From the archives at Homeschoolblogger.com at queenteamx365 - Apr. 25, 2008: Can I be the Biggest Loser?

Starting a "Biggest Loser" Club within my homeschool support group turned out to be exactly the right move for me.  Thankfully, a couple of my blogger buddies were game, and the responses to the announcement about it were enthusiastic.  We limited the Club to those who were at least 20 lbs. over the top of their healthy weight range for their height and to those who could commit completely to losing 15 lbs. over the length of the 8 week competition.  All had to be homeschool moms and members of this support group.  We will have formal weigh-ins every 2 weeks and there is a planned activity on the weeks there isn't a weigh-in.  Members agreed that journaling their food intake in detail, and exercising a minimum of 30 minutes per day, 5 times a week would be our primary strategy.  Each had to choose her own diet plan and form/s of exercise.  We are not only competing individually, but have divided into teams.  This gives each of us a stake in the other's progress.  If someone on the team GAINS weight, well, that erases the fact that someone else has LOST weight.  Also gives you a big sense of responsibility.  And accountability.  In short, it is proving to be a recipe for success. I had been floundering in my efforts to lose the necessary 75 lbs. before, but the specter of a public weigh-in got me on track abruptly.  I started in earnest the week before the first BL Club Meeting, in a conscious effort to avoid the "I'm going on a diet Monday, so have to pig out all weekend" syndrome.  This got me down to a not-so lean, but very, very mean (drumroll,  please) -- Two hundred and twenty six pounds.  I know, I know.  Scary.  I'm 5 ft. 6 and one-half inches tall, so it isn't like I'm carrying it well, either!  This was at the first official BL Weigh-in on April 14th.  If my scales are to be believed, I'm down to Two hundred and eighteen and one-half pounds, as of this morning.   So that is 7.5 lbs -- and if you add on the 3 or 4 I lost before the program started, I'm really making some progress.  Already, I've broken the plateau that I had reached in my earlier efforts. At times, I'm sure I'm just having an out-of-body experience, for I seem to have developed some very non-Queenlike habits.  Now, instead of driving around doing errands or shopping while waiting for my kids in their classes and lessons, I pop the baby into his stroller and hit the Greenbelt to get my exercise in.  That's easy, because I now carry a pair of tennis shoes and some socks in my car.  And sometimes, the kids' bikes, so they can have fun, too.  I keep my iPod in my purse at all times, just in case an opportunity to go sweat in solitude should arise.   Oh, and water bottles everywhere.  (Don't worry, I'm recycling...)  All these years, I've honestly believed I didn't have time or opportunity to exercise.  I think I've debunked that pretty thoroughly now, since the King has been out of the country for 2 weeks and I've still managed to do something every day that I needed to.  Mostly, it is walking, and sometimes, it is my exercise bike.  Once, I did a workout video (I was skeptical before, but no more!), and another time, I played soccer and frisbee with 2 of my Club Cohorts and all the children present.  Nothing like a game of soccer with a gaggle of 8 and 10 year olds to show you how pathetically out of condition you are! I'm not saying that I haven't found myself on the exercise bike at midnight a couple of times, because that was really the first opportunity I had.  But generally, where there's a will there's a way .  Somedays, the will may not have been where it needed to be, BUT a team member was there to make sure I didn't falter.  Every day, I've learned something new about myself, or about addiction, excuses (many of them my own!), or people in general.  It is so nice not to be "in it alone."  As I mentioned before, a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.  But the trip will sure go faster if you have a companion -- or 8!

From the Archives of Homeschoolblogger.com at queenteamx365 - Apr. 12, 2008: Leaving this World

