So this is what Real Americans do on Black Friday

As our Thanksgiving feast of Obscene Quantity and Also Very Much Lots of Heaping Stuffing was wrapping up last night I overheard my cousins and sister planning out the early morning Black Friday plan of attack. I rubbed my belly and was emphatic in my decision to not leave my bed and join The Crazy this morning. Did I mention that I am a liar?

My sister started texting me from the Target line about 6 a.m. Ruby crawled into bed with us at 6:10 a.m. She has very bad breath. I had to get out of there. I was in the car by 6:12 a.m. and headed to my local Fred Meyer store where, surprisingly, I was one of 6 shoppers. I gulped down the free coffee at the door to chase three mini donuts, and bravely rolled the cart toward the toy aisle with powdered sugar on my chin. Like any Real American, I suppose, I loaded that Goddamn cart till it begged for mercy. I went down my mental list of every person I know and threw shit in the cart. I was in such a frenzy I almost started shouting "YOU get a bike and YOU get a bike! EVERYBODY GETS A MOTHERFUCKING BIKE!" But, alas, I could not speak because my mouth was full of more dry donuts.

I suppose I didn't spend as much as many people, considering it was under $350 for everyone on my list (Note to people on my list: Don't get to excited.). I topped off my trip with some better coffee, picked some up for Davey and made myself a hero.

I deserve a nap.

The one where I have not snapped out of it yet part 347

Greetings! While I am certainly pleased that you are continuing to read Ye Old Blog of Doom and Despair, I am still a bit confused as to why. Very well then, without further ado, I bring you the latest tale of woe:

Last week I went somewhere I never in this life thought I would end up and although the possibility of such a visit was always tucked away in my Worst Things That Could Possibly Happen Ever file, it was still a shock. Last week my sister and I had to accompany our mother to an Oncology appointment. Where we were told she has cancer. Specifically, Lymphoma. Mom has been sick for awhile now. It started last spring when she became so tired that her stamina was entirely gone. Then the stomach pain started. She couldn't keep food down and had terrible pain. This was promptly followed by random fevers. She kept insisting that she was just upset because of her semi-retirement and selling her house. "If I can just......." fill in the blank "I'll be fine." She started losing weight. Quickly. When her move was complete and she continued to have these symptoms I finally made the appointment for her myself. That was three weeks ago. Her doctor sprung into action and it has been a whirlwind of tests, scans and The Waiting. There are only a few more things for her to endure (Two Words: Bone Marrow) and we will know how bad this thing is. We were told to expect chemo soon.

We are hopeful. She is hopeful. My mom has cancer and she is going to make it.

Chaotic

Somehow I thought that as the girls got older and we got some more experience with this whole Responsible Parenting gig that things would run smoother. I was, to my chagrin, wrong. The past few months (year?) has been fraught with the best and worst life has to offer.

I had a fantastical weekend of debauchery with two of my besties and that was good. Then there was The Flu (possibly The Oinks, but am trying not to go there). We recovered! And relapsed. I landed my dream job! For some reason I discovered that in exchange for shiny dollars, I actually have to, you know, work. So there is some schedule re-configuring to be done, but I am not really complaining.

Now that Goldie is four as in "Mom, now that I'm FOUR! I really think that I should, you know do grown up stuff, like have a baby." OMFG, deep breath. Ahem. Anyway, Goldie is showing signs of actual lucidity when she is delightful and fabulous and helpful and I just look at her wondering if the past few years had as many not-delightful moments as I seem to remember. Then I watch Ruby pee herself on purpose and that totally jogs my memory.

Church continues to dominate most of my free time. And when I say free time, I mean, the time that I really do not have but create out of fumes and sheer force of my will because it is that important.

In other news, extended family dificulties abound that I can't really talk about right now. Suffice it to say that life has handed me a foot long shit sandwich on rye and even though I am trying to stay positive, I am not quite ready to make Shit SandwichAde yet.

Will add that to the list.

An open letter to 31 and 5

Dear 31,

This morning I opened my eyes to find you watching me. The experience was decidedly different than last year when 30 snuck up behind me, covered my eyes and scared the bejesus out of me because, really? Who really knows what 30 might have up her sleeve. As much trepidation that came before the time 30 actually showed up, she made a lot of positive changes around here.

The past year has forced me to face the best and worst experiences life has thrown me. While those details don't matter, the results do. 31 finds me a humbler, kinder, more content person. I consume less and create more. I use less energy from the grid in favor of elbow grease. I am learning to release the fear and embrace opportunity. Sometimes it is easier than others.

