Sometimes when life is encroaching on a potentially devastating precipice you really take into account the excess you take for granted. This morning while taking my shower I thought, do I really need the lights on? If I kept the lights off we'll save a little money. I used my Aveeno face wash, which really is expensive when you think about it: $14.00 for soap. Seems excessive.
I've written about this before. Poverty in America is wealthy compared to much of the world. The fact we own a queen sized bed, a twin bed, a crib and a bassinet is million-dollar-luxury. Of course, the queen and twin have belonged to my husband and I since our respective childhoods.
Today my husband and I had our traditional birthday/anniversary/Valentine's celebration. Once a year we have an extravagant lunch at a Brazilian steak house (it's reasonably priced at lunch). And though we are on said precipice, and though I truly hesitated, we decided that you do, truly, only live once. We're also celebrating 5 years. My husband reminded me: 2 years until our bodies suffer a full year of itching. Anyway, at a Brazilian steak house there is typically this incredible salad bar with smoked salmon, cheeses, prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, tomatoes, everything heavenly pretty much. Then, men walk around with sizzling cuts of red-meat on large skewers. They shave off glistening pieces of juicy sirloin, ribeye and filet mignon which you greedily grab with tongs and place onto your plate already teeming with carnivorous goodness. Excess. Glorious excess. We committed the sin of gluttony and ate until our heads were spinning.
We work really hard to be moderate in our spending. In fact, my husband and I have no credit card debt and only a few bills: two cars, insurances, my student loans, our house, and presently medical bills from my pregnancy. We like to a buy a couple big items (couch, dining room set, fridge, TV, etc.) as we need them and pay them off before we buy more. It's great for our credit and keeps us accountable to not purchase in excess. This is the one area I'm proud to say I've always been really disciplined. And it feels so good to pay something off. I imagine it's what I will feel when I successfully lose the weight I hope to. Too bad it's not as easy as simply paying a bill in chunks. And I can do that once a month rather than the tediousness of the gym 3-4 times a week.
All of this to say, sometimes I think God brings me to this precipice over and over and over so that I don't become satisfied in what I feel I need. I think he brings me here time and time again so that I remember what it is like to purge the excess. To remember that simple things like water, electricity, and food shouldn't be taken for granted. To remember that I don't need the newest thing or the more advanced thing or the most efficient thing. What I have is enough: a beautiful kiddo, an incredible husband, a home, and friends and family.
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On a final note, unrelated to excess, I will excessively dote on my husband. He has been working so hard to help around the house as we hunker down into parenthood. He cleans dishes. Does laundry. Carries heavy things for me. Pauses his video games to give kiddo a pacifier. Sits with me and watches my dumb shows. Hugs me when I cry. Makes me laugh. Changes countless poopy diapers. Coos and ooo's and ahh's at baby's adorableness. Saves me from spiders. Dances with me without music. Pinches my butt every time he walks passed me. Puts up with me. I am so glad we've had these past 5 years. They haven't always been easy - God knows we'll debate with a stick even if we completely agree with it - but they've been beautiful blessings. I infinitely love him. I am thankful for his honesty, integrity and strength. There are simply not enough men in the world like him and I hope our kiddo grows into his likeness.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
31 points | 4 eternally saved for wine
Yesterday I officially started my journey again toward weight loss. Started Weight Watchers, again. I'll be eternally saving 4 points every day for wine. Got myself to the gym. Wasn't my best run, but it was decent... for not having been to the gym in 10 months.
Toward the end, though, my sides started hurting in a unique fashion. It wasn't runner's cramp. I personally think it had to do with the fact I had major surgery 7 weeks ago for the extraction of a small child. I, therefore, pulled back quite a bit and instead of going on to the cross-trainer I stopped. I utilized the elliptical for 35 minutes. Burned around 280 calories. Ran almost 3 miles.
The Planet Fitness employee gave me two coins for the massage chair, so I feel this was all a win win.
Tonight I'll be going to the grocery store to stock up on healthy stuff.
And, as promised, I'll get to my baby blog post soon. But, alas, baby beckons and I must attend.
Toward the end, though, my sides started hurting in a unique fashion. It wasn't runner's cramp. I personally think it had to do with the fact I had major surgery 7 weeks ago for the extraction of a small child. I, therefore, pulled back quite a bit and instead of going on to the cross-trainer I stopped. I utilized the elliptical for 35 minutes. Burned around 280 calories. Ran almost 3 miles.
The Planet Fitness employee gave me two coins for the massage chair, so I feel this was all a win win.
Tonight I'll be going to the grocery store to stock up on healthy stuff.
And, as promised, I'll get to my baby blog post soon. But, alas, baby beckons and I must attend.
