedding my mom brought me to the lady doctor to get checked out and start on the pill. I started eating like I'd never seen food before. My mom says it was nerves. I say it was the pill. It was probably a combination of both, but BOY did I gain some weight in a short amount of time! I had to have my wedding dress let out at the last second because it wouldn't zip!! I didn't care. I was happy and in love and I was going to be married......

Sick....sick.....sick

I have learned that a low carb diet and IBS do not mix. I have learned this the very very hard way. For the better part of two weeks I have been sick with what I call "stomach bouts". 

So, okay, low carb and IBS make me sick, while I lose weight. I feel better on a high fiber veggie diet but I don't lose weight. According to the medical powers that be I am "severely" overweight. Even moving into obese (though I've finally lost enough weight to only be on the line of that one). 

So, what's a girl to do? Research. Yet more research. Joy. I thought I graduated school a long time ago but between choosing homeschooling curricula and trying to make my family healthier I do MORE research! 

I sure hope I find a solution soon because there is no way I can homeschool from the bathroom.....

Bad Habits.....and Stress

Last week I wrote about God's provision for my family in a tight spot. If you missed it you can read it here. This week I will illustrate for you how easily we forget....

Just a few days after our Hallelujah...we're gonna eat some venison....moment, we were hit with a couple of little financial things. One is just plain old life. The other was completely unexpected and something that we're still not sure we're going to have to pay. Getting notified of these people wanting money, however, made me mad. Oh was I EVER mad! I am not easily angered and I'm not easily stressed out, but for some reason I really let this get to me. Ranting on and on about the injustice of it all and how we'll probably have to pay what they're asking and WHERE am I going to get the money for that now?! My poor husband was the recipient of quite a few text messages that day.

In addition to my anger (looking back now the level of mad was waaaay higher than it should have been) old habits crept up and bit me in the rear. All Monday morning all I did was eat...because somewhere in my twisted brain that makes life all better....I ate an entire cup of fudge swirl ice cream AND a cupcake before I left the house to run errands. It's a good thing I left because Lord knows what else I would have found to stuff in my face! This is what happens when I'm feeling..well most any strong emotion. "I'm so sad!...Let's eat!...I'm so mad!...Let's eat!....I don't know what I'm going to do!....Except eat!" I don't know where this comes from, but I have done my best to run away from the kitchen every time I feel this way. This time...I did not succeed.

As I was in the waiting room of my kids' dentist office I was stewing over that thing that I was so mad about. God very nearly hit me over the head and said, "excuse me...have you so quickly forgotten what I am capable of? I'm big enough to give you a little food, but I'm not big enough for this little problem too?" Needless to say, I was sufficiently chastised. I prayed and repented and handed it over to the Lord. But, you know, you can't just pray about it and then continue to stew about it. That's not "trusting it to God." That's pretty much just like a child showing his mother a cut, then when she says "let me put some medicine on it" he snatches it back and says "no, it'll hurt! I just wanted you to see it and know about it but I don't trust you to make it better!" So I changed my attitude. I started thinking about things that could possibly come out of my situation that could be positive, and surprisingly enough I thought of a couple! Then I decided I'd put it away and just be. I have kids to take care of and pray they have no cavities! I have better things to do than think on that all day. Also, my husband is the one handling the situation (with far more professionalism and grace than I could have mustered!) So there. Yes, the problem is still there and must be tended to, but no, it will not dictate my mood...or my eating habits!

And so I have been running around singing "Can't Nobody....Do me like Jesuuuuuus!" Because I'm goofy.....and because it's true!

God's Provision

This week I have a cool story to share. I debated on blogging about it because I usually blog about eating and weight loss but it's my blog. So I can deviate from the norm if I want to right? Right. 

