That was then, this is now.

I was going to do a great post about what I used to look like, when I was a smokin' hot 17 year old. (graduation pictures) However, the scanner died in the over a year since we last used it, and so no old pictures. Maybe if I can figure out another scanner source.

So instead, I'm going to dump part of the contents of my brain out for the whole world to see. Because you know me in a sports bra wasn't enough.

I haven't really gotten in to being in shape, really bought into it, since I was 17. Back when I was 16, I was away at the Art High School, boarding away from home. I was miserable, hanging with a bad crowd, the subject of the "worst teasing" my teachers had ever seen, and anorexic. I starting breaking into online games (text based MUDs and MUSHs, 100 bonus points if you know what I'm talking about) through the library card catalog system. There, I met I guy. A six years older than me Canadian guy. It was awesome. He liked me for me, he thought I was beautiful (oh god, as I write this out, I realize in today's terms how nuts this all was).

I met him in person (committed a felony, he did), we dated long distance. He inspired me to be hot like he was. (he was a "specimen") I started working out, taking Tae Kwon Do (the only martial art in my small town), and lifting weights regularly. I was HOT. I had started taking antidepressants that year, and I felt great.

Then came Christmas. I went to visit. I got dumped. I got dumped TWICE, while stuck in a foreign country! I was broken. It was my first love, and it is a broken heart that left scars. I don't know if they will ever go away. Just thinking about it makes my stomach tie up in knots, remembering how I felt.

I put all of that anger into working out even more (and hitting on the guys I worked out with). I got even hotter. And then... I moved on. Sort of. I went to college. (freshman 40 anyone?) I dated other guys. I quit exercising.

I made a slight effort when I lived in NYC, because it was what you did. However, I never put my heart into it like I did when I was 17. I kept waiting for the right inspiration, the kind he gave me to get in shape and be a gym rat. I kept looking for something outside of me to push me, and it never happened.

I'm 31 years old, and it isn't going to happen. It has GOT to come from me, and no one else. My diet, my lifestyle, the kind of example that I set for my daughter, has got to come from me. So, with all of this shredding, I'm taking ownership again. Sean doesn't own that part of me, I let him have control for almost 15 years, and it isn't his any more.

Oh, this is the oldest thing I could find electronically. From when I last saw Aaron and met Christina in person. That is her dress (and corset) I am wearing. She made that, and she rocks! I was roughly 50-60 pounds lighter then.

Holy back fat baby, what was I thinking.

When I said I would post pictures, I obviously did not think about the fact that there really are no mirrors in our house, and apparently the ones at work are seriously thinning. Oh, or maybe clothing is good for me.

However, I said I would do it. Maybe I can inspire someone else to do this. Because it isn't pretty, at all. Sorry for the guys I know outside of blog who have to look at this. Avert your eyes.






Lest you think I'm kidding about the damn bathroom at work, this was last week I think.




The only thing that is encouraging to me at all is that I've already lost 15 pounds, and a friend who hasn't seen me in like 6 months said I look great. Basically, they could have been worse pictures.

Oh, and yes, bra is at least a size too small. Finding serious sports bras as a big girl ain't easy. Mail order only for them to be the wrong size sucks. This was purchased as I was getting pregnant (only slightly kidding) at the Title 9 store in Boulder two and a half years ago. General fitness clothes for plus sizes has gotten much better recently, underwear still has a way to go. Pretty sure that this was the biggest I could get. At least compression is good for the jumping jacks.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Part One:

About a week ago I braved the pain and waxed my chin. Not well, but enough so that I could tell the progress of the medication I am taking. It was time, and I squeezed it in before M and I left the house. A week later, the hair that had grown back was less, and less dark and wiry. (Normally it is more guy like than I care to think about) It would seem that the medication is either slowing down or thinning the hair growth. Maybe even both. I needed to leave work early yesterday to cut down on my hours for the week, so I made a last minute appointment to get my whole face waxed. I figured that even if it cuts down on the growth a little it would be worth it.