No, I'm not contemplating ending it all.  In fact, I'm feeling rather joyous!  I've remembered who I really am. A memory hit me this week when talking to my dear friend Mrs. MonkeyParade about our new initiative.  (Yes, Adult ADD is a real condition!)  As I walked tonight, I remembered this incident from long ago in greater detail.  I've skiied about a hundred million times and never once hurt myself.  I played basketball ONCE in college to fill in for someone and tore a bunch of ligaments in my ankle.  I wound up with a cast on my leg and crutches for a really long time.  Not a fun thing to deal with in college, might I add.  I had to work through a lot of surprising challenges everyday and it was a very humbling experience:  how to carry my books to class (find some boy to do it); how to get my meal tray to a table; what shoe to wear on the other foot, etc., etc.  Well, I was really starting to feel sorry for myself for a while there, when I bumped into Eddie Stephens. Eddie had blown out his Achilles tendon.  HIS cast went practically from the bottom of his foot to his armpits.  He was going to be on those despised crutches forever, compared to my 4 to 6 weeks.  He was much worse off than me.  But was he feeling sorry for himself?  NO!  Eddie was absolutely injected with life.  We started hanging out, helping each other, and before we knew it, two other girls injured themselves and joined our little gimp's club.  Soon, we had figured out how to play flag football, on crutches, roller hockey on crutches (we could share skates, since we each had only one good foot), climb a few campus trees, and countless other things.  What started out to be an isolating, social semi-catastrophe, turned out to be a real test of our mettle.  And I passed with flying colors.  I became MORE active than I had been when both legs were operational.  It was with some pride that I heard the doctor say something along the lines of "Gee, this cast is broken in 3 places and covered with grass stains!" Well, THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is how I want to leave this world.  With all obstacles to living life at its best broken in three places and/or at the very least, covered with green stains from the trying. I remember how badly I longed to be able to go running, or climbing, or whatever, when I was locked into that body limited in mobility by that cast and crutches.  And for a long time after that, I remembered to squeeze as much life as possible out of every moment lest the worst ever happen and I got permanently stuck like that.  But eventually, life happened.  The single largest contributing factor in that 75 lbs. gain is that I had children, and with that came a million excuses for not "getting out there."  Now, I'm trapped in a cast of my own making.  About 75 pounds of it!  So the things I love to do are difficult for me, if not impossible.  And if I manage them anyway, I'm somewhat embarrassed about it.  You should see people stare when a 225 pound woman skis down the hill!  And I'll never forget when I was getting into the kayak at the bioluminescent bay on Vieques, PR, and the guy said "Um, you'll need to get into one ofthose kayaks" pointing to some larger ones.  That was at the height of my denial, so I thought "What the heck is he talking about??" When you are young, there is always time to do it tomorrow, next week, next month, or next year.  But I'm not young anymore.  I hit 43 this year.  Noone can deny that my life is more than halfway over, according to the actuary tables, at least.  Do I want to go out sitting in a wide-bottomed cushy chair, remembering all the fabulous things I've done in my life, but really unable to replicate any of them?  Or do I want to go out the way I lived when I was happiest?  Maybe a few broken bones here and there, and lots of grass stains, but with a grin firmly planted on my wrinkled face. I know the answer to that question. The odds are against my success.  Most people who get to a BMI with the label "Severely Obese" are not able to permanently change their condition for the better.  Over the years, I've lost and regained more pounds than most of you weigh to begin with.  But I have to try, don't I? Desperate times call for desperate measures.  I've started a Biggest Losers' Club.  There will be lots of adventure to report in the weeks to come.  And hopefully, those adventures will include at least 8 others who are temporarily handicapped by extra weight, but are game to start living life at its fullest.    A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.  Unfortunately, so does a journey of 100 yards.  So, my friends, I'm asking for help:  Please pray that my Team members and I can stay the course and meet our goals and achieve a permanent healthy lifestyle change. I'm going to be posting some very embarrassing information about myself in this blog in the near future.  So check back!  I need the accountability.

From the Archives at Homeschoolblogger.com at queenteamx365 - March 11, 2008: Just because I'm not blogging about it...

..doesn't necessarily mean I'm not doing something! 

The King and I slipped away for 2 glorious days of skiing last week.  In Utah.  Where they have actual snow versus mere "vertical ice rinks."  That was last Sunday and Monday for me (3/2/ and 3/3).  The King is in better shape and actual skiied during a veritable blizzard on Tuesday as well (he later admitted that 8 degrees Fahrenheit with hurricane-strength winds had rendered it sort of a waste of money).  Happily, we had fabulous weather the day before, and jolly snowflakes intermittent with startling sunshine the day before that.  The Thursday before that trip, I had skiied some 6 hours or so up at Ober Gatlinburg.  There was a good snow fall (8 or 9 inches) so we just canceled school and hit the slopes!   I felt the burn that day, to be sure.  I was practically a cripple from the burn in Utah.  So, I've got a whole new resolve to get in shape.  The King promises to give me another shot at Utah if I can pull myself back together by next winter.

So, both yesterday and today, I snuck out of the house for 2 mile walks.  That's the distance to my mailbox and back.  I must say, I was moving kind of slow by the time I made it up the hill and back on the driveway both ways.  The secret is to turn the volume on your iPod to a level that camouflages the ragged sound of your breathing and the noisy beating of your heart.   Do that, and you can totally believe yourself to be young and slim again.  Throw in Alanis Morrisette, and you are guaranteed to burn off some hostilities. 

So strap on your iPods, grab your bottled water and whistle for the dog -- let's hit the slopes of Walland together.

From the Archives at Homeschoolblogger.com of Chronicles of a Family at Home - Oct. 26, 2007: Envy, covetousness, and True-but-crazy Confessions

I have a confession to make. 

I'm an avid reader of Jenig's blog.  That part is not the confession.  I really enjoy her blog and learn quite a lot from it.  It often inspires me.  She posts things of actual importance, unlike, uh, ME, who may periodically manage to post completely insignificant things like the odd price for a gallon of milk.  No, this confession involves a sin so grievous that I cannot believe I am typing it out loud.  I read this blog yesterday, which states among other things, that the Ig family van had died.  While I had felt appropriately sympathetic when reading all the other not-so-pleasant items that had occurred, this one gave me quite a perverse reaction.  I'm so sorry, Jen, because I realize the loss of this vehicle is causing your family great inconvenience.  But as soon as I read that line, I felt a twinge of envy.  Yes, I know -- completely inappropriate.  I should have fallen to my knees in prayer that God would immediately provide you with more transportation.  But I couldn't, because I felt jealous!