A couple of weeks ago school fundraising season was in full swing. I had all these doe-eyed little faces coming to me and asking me to buy wrapping paper or candy or to help them feed the orphans. And I said "yes" every time. (Don't worry the hubby ate the candy. He can afford all those calories.) I mean how could I not?! They're all so cute! Well, I gave no mind to the amounts I was contributing or whether it would put a hole in my budget. (Those cute little faces!) It came time for me to plot out my household budget for the next couple of weeks and THAT'S when I realized....oh. Maybe I should not have been so impulsive! 

I prayed and asked God to give me the wisdom to make it work. I crunched some numbers and figured out that if we didn't have our once a week meal out for a couple of weeks AND if I cut my grocery budget back for the next couple of weeks we'd be back in the black...barely but it would work out. Thank you Lord! 

Then week two rolled around. I had been depending (in my budgeting and meal planning) on using vegetables from my CSA box that are already paid for. But the start of my CSA season has been delayed due to their losing crops to the harsh weather. Which is a risk you take when buying into a CSA. So now I have to buy vegetables. And my meat stores in the deep freezer are running low. There's no way I'm stretching the money I have to get everything I need. We may have to live on eggs and rice for a week. Okay Lord. Show me what to do. 

Suddenly I remembered a gift card my husband was given as a gift. It's a card to an out of the way local specialty meat store! We had been procrastinating using it because it was way out of our way, but now they have a location close to the hubby's work! Thank you Lord!

But He wasn't done yet. I sent my husband to work one morning armed with the gift card and instructions to bring home whatever it could buy us. He comes home that afternoon wearing a giant grin and carrying two bags. They say "Walmart" on the side. "What's all this," I ask. "Didn't you go the meat market?" "Nope," he replies. Then he tells me how so-and-so from work said he was trying to get rid of a bunch of venison to make room for when he goes hunting. Well my husband, being the nice guy he is, mentioned how we eat venison  and we could help him with that. The guy invited him to come on over after work and he'd gladly give him some. 

So there my husband stood. With bags of God's unexpected provisions. NINE meals worth. At first I thought the provision was the wisdom to budget and shop frugally. Then I thought the provision was the long forgotten gift card. But no. Each time the blessing just got better and better until there was no doubt Who it came from. Because God's cool like that. 

Extremes

I have discovered there are two kinds of recipes. They are both "OMG!" One is "OMG! That's delicious manna from Heaven please sir may I have some more?!" And then there's "OMG! What have I done to deserve this?" Very seldom does one come across a recipe that falls in the between category of "Meh."

Low carb eating is kind of that way too I find. You either do really well and have a beautiful balance of nutrition or you drive through Wendy's, order a double stack and eat only the meat and cheese. 

I find myself flying back and forth between these extremes lately. Sometimes I look at my plate and wonder when was the last time I athe something green. Other times my plate is a beautiful rainbow of veggies that I just know is going to kill my stomach later. 

And then there are the recipes. I take turns being disenchanted with all those recipes because I can't seem to find a good one and wanting to try something new because I'm so tired of cooking the same thing over and over again. 

This past week was interesting. I had one of those times when I was tired of the same old thing. Although I could eat eggs three meals a day every day, I really wanted a hot dog for lunch the other day. My usual hot dog is an all beef frank cut up and mixed with some canned chili. Sans bun. I know. Thrilling. But I didn't have any of my fancy zero filler, zero carb hot dogs. Just "kid" hot dogs. You know the ones I'm talking about. When you boil them they turn the water red. Yeah. Those. Well THOSE have 4 grams of carbs PER hot dog. 4! That's a lot for one hot dog. Not counting the chili. I refused to waste my carbs on inferior dogs. 

So this happened. I call it "huevos gringos". It was fantastic. Surprisingly fantastic. It also was about the furthest you can travel from a vegetable. I mean really. Eggs, chili and cheese. Not exactly the balanced food pyramid. I can't wait for my CSA to start. Maybe I'll regain some of my sanity and eat some veggies. 

This week I have had three small victories. The first? I exercised five times in seven days. Even when I didn't want to. I'm tired people. I hate mornings....