It hurt, oh did it hurt. I remember why I don't do this. Then there is the price tag, also not something I could afford to do regularly. But it looks good. I'm already breaking out a little, but I'm hopeful that there is a noticeable change to make it all worth it. I'm planning on maybe doing a flickr set or something to show the progress as it regrows. Maybe help someone else in my same situation, and to remind myself why I am doing it.

The woman who did it was very nice, talking to me to distract me from the pain. She asked good questions, was surprised by how fast it could grow back, and was very sweet overall. She asked what A thought of it. I answered with what I thought was right, and confirmed with him last night. He doesn't really notice or think about it. He only worries about what it does for my self esteem. He's the best. Many guys I know wouldn't react that way.

Part Two:

I had a little time to kill before my appointment to get tortured, so I went down to Target. The new jeans I got had almost immediately gotten a little big. Maybe I should have tried on a smaller size when I got them, but either way, I could now remove them without unbuttoning them. I tried on the smaller size, and they fit great. So great I got two pairs. The best feeling about having lost weight this time is that I've done it through small changes and it hasn't felt like work.

That doesn't mean that work isn't coming. I got test results back from the endocrinologist. (follow up to check potassium levels and a few other things) If I am reading things right, I'm becoming insulin resistant. Nothing serious enough to get me in earlier than my six month follow up. (her note said we could talk about it then) However, I know what it means. It means I need to spend the next six months continuing to make progress. I know for me doing it slowly means I will stick with it, but now that I've cut down on fried things, sugar needs to be next.

Putting the contents of my fridge where my mouth is.

So Julie's posts and my own reaction to it made me take a good hard look at what we're feeding M (and ourselves). This weekend I started to go through my fridge and remove things that had HFCS, transfats, or higher cholesterol (recently updated physicals resulted in that being a slight concern for someone in the house).

I admit that while I may have written about making my own meatballs, I haven't been very good about sticking to my guns on the whole food thing lately. We are eating out less, but some of that eating out has been replaced by convenience foods. Especially since I'm not home for dinner much these days because of work.

The first thing I found that had to go was barbecue sauce. The first ingredient in nearly every brand (including local brand Famous Dave's) is HFCS. That part sort of shocked me. Since M is your average toddler, we've used "sauce" to help encourage her to eat her meat more than once (less of an issue with veggies). "Sauce" includes dressing, mustard, the sauce from some other food, and barbecue sauce. Yeah, not any more. I couldn't find anything acceptable at the store. So I went looking a ketchup. A tangy tomato option as well. You'll be happy to know that this Regan "vegetable" is full of the stuff too. The exception being Heinz organic and a couple of other organic/natural brands. I got the organic stuff for now.

Also on the list (and now in the garbage), light salad dressing. I bought it for a recipe and haven't used it since, so I have no problem tossing it. Not so easy to get rid of, the yogurt that A takes to work every day. I'm leaving that one up to him to deal with, since just getting him to find an option for breakfast was hard enough. M doesn't get near the stuff, she gets the low sugar kids stuff when she does have yogurt. However, I know that a number of other "kids" yogurts are well known for their content of lots of bad things, including HFCS.

So, that is my start. I should have done this ages ago. It will help with my quest to lose weight and hopefully about Type 2 diabetes. Now I just need to start on M's school....

HFCS and the Angry Blogger

After reading parts 1-4 of Julie's posts about obesity and HFCS (High Fructose Corn Syrup), I was all prepared to tell you how awesome they were, how you should read them because it was stuff every parent needs to know. You still should because it is still good stuff, but I feel the need to comment.

In her conclusion she says some stuff that while I can see the point of, I think is personally pretty hateful, and more than little misguided. In fact my first response was to say "f@#$ you". So, read her stuff, it is good, but read this too when you're done. Now is fine.

OK, done?

First, after getting angry, I realized that I have something in common with how she feels, but it is about smoking. I am extremely frustrated about having to pay for the health care (both through tax dollars and group health plans) for people who willingly continue to pollute their bodies by smoking. We're not that different, but I still think she's missing something when it comes to her frustrations about universal health coverage.