29 was sort of a blur of anxiety and insecurity, but 30 brought with her many of the pieces to the puzzle I had been missing. 30 brought a sense of completeness. I discovered a confidence that had been missing and with it optimism and hope. I remember being told as a young woman that just because one is legally an adult at 18 or 21, it takes another decade or so to truly be a grown up. I get that now.

Today I am 31 years old. There is nothing I would rather be.

Welcome.

Dear 5,

I'll keep this short because if I think about it too much I will get upset and then I won't be hungry for cake and ruin my party. However, I want to aknowledge the unfairness that I feel whenever I let my mind wander back to 5 years ago today. I'm not sure why you had to die on my birthday, Dad. I'm not sure why your healthy body suddenly gave out without any warning at only 58 years old. I still can't wrap my head around the fact that you never met my children or my husband and can't accept the reality that I can't dial you up and fill you in on the latest.

I don't have the burden of wondering how we could learn to understand each other and not be so chronically disappointed in one another. 5 years, one marriage and two children have taught me a lot. I learned that as much as you infuriated and confused me, the deeper I look inside myself, the more of you I find. You weren't a bad guy, Dad. You were just a man trying to do the best he knew how and I know you gave us all you had to give. 5 years ago I watched the doctors take you off life support and will never forget looking at your tanned, muscular arms thinking about how the day before you were working in the fall sun.

5 years ago I lost my dad. And it sucks.

Bah.

I wrote a whole post that I really liked. Then I managed to delete it through the Great Cut And Paste Debacle of 2009. So. Frustrating.

So. How about some pictures? The girls have been enjoying walks together in the neighborhood. As much time as they spend bickering and screaming, these are the times that I remember why, pray tell, we did this:


This one is a few months old, but I love it. The child who AM NO TIRED! was, in fact, quite tired. So tired, was this child, that she managed to sleep through an entire meal at Chevy's. Why did we go to Chevy's? Because I had a coupon. The end.

Pinch Me

Big! Things! have been happening here at Chez Davey these days. Unfortunately, none of the aforementioned Big! Things! will be of interest to you and include boring details that I am totally going to tell you anyway:

• It took three years and copious amounts of liquor, a trip to Atlanta, the alienation of my family and friends and becoming an absentee parent, but my job as Chair of the Search Committee for a pastor of my church has finally come to an end! I am pleased to say that it was all worth it because after a decade long battle to become a truly inclusive congregation, we found the most amazing person to lead us, who happens to be gay. And there was nary a vote in opposition. I'm still a little teary-eyed.
  
• I can't give out the deets, but lets just say that the dream job I have been, you know, dreaming of? The one I can do what I love? at home? on staff? No set schedule? Perhaps becoming reality.

If only the zit goatee would disappear and cake could somehow become resistible (CAKE!), life would be perfect. Even so, I'm not complaining.

Belle

A quick update for y'all, and I am saying ya'll because I am in Atlanta and I am always looking for reasonable excuses to say ya'll without seeming ridiculous. Perhaps I have been unsuccessful in that endeavor. Ahem. Anyway. Yeah. I'm in Georgia and despite my earlier delusions, there is nary a peach to be found and I seriously bought an apple from Washington yesterday and my head started spinning as I calculated the food miles it took to send a Washington apple to Georgia plus flying me here to get it. I don't think the people here know about food miles. I am such an Oregonian. Also, no one has invited me to that courtillian I had so been looking forward to.

Other than that, I am having a fantastical time with inspiring friends and drinking wine whenever possible.

It's hot. I smell. I am having an amazing time.

The not as much of an elephant in the room

I am a chronic oversharer. Obviously. This blog is a place I can talk about most anything on my mind, but certain topics have been off-limits because, well, you're not the boss of me. So there. I have avoided talking about my weight because seriously? It makes me uncomfortable. However, a lot of people ask me how I have lost the weight, and I am no stranger to discomfort.

First, the stats (which face it, is really all you want to know anyway): I have lost 85lbs in about a year and a half. My goal was to lose 50lbs, so I guess that makes me an overachiever.

I had two kids in less than two years. I got fat. I wanted to punch every doctor, author and other persons who breathed air, directly in the face when they told me that breastfeeding would help me to lose weight. Do you want to know why? IT DIDN'T HELP ME LOSE WEIGHT! In fact, I gained weight while breastfeeding. From the moment I gave birth until the moment I stopped breastfeeding, I was starving. Ravenous. And lets face it, brownies taste good. The experience was horrifying. Looking terrible was the least of my worries. I couldn't do the stuff I wanted to do. I couldn't keep my children out of harms way. Everything was hard. It was no way to live.