The second? I haven't had any sugar substitutes this week. My belly thanks me. My husband thanks me. It's a good thing....

The third? I made an ahmazing recipe. I didn't find it on some website or in a book. I DID it myself. And it is soooo good. I shall put it on the recipe tab. You shall thank me. That is if you ever gather all the fancy ingredients to make it. Maybe I'm feeling it was more fabulous than it was because I've had so many epic fails, but I ate it and it was soooo good! "Whaaaat?!" You're thinking, "what was it for the love of fish!" ...... Almond flour pancakes. Oh. Man. They were good. I sweetened it with just a touch of honey so that they could stand alone since I didn't want to use syrup. Then, I spiced them with cinnamon. Pure yum. I saved the leftovers for snacks. As a matter of fact, scuse me. All this talk has made me want one.....

All Nighters and Unusual Behaviors

Yesterday was kind of a busy day. I had a great visit with my mom, we finished school work (I have a Kindergartener AND a 3rd grader now!) I made pizza (low carb crust for me of course) and even cleaned house! Ok only a little, but still! 

All that was finished. The dishes were done. I could think of 5,000 other things I could also do. What do I choose? I paint my nails. Anyone inside my closest circles knows it's been several years since I bothered to paint my nails. Toenails, yes. Fingernails? I just don't bother. It doesn't stay on long enough to warrant all that work! Am I gaining such self confidence that I care what my claws look like? Probably not. But it's nice to pamper myself once in a while. I wonder how many hours the polish will stay on THIS time....

I've been doing lots of things lately that are....unusual. At least unusual for me! 

1) I eat grapefruit

2) I enjoy eating the grapefruit

3) I put lime in my water...I have never liked lime

4) I miraculously now enjoy lime!

5) I have worked out a total of three days this week. And we're only on day number three!

6) I have not had solid chocolate in a while. 

7) I have shaved my legs at least twice in one lunar cycle. 

Who am I?! 

Last weekend I was a chaperone at our church's annual girls' sleepover. So, we're talking kids. Not just kids. Girls. Almost 30 giggly girls. They needed fuel to make it through the night. Lots of sugary fuel. I knew I wasn't going to stay low carb that night, but I didn't realize just how many carbs a person can consume in the course of a night....or how cruddy you can feel afterwards when you're not used to eating that way!

Let's start with dinner Friday night. I had a corn dog. Ok I had TWO corn dogs. And that was the last protein I had for at least 12 hours. A wiener....wrapped in carbs. There were chips and cookies and cake and brownies and honey buns and......then breakfast of cereal and cinnamon rolls and biscuits and fruit and powdered doughnuts and....

By the time I left the church my body was begging me for an egg! I had that sugar crash feeling. Meanwhile the kids are all bright and bushy tailed asking for more! 

Not very much of me has changed though. Sure I painted my nails but I really miss solid milk chocolate. I still despise running, yet I have managed to partake in this loathsome activity no less than THREE times this week!! Me wants a Hershey Bar. Me must persevere....

Low Carb Food....The Good, The Bad and The OMG

So, last time I told you about my induction phase. The withdrawals; the almost fainting. Today, I shall tell you about the food. Oh, the food!! For someone that likes to eat like I do, these recipes were fun to make and mostly terrible to eat. 

For one, I hope I never see another bell pepper again. Bell pepper cups. Bell pepper rings. Bell pepper sticks! I have never particularly cared for bell peppers. After the first two weeks I was so done with bell peppers!! 

Also on the never again list (or at least the not for a long long while list), chef salad. I have made and had some very yummy salads but I hope I don't see another for a long time!

The first two weeks I tried all sorts of recipes. Some were good, but expensive to make, namely, the chili made with 5 pounds of beef stew meat. Yes. You read that right. 5 pounds. I don't think I'll have to worry about iron deficiency for about 10 years. 