Here is what I think she is missing. What I feel is short sighted and elitist (and well, Republican) on her part. Yes, paying for health care for all in the short term means paying for conditions that are preventable and caused by the owner of said condition. BUT the long term benefits of preventative care should reduce those costs over the long term. Parents of the children suffering from these conditions often times are under educated and sub-litterate themselves. Getting them in front of a doctor regularly can often times put a stop to some of those behaviors through education.

The other less tangible issue is that when a population has for generations had the powers that be not have their best interest at heart, there can be a deep seated mistrust in the helpful information provided. Believe me, that is very real. You can not simplify it as an issue of people not taking care of themselves, when they may not know or trust the information that you have available to you. I don't know how that get resolved, but getting people health care certainly won't hurt.

I think her information, and the conclusions that she comes to are good, but before she starts hating fat people, maybe she should be doing something. Something that gets to the people who really need it. People that wouldn't have access to or interest in her blog. What about starting with day cares? Day cares serving low income families have the option of participating in the USDA food program. This program does not restrict known harmful ingredients such as trans fat and HFCS and those things, along with a host of other less than favorable substances, are ripe in the food purchased with those dollars. Starting the cycle young, and government funded no less. Those same issues continue into school food programs and free and reduced lunch programs. The only way those things change is if we get involved. Taking care of your kids is great, throwing out the Hershey's is good (though I'm torn about wasting chocolate in any form), but if she is that upset, what action is she taking to help everyone?

I am by no means getting a high horse about this. I'm not perfect, but what she said makes me mad. I have risks in my family tree for Type 2 diabetes that existed before the advent of HFCS so I know how serious it is. I'm taking steps to change them for me and my family, but I'm also working to make sure that I'm helping my neighborhood too. Advocating with day cares and pushing the issue while using the dollars that I spend as leverage. I can do more though, and I'm making the commitment to. Right here, right now. Certainly a better use of my energy than anger.

And then I saw my shadow

Going into this month, I knew it was going to be hell. Work is going to be beyond busy, so I knew it. Six more weeks of crazy and super cold on top of it, but I was prepared for that.

However, I wasn't expecting M to get sick. We already had our one major illness for the winter, but I guess I had forgotten that she was overdue for a respiratory bug. Night before last she was up coughing (well not up so much as sleeping through coughing), and while she had a low grade fever, it was just that, low grade. Totally could be caused by her two year molars which are about to pop through. Not enough to be required to keep her home from daycare. (if it had been a different week, I would have kept her home though)

Last night while she didn't cough, she cried, and fought with me comforting her enough that I just let her have it out with her stuffed animals in her crib eventually. I am more than willing to let her sleep in our bed provided that I feel it is actually helping her. Keeping her from kicking me while hurling herself off the bed is not helping. During the night her breathing sounded off enough I knew she would be home today. Poor A, a Dr. visit, home all day, and bed time alone (fortunately I made it home just in time for bedtime).

I hated being right, especially after we were just at the Dr. on Sunday (for the low grade fever and possible ear drainage), but she needs nebulizer treatments again. You see, M was born three weeks early. While there were no major issues with it at the time, she did have the cord around her neck, and if I remember correctly, wasn't able to be brought right to me because she wasn't crying right. Add to that that both A and either have asthma ourselves or a history of asthma in our families. I fear this will be a regular winter tradition for us. Fortunately (maybe due to us being paranoid and able to pay lots of co pays) she's never had pneumonia. Hopefully it stays that way. A little TV while getting nebs isn't a bad price to pay.

She should be better in a week to ten days. My projects last for another six weeks. I guess Punxsutawney was right.

You never know how much water...

... your body is made of until it tries to get rid of it. All at once.

The diuretic is kicking my ass. I drink, I pee, I drink, I pee. I also don't sleep because if I get up while M is restless she wakes up and then I really don't sleep, so I lay in bed trying not to think about having to pee. Eventually when I do get up, I feel better, but then I can't fall back asleep very well. And then I have to pee again.