I don't have any shocking weight loss secrets, and I certainly don't have all the answers. There wasn't any one thing that has helped, rather, it has been a million tiny things that have added up to great results. Don't get too excited, you can find any of these tips in every women's magazine ever written.

How I did it:

• The mental component: I stopped hating myself. I stopped feeling guilty about overeating. I realized that just because I ate too much on vacation last week doesn't mean that I should overeat every day for the next two weeks. Somewhere I read something that likened this logic to "just because I didn't brush my teeth before bed last night, should I give up and not brush them in the morning?" Yeah, it makes no sense to me either.
• The task of losing weight was so overwhelming and I didn't know where to start. I approached it like I would any other skill wanted to learn and I researched it. Not so much by reading books, but by watching people who were not fat. What did they do? I found that thin people didn't approach food with emotion or guilt. "I ate too much yesterday. I won't eat so much today." Duh.
• I stopped drinking soda several times a day. I drink one or two a week.
• I eat food that I cook myself. I eat whole foods. Virtually no fast food. We stopped eating out all the time. I don't buy many packaged foods. For example: instead of canned chili, I make my own.
  
• I try to eliminate high fructose corn syrup, msg, hydrogenated oils, enriched flours and most processed food. They make me hungry. Instead of cheerios, I eat oatmeal. I know what's in it.
• I try to watch what I eat 85% of the time and then I can eat what I want the rest of the time.
  
• I don't drink unless I am going out with friends or at a party.
  
• Do you know what it feels like to be full? to be hungry? I had no idea. I learned some about Intuitive Eating. The idea is to eat when you are hungry, stop when you are full. Eat what you want or you will end up overeating. Deprivation leads to binging. This is hard, really hard. But very effective.
• I eat on small plates, measure food and share with others. Instead of ordering one meal for myself and one for the girls and eat mine plus their leftovers, I order one for the three of us and am surprised that we often still have leftovers.
  
• I eat slow. I put down the fork, chew and swallow every bite before loading up the fork again. It used to be that I would shovel it in as fast as I could so that I wouldn't get full before I ate all I wanted to. I was also a crazy person.
• I don't finish my plate if I'm full. I throw it away.
• I was satisfied to lose even 1/4 of a lb per week, I didn't want to obsess and try to get it off quick. I learned patience.
  
• Notice how I haven't mentioned exercise? Because I can't seem to stick with regimented exercise. Instead of giving up completely, I just do a tiny bit more than I would normally. I park far away from the store. I make extra trips up and down the stairs. I run around with my kids.
  

See what I mean? boring boring boring. But it has worked. And I am glad. I know how easy it is to gain back and am just trying to take it one day at a time. Wish me luck.

I should totally get paid for this plug, but I'm not

People who have been forced to sit through my long-ish rants about the evils of various corporate empires (Tip: Do not ask my opinion of High Fructose Corn Syrup if you have any pressing plans)and Comcast has been at the top of my list. I ditched the cable in favor of dish, but felt like Comcast had me by the balls for fast internet without a phone line.

Enter Clear Wimax. They are only here in Portland, Atlanta and Las Vegas. I was very skeptical and couldn't find much about them, but gave it a go because I was tempted by city wide wireless internet and home internet for less than I have been paying my Craptastic! provider.

I'm hooked. It's fast. It works. It's cheap. I can get online with my netbook all over town and wherever their network is. Will come in handy when I go to Atlanta in a couple weeks I suppose. Their sales staff is not the brightest, but neither is Comcast's.

You should try them too.

Vacation-ish

Contrary to popular opinion, I have not fallen off the edge of this giant flat earth. Rather, the job of trying to keep us all alive and reasonably clean and healthy is taking up more energy than I have to give. I am going to give credit to this sudden increase in difficulty to the The Whining because, Mother Fuck, The Whining is threatening to kill us all. Slowly. There is also the fact that Ruby has Escaped From Crib Mountain one year ahead of schedule and also? The Whining.

This weekend I took the girls to a resort with my mom for a relaxing vacation. However, we underestimated the power of The Whining and so are making the best of the situation while trying not to Murder The Children WHO WILL NOT STOP WHINING. You see, they live miserable lives. All of the swimming, ice cream, playgrounds, arts and crafts, walks and chips are apparently SHEER TORTURE to children who have been cruelly denied their favorite activity of CONSTANT SCREAMING.

Mom and I are currently performing furious Craigslist searches looking for hot pokers to stick in our eyes. It really would be more humane.