I have learned through this process that I do NOT care for goat cheese. In anything. Ever. I made a smoothie. I had a feeling it was going to be terrible when I read the recipe, but it had mostly IBS friendly foods in it and I was trying to be open minded. When you read the name of this smoothie you will most likely say, "what was she thinking?!" Ready? Avocado Gazpacho Smoothie. Yeah. It was bad. It consisted of avocado, goat cheese, chives and almond milk. Oh man!! I even tried to keep drinking thinking it was an "acquired taste". Halfway through the taste had yet to be acquired so I gave up. Ugh. 

I also despise the taste of protein powder. Didn't know that until this venture into low carbedness. And if I'm honest with myself, I'd much rather get my nutrients from actual food. I had to stop taking the vitamins I bought because they made me sick. Through it all though, I learned how NOT to eat low carb. 

I also learned that I could eat eggs multiple times a day for the foreseeable future and never tire of them. I have had scrambled eggs and fresh strawberries for breakfast every day for at least a month. I love eggs. I tried to take the easy way out with shakes and meal bars. While I was still losing weight, I quickly learned that the artificial sweeteners don't agree with me. Well I have always said that stuff wasn't good for me anyway. I use them every now and then when I want something sweet though. 

Someone loaned me a copy of their enormous low carb cookbook and I found some great recipes in it, along with getting a grasp on some low carb baking. I figured out that my belly loves chia seeds and that I can use chia seeds to bake! Hmmmm. So I found a recipe that uses almond meal and flax seed to make bread. Flaxseed and I do not agree. That was a hard lesson....substitute the flax for chia and tada! Bread, pizza crust! I have made low carb pizza that is to die for people. And not a cauliflower in sight! What is people's fascination with cauliflower anyway?

I haven't had a stomach flare up since the first two weeks. I'm losing weight slowly but surely (about a pound a week). I should probably look into growing chia...

        Here's a pic of my low carb pizza. 

Y'all just can't imagine how good this thing was!

Carb Counting...The Highs an the Lows

I have been "low carb" for about 2 and a half months now. I jumped into this with both feet and mind open. I said, "I'll try ALL the foods!" 

First thing's first, what the doctor did NOT tell me. She said "it's easier said than done." She did NOT say, "you are most likely addicted to sugar and you will go through withdrawals and feel like you might die." She probably refrained from saying this for fear I would have not even tried it. She would have been right. During the first two weeks, the "induction phase", I was pretty sure I was either dying or pregnant. I was weak, nauseous, starving and cranky. I'm sure my family was ecstatic. A ray of sunshine I was not. I did not realize that: 1) I was actually addicted to sugar....I mean we say it jokingly but I REALLY was! 2) I would feel this bad! I almost gave up! After about a week and a half I started reading online about symptoms of sugar withdrawal. I had lots of them. Apparently I could have slowly weaned myself off over a period of weeks. Now I find this?! I'm already a week and a half in! I'll stick it out thank you very much! 

Right at the two week mark I decided I'd try exercising...gently. I workout with a group of awesome ladies who constantly push themselves. I explained that I was going to be slow so just leave me behind. I got so tired and winded from the get go! But I was there. Burning fat....slowly. At the very end someone who had already finished her workout came back and got me and encouraged me and I pushed and I did it! I felt great! I went home, made my breakfast talking to my husband all stoked about my accomplishment. I kissed him goodbye and out the door he went. I was bringing my breakfast to the table when the world went dark. I decided I'd better sit down before I fell down. So there I was, plate of breakfast in hand, on the floor. The dog was unsure if he should come steal my food or give me my space. I had pushed a little too hard. Note taken!

Within that first two weeks my husband and I celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary. Coincidentally that same weekend was when my digestive system decided it did not like my new diet. My IBS flared and I stayed sick that whole weekend. Romantic right? What's worse is that I know only one thing that can steady my belly when it's like this. Grains. Easily digestible CARBS! I had to go off my eating plan and get myself better, then regroup and come back at it with a belly friendly plan. But would I really try again? After stepping on the scale at the end of the two weeks I determined I would.