I owe a lot to a coworker of mine who was very open about her experience with preeclampsia. If it wasn't for her, I would have never been as prepared as I was for how they would react and what would happen when my slowly creeping higher blood pressure finally turned ugly. One of the things she told me about was that after she gave birth, while recovering from her emergency c-section, all of a sudden her body got rid of the water it was retaining. She said it seemed like she peed for a day. After I gave birth, I wanted that so bad. The magnesium had made me extra bloated, and in the time leading up to M's birth, the edema had made me uncomfortable and itchy. It didn't happen, it was slow, and the itching sucked.

What is happening now, is what I thought would happen then. I'm sort of hoping it wears off a little after I shed all of my water weight (almost five pounds in two days). I know I will always deal with this side effect a little and need to stay hydrated all the time. I just hope it is worth it.

A Big Fat Hairy Deal

Apparently, I'm just really hairy for no good reason. My tests made it back in time, and while my testosterone is not low, it is not high either. That means basically that while I may still have PCOS, it is unlikely. Unlikely enough to not get an ultrasound to know for sure.

I was given a prescription for Sprionolact, which blocks testosterone to hair follicles. The thinking being that maybe I've got some super sensitive hair follicles. However it's main function is as a diuretic medication for high blood pressure. It can cause potassium issues (no banana for you!), and I should have to pee a lot. (yay, cause I don't do that enough...)

What I wasn't expecting was that it would hit me so hard. I wanted it to be something solid and specific. I wanted it to be something that I could attack, could deal with. There is no guarantee that this medication will help at all. That means that I may never wear a foundation makeup again, will never be comfortable having my picture taken, will never want to socialize like I used to. I realized how crippled I have been by my own insecurities about this. I'm so afraid of what people will think, of how I don't want anyone to see me like this, so I sit at home to avoid dealing with it. Not only am I fat, I'm hairy, and while there are some pretty fat girls, they certainly aren't covered in hair. I don't feel pretty in the slightest.

So I cried a little bit while driving back to work, and made a stop at Target to get the prescription filled so I didn't have to go back right away. While I waited I went and tried on clothes since I have two pairs of jeans that really fit, and they're starting to show the wear. The ones I got fit well, and were a smaller size than I expected. (still starts with a 2, but ah well) I even tried on some trouser jeans that were flattering but would require high heels, which sort of set me off about how with big feet I can't get any good shoes. (facial hair of a guy, and shoes as big as a drag queen's...)

I've had a little time to think and I need to do something about how I feel about myself. I won't be a good role model for M if I keep this up. If it takes saving up for laser hair removal or waxing regularly (ouch!) then I guess I save up the money or suck up the pain. Try and take the time to make sure that I feel good about myself. Maybe I'll start with some professional waxing and some dressy shoes that actually fit so I can wear those flattering trouser jeans. (A girl cannot life in Keen's alone) Maybe the medication will work, but I will do my best to love myself not matter what.

Updates etc, etc, etc...

I emailed M's old teacher and got a polite little response back. End of story, nothing more to do. Still curious and a little bummed, but that is the way it goes.

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Transition to Older Toddlers is going incredibly well. The combination of the new larger room with new challenges, as well as the warmer weather allowing her to go outside means that she has actually been in a much better mood in the evenings. I think next week (even with more cold) will be even better. She is talking every night all the time. I understand next to nothing she says and usually just agree. Not sure, but I may have agreed to a tattoo when she turns two...

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Next week I have an appointment to see my endocrinologist. I had my blood work done this week (hopefully the tests will be back in time). I'm both scared and excited about this. Part of me really wants it to be PCOS since it would explain so much. But on the other hand, knowing the other health problems that could mean, it would suck equally as much. I do think that possibility of looking less like a pre-op transsexual wins in the end.

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So far the healthier eating/lose weight thing seems to be making slow but steady progress. I just need to add in the exercise component. To help with that, I'm thinking about doing the March of Dimes walk this April. Having had pre-eclampsia I know how important the work they do is, and I think it would be a good tradition to start with M. I can do the Minneapolis walk which is 8 miles, or the St. Paul one which is 3.6 (I think). I'm afraid of the training and weather impact of the Minneapolis one (8 miles of cold would suck), and afraid to look like Flotsam's stalker if I do the St. Paul one.