Thursday, January 21, 2016
I've been "OKed"
6 weeks! I made it! I can go back to the gym.
Cesarean incision is doing well.
2lbs down.
I have fantasized about going to the gym for 3 - 4 months now.
At the beginning of my pregnancy I had visions of lifting light weights every day to build up my arm strength for my impending chunk of baby. That never happened. Not even once. In fact, my weights still have the packaging on them. I also envisioned myself plugging along at the gym, lightly running and shedding unwanted fat. I opted for loaves of French bread instead.
In the middle of my pregnancy the ladies at work began a walking campaign. I made it my goal to walk one lap within the halls of my office building every time I went to the restroom. I'm proud to say, I did actually do this for two weeks. I felt great. I stopped for some reason or another, I think mainly because we became busier.
At the end of my pregnancy everything took so much energy. Climbing our stairs in our house became such a breathless burden I would plot my need to use them. Do I really need that sweatshirt hanging on my bed post upstairs because I'm freezing or could I just put on my husband's company windbreaker instead? All the blankets are upstairs? This windbreaker serves as a great throw. Everything to make tea is downstairs. I have tap water. If I use warm tap water, that's basically like tea. You get the point.
I love my gym. I have a membership at Planet Fitness. It's a "non-judgment" zone, unless you're a "lunk" and then we all get to judge you and they will even ring an alarm because of your "lunkiness". A "lunk", according to Planet Fitness, is essentially one who wears super low-cut muscle shirts, brings a gallon of water to drink and grunts while mic-dropping weights. Or something. According to the dictionary, though, a lunk is short for lunkhead which means "a slow-witted person".
A perk in my non-judgmental judgmental gym: not a single employee knows me. I love that. Seriously. They don't talk to me. I can simply get in and get out with my angry music blaring in my ears the entire time. Another perk is that at the end of my work out a massage chair awaits me. As one of my former posts shares, I used to get through my workout with the motivation of food. "Man, I killed it at the gym today! Time to go home and eat my weight in burritos." "I ran an extra mile; that means I can drink half a bottle of Chianti." Now my motivation is that two minutes of knot-crunching mechanical Swedish massage goodness. Amen and amen.
As much as I love my adorable newborn who spends most of his day sleeping, eating, grunting and pooping, I love the little bits of me-time that I can sneak in. This is another reason I'm looking forward to the gym. Precious me-time that allows me to breathe easier and become healthier to run after my little one when he's old enough.
Repentance is about making a 180 degree turn. I once was going in one direction and I turned around dramatically and began going the exact opposite direction. These few things that give me joy regarding going to gym are healthy signs that I'm on the appropriate road heading in the correct direction.
Cheers!
Cesarean incision is doing well.
2lbs down.
I have fantasized about going to the gym for 3 - 4 months now.
At the beginning of my pregnancy I had visions of lifting light weights every day to build up my arm strength for my impending chunk of baby. That never happened. Not even once. In fact, my weights still have the packaging on them. I also envisioned myself plugging along at the gym, lightly running and shedding unwanted fat. I opted for loaves of French bread instead.
In the middle of my pregnancy the ladies at work began a walking campaign. I made it my goal to walk one lap within the halls of my office building every time I went to the restroom. I'm proud to say, I did actually do this for two weeks. I felt great. I stopped for some reason or another, I think mainly because we became busier.
At the end of my pregnancy everything took so much energy. Climbing our stairs in our house became such a breathless burden I would plot my need to use them. Do I really need that sweatshirt hanging on my bed post upstairs because I'm freezing or could I just put on my husband's company windbreaker instead? All the blankets are upstairs? This windbreaker serves as a great throw. Everything to make tea is downstairs. I have tap water. If I use warm tap water, that's basically like tea. You get the point.
I love my gym. I have a membership at Planet Fitness. It's a "non-judgment" zone, unless you're a "lunk" and then we all get to judge you and they will even ring an alarm because of your "lunkiness". A "lunk", according to Planet Fitness, is essentially one who wears super low-cut muscle shirts, brings a gallon of water to drink and grunts while mic-dropping weights. Or something. According to the dictionary, though, a lunk is short for lunkhead which means "a slow-witted person".
A perk in my non-judgmental judgmental gym: not a single employee knows me. I love that. Seriously. They don't talk to me. I can simply get in and get out with my angry music blaring in my ears the entire time. Another perk is that at the end of my work out a massage chair awaits me. As one of my former posts shares, I used to get through my workout with the motivation of food. "Man, I killed it at the gym today! Time to go home and eat my weight in burritos." "I ran an extra mile; that means I can drink half a bottle of Chianti." Now my motivation is that two minutes of knot-crunching mechanical Swedish massage goodness. Amen and amen.