At the end of the first two weeks I had lost 12 pounds! I took this to mean my doctor was correct in her assumption about my body's insulin resistance. I also figured I must be on the right track. Now to figure out what I can and can't eat. With carbs and IBS working against me I was afraid my list of foods to eat would be rather small. 

Next time I'll write about the food I have eaten...the good, the bad, and the OMG what was I thinking?! 

A Visit To The Doctor

It was that time again. Every year around my birthday I go and visit the doctor like a good girl. I get my check up and my blood work done. I nod and smile while she gives me helpful suggestions about improving my health. I don't usually follow this advice because, while I am and have been VERY overweight for some time, I'd always say to myself that my blood work is normal so it's fine.

Last year we did our dance at the doctor. She asked if I was doing anything for exercise. I told her I wasn't really. She said I should and I agreed. My blood work came back fine. Last year though, I wondered how many more years my blood work would come back normal before the effects of years of abuse caught up with my insides like it was with my outsides. Last year I got real.

This year I went back to the doctor 20 pounds lighter. All 20 of those pounds were lost in the first 6 months of trying. Then, it STOPPED. No matter how hard I tried (and boy did I try) the weight will not budge! I have lost 2 pounds in the past 6-7 months. Two. Whole. Pounds. I told my doctor this. When she had asked enough questions and was satisfied that I was, in fact, trying (I mean it's not like I had a past record of trying...) She uttered the exact two words I did not want to hear, "low carb."

You know that part of a movie where the hero sees someone falling to their death and there's nothing they can do so they just reach out toward the person and yell "NOOOOOOOO" in slow motion? Yeah. That was me. Reaching toward cake...and cookies.....and chocolate....

The doctor said something that had to do with insulin resistance and the single largest cause of weight gain and retention being high carb diets. I didn't catch it all because my poor little brain still had the words "LOW CARB" echoing through it. I nodded and smiled and thanked her for her advice on the way out of the door.

So what now? Was I going to give up because the possible solution was within my grasp but seemed too hard? Or was I going to fight? For my health, my family? Be a role model for my kids? I chose to fight.

I read. Article after article about "low carb lifestyles". At first I was a little miffed that I was even considering going against what I had always believed to be bad: restricting a food group. The more I read though I realized my perception of "low carb" and what it actually is are two different things. Low carb is not throwing out every carbohydrate and never eating it again ever.....solely existing on steak and eggs. (I have an uncle who does this. He smells perpetually of egg salad.) It's not called "no carb". It's LOW carb. That's when I thought, "hey, I can maybe do this and not die."

I chose a discipline to follow because I can't imagine taking all the information I read and compressing it and turning it into a diet. Once I chose one of the more popular plans I put it's free tools to use. There was a database of hundreds of recipes to choose from. I was pretty sure that if I didn't plan every meal and have it readily available, I would never be able to stay on track...at least for the first couple of weeks. So I made a menu and I went shopping...

Ignore the yogurt. It's for the kids.

That's what a week's worth of low carb meals looks like. Oh. Except for the apples. I'm not allowed to have those yet. Those are for the hubby. And I got the low carb candy bars just in case I have a weak moment. It's that time of the month and I usually consume copious amounts of chocolate. I was afraid to have no options and fall off the wagon! I will admit, I'm really moving out of my comfort zone with some of these recipes. I bought goat cheese people....

I totally blew my grocery budget this week because of all these fancy things I don't usually buy because I'm a sale shopper. I've got to figure out how to do this on the cheap. Because you guys know me. If I'm one thing....it's cheap! So, grocery budget gone and from what I'm reading I really need to be taking supplements while on this type of diet. Fabulous. Enter the birthday money. I was saving it for skinny clothes, but if I never lose weight....

So this happened.