As much as I love my adorable newborn who spends most of his day sleeping, eating, grunting and pooping, I love the little bits of me-time that I can sneak in. This is another reason I'm looking forward to the gym. Precious me-time that allows me to breathe easier and become healthier to run after my little one when he's old enough.
Repentance is about making a 180 degree turn. I once was going in one direction and I turned around dramatically and began going the exact opposite direction. These few things that give me joy regarding going to gym are healthy signs that I'm on the appropriate road heading in the correct direction.
Cheers!
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Babies
Well, howdy y'all!
So, I had a baby. Four, or so, years before the baby, at the time this blog was created, I had dropped to approximately 175lbs through the help of Weight Watchers. It was awesome. Around that time, though, I began a high stress, long hours job called youth ministry. I'd felt called to youth ministry as a junior in high school and never looked back. Much of this blog chronicles my struggles with ministry in a very raw and authentic way - because I'm very raw and authentic. I qualify that because if you read this blog, I'll probably offend you. I like to offend people. I feel it helps them, us, think.
I had taken a break from head-on ministry and it was during that time I dropped all the weight. After two years back in ministry I'd gained 25lbs and right before getting pregnant (10 or so months ago) I'd reached 201lbs. The highest weight I'd ever been. During the first two trimesters I only gained 30lbs. I was so stoked. My goal was to gain no more than 40lbs. However, my body disagreed with that goal. On the day I gave birth, I weighed 254lbs. I ended up having preclampsia and with this condition it is common that women will gain a lot of water weight very quickly, which was the case with me. I think the doctors freaked out when I gained almost 11lbs in a matter of days.
Nevertheless, we now have a beautiful baby boy born December 8th, 2015 at 1:46am weighing in at 8lbs 7.1oz. Today, January 7th, 2016, I'm at 215.2lbs. I'm super pleased.
Over the next few weeks I'll be updating my blog on baby stuff. What happened in the hospital, how weight is a huge part of the judgments associated with pregnancy, and then several baby-related things that will be off topic from the main purpose of this blog: chronicling my attempt to repent of being fat. However, having been a youth pastor for much of my adult life, I have a knack for tying any lesson or thought to a greater idea: for the purpose of this blog, everything in life we can be gluttonous, selfish, sonsabitches.
I'm very excited to get back to the gym. As soon as I get the go ahead, I'll be there busting my fat ass again.
Oh, and, I'm no longer in ministry. As much as I can help it, I plan to never be in ministry again because I'm not a politician. I swear like a sailor in most company outside of a professional setting; my most favorite phrase being "mother-fucker". I'm debating whether or not I'm agnostic.
Merry reading!
So, I had a baby. Four, or so, years before the baby, at the time this blog was created, I had dropped to approximately 175lbs through the help of Weight Watchers. It was awesome. Around that time, though, I began a high stress, long hours job called youth ministry. I'd felt called to youth ministry as a junior in high school and never looked back. Much of this blog chronicles my struggles with ministry in a very raw and authentic way - because I'm very raw and authentic. I qualify that because if you read this blog, I'll probably offend you. I like to offend people. I feel it helps them, us, think.
I had taken a break from head-on ministry and it was during that time I dropped all the weight. After two years back in ministry I'd gained 25lbs and right before getting pregnant (10 or so months ago) I'd reached 201lbs. The highest weight I'd ever been. During the first two trimesters I only gained 30lbs. I was so stoked. My goal was to gain no more than 40lbs. However, my body disagreed with that goal. On the day I gave birth, I weighed 254lbs. I ended up having preclampsia and with this condition it is common that women will gain a lot of water weight very quickly, which was the case with me. I think the doctors freaked out when I gained almost 11lbs in a matter of days.
Nevertheless, we now have a beautiful baby boy born December 8th, 2015 at 1:46am weighing in at 8lbs 7.1oz. Today, January 7th, 2016, I'm at 215.2lbs. I'm super pleased.
Over the next few weeks I'll be updating my blog on baby stuff. What happened in the hospital, how weight is a huge part of the judgments associated with pregnancy, and then several baby-related things that will be off topic from the main purpose of this blog: chronicling my attempt to repent of being fat. However, having been a youth pastor for much of my adult life, I have a knack for tying any lesson or thought to a greater idea: for the purpose of this blog, everything in life we can be gluttonous, selfish, sonsabitches.
I'm very excited to get back to the gym. As soon as I get the go ahead, I'll be there busting my fat ass again.
Oh, and, I'm no longer in ministry. As much as I can help it, I plan to never be in ministry again because I'm not a politician. I swear like a sailor in most company outside of a professional setting; my most favorite phrase being "mother-fucker". I'm debating whether or not I'm agnostic.
Merry reading!
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