Bye bye birthday money. I have to give huge props to the dude at GNC. He was super helpful, concerned about my health but also my pocket book and was not condescending at all to the chubby girl with two kids in tow. He even offered my kids samples. I mean I know it's his job and all but he was exceptionally good at it. The whey protein is actually for recipes that I have planned this week. Then I bought super ultra vitamins and a chia chew. The chew is supposed to supplement Omega-3 fatty acids as well as provide a little soluble fiber for my IBS tummy. I took my supplements with breakfast this morning like a good girl. Some of those pills are huge! I saved the chewable for last and it kinda felt like I was getting a treat. This made me happy. If I swallow all the giant vitamins like a good girl I get a Starburst....with crunchy chia seeds in it....

I had set for myself a deadline. Monday would be the day the "low carb lifestyle" would begin. So yesterday was kind of an all bets are off day. We went out to lunch after church with friends. I had a grilled chicken sandwich on a ciabatta bun AND a ton of fries.....

And then this happened...

What?! I HAD to get it out of the house so I wouldn't eat it this week! It was sooooo good. I have been told that after a certain amount of time living a low carb lifestyle (trying not to use the four letter word...diet!) I will find myself able to say I don't even want these types of things. I have my doubts. Chocolate is....well it's chocolate! And sugar is....yummy! We shall see. 

Saturday my totally awesome and supportive husband helped me prep all the stuff for the meals and bag it up so that all I have to do is pull it out and cook. This will be especially helpful for breakfast and lunch since I'm accustomed to pulling out something quick and easy for these meals. He kind of likes the idea of pre-prepping things anyway. He says it will make my life easier. I think I agree! It seemed to work very well this morning. I pulled out my bag labeled "Monday AM", threw the recipe together and ten minutes later I was sitting munching on turkey breakfast sausage, and sautéd bell peppers all smothered with cheese! I like cheese. That is definitely something I'll eat again. Probably next Monday. 

One thing I thought about, and I'm not sure how I feel. Meatless Monday will be kind of suspended until further notice. I need meat. Beans are too starchy right now so they're out. Meat and eggs are going to be my protein. Meat is a lot harder for my body to digest. I'm trying to balance it out with lots of soluble fiber filled veggies. I hope I can do it. If my digestion slows down I'm going to have to rethink my menus. I've  got to make it work though. Because nothing else has. I've got 45 extra pounds dragging me down. They've GOT to go! 

Do you have experience with a "low carb lifestyle?" I'd love to hear your encouraging words about your successes....or even warnings about your failures! What did you do to stay on target? What caused you to fall off the wagon? Let me know in the comments!

Sugar....and being 29.

So today is my birthday. I'm 29. My body is in better shape now than it was ten years ago. But WHY. CAN'T. I. LOSE. WEIGHT?! Ahhhhhh!

Okay. I'm done yelling. But seriously. I have lost two pounds in the last 4 months, and I have fought hard for those two pounds. I'm thinking it may be my addiction to refined sugars. I stay within a certain calorie goal that will (supposedly) enable me to lose two pounds a week. The scale stays the same. Even with working out HARD three times a week. 

At first I chalked it up to losing fat but building muscle at the same time. Now I'm not so sure. I've read recently that simple carbs (read: sugar!) can trigger an insulin spike in our bodies which, in turn, causes a starvation response. The body is like "Omg! When is she gonna eat again? I'd better save all this fat just in case! Hmm. Where to put it? Oh look her butt could use more padding!" 

Now I'm not going crazy and saying all carbs are bad. There are carbs everywhere (including fruits and veggies) and our bodies need those complex carbs to be balanced. But doughnut carbs are not the same as strawberries and Greek yogurt carbs. Doughnuts, while they may have the same calories do not have the same nutritional value. And that's a shame. Because man they're good! But one thing I'm learning is that eating is not just about feeling good or tasting good. It's about fueling the body. Now to convince my sugar addicted self of this concept. 

So the "no refined sugar" experiment will begin....right after I have birthday cake......