If my van were broken, I could cancel everything and just stay at home.  No Enrichment Classes, Boy Scouts, Piano Lessons, Boot Camp, Cub Scouts, Doctor Appointments, etc.  [Notice I left Book Club Meetings off the list.]  I could just stay in my pajamas, and skip the eternal search through the piles of laundry on the floor for appropriate clothing that doesn't need ironed.  No packing up baby, barking orders to little boys to carry this, that, and the other thing.  No stress of being chronically 15 minutes late to raise my blood pressure, my voice, and my ridiculously unrealistic expectations of everyone else.  No snarky comments from the husband on how many Starbuck's coffee cups are left in the car (okay, and cinnamon scone bags), or half-eaten burgers or chicken nuggets scattered across the floor.  No having to remember what color the lid was on that recently refilled purple sippy cup (or was it green?) in order not to poison the child with the contents of a sippy -- or two -- of another color rolling perpetually back and forth under the driver's seat for the last week.  No dragging that bohemoth of a stroller out of the trunk and then dragging the bohemoth of an infant seat out to stick in it in order not to have to wrestle the bohemoth of a baby in my arms up and down hallways and stairs with a diaper bag and a purse both filled beyond capacity with junk I just don't need for that particular outing. 

Sometimes, a person can take a vacation and come back all refreshed and prepared to face their world.  I think that's really the general goal of most vacations.  But other times, a vacation points out all the things that are causing disharmony in your life and begs you to change it.  I thought my recent visit to Utah was the former, but it really was the latter.  Even on the return trip home, I found myself DREADING the restarting of this merry-go-round which has really  begun to circle too quickly for me since the full mobility of Baby.  My answer to most everyone's request for me to do something lately has been:  "Um, NO, I won't agree to do that because my head is already about to blow off."  And it really didn't feel as though I were exaggerating. 

So I think, instead of pushing my van right off the hill and uttering the magic words "Calgon, take me away," that I really might consider cutting back on some things.  Try to find a level of activity that I can be successful with.  And who knows, maybe move the piles of laundry from the floor to the couch.

Oh, and to make reparations to JenIG, I should ask if any of you know of a reasonably priced car or van they might be able to purchase?

From the archives at Homeschoolblogger.com from Chronicles of a Family at Home - October 6, 2007: Bryce Canyon, Utah

Today, I did something I haven't done in 14.5 years.  I drove around the rim of Bryce Canyon with my hubby.  The first time, the King and I were honeymooning in Brian Head, Utah.  Freshly launched on our new life together.  This time, we had Baby in the backseat!  The big boys were in another family's van for the excursion -- a welcome relief after the longish drive from Park City , I'm ashamed to say.  Sadly, they evidently felt an equal volume of relief after 300 "stop thats" and 212 "don't touch him one more times" and about 114 of the ever-popular "don't wake the baby!"  But a couple hundred miles, 2 bags of chips, a shared chocolate bar, and 2 containers of cookies from Wild Oats (why don't we have Wild Oats in Blount County??),  we made it.

Bryce Canyon is truly breathtaking, and well-worth the drive.  Fall is a lovely time to visit Utah, so it is hard to keep your eyes on the road. 

Because we are flying by the seat of our collective pants (aka: not planning) and didn't actually know where we were going when we packed up to leave the condo this morning, we took a gamble on a motel for the night.  I don't think I've stayed in a motel vs. a hotel since my childhood.  Since things were mostly looking "full" or "sold out"on the King's handy dandy cellular internet connection, this afternoon, we had to book sight-unseen.   Thankfully, the gamble paid off, and we got a very clean room straight out of the 50s (I'm guessing), with orange and brown striped wallpaper in the bathroom, and actual KEYS!  (Not a cardkey.)  Not even one of those chains on the door!  But as I said, place is clean as a whistle and apparently a family enterprise which encompassed the last couple of generations and is still going strong.  Does the heart good to see such dedication. 

Best of all, it is supposed to snow tonight. 

From the archives at Homeschoolblogger.com for Chronicles of a Family at Home - October 16, 2007: Boating, Fear Factor, and the Power of Prayer

Sometimes, as a parent, I get my priorities all wrong. 

The other day, we went to start up the boat after anchoring for lunch and discovered the battery was dead.  Deader than 4 o'clock.  Wouldn't turn over at all.

Our middle son, Princeofthehilltoo, instantly started working into a panic attack. (Happens all the time.) We knew our dear boating friends, Tim and the Mrs., were back at the marina, but my cell phone wasn't working consistently out there, which got the little guy further into a lather. When we did get our friends, they told us their boat was broken and they couldn't get out of the marina. More stress for son. The husband of the couple who was out with us immediately asked Stressed Son if he wanted to pray about it right then and there and out loud. Well, I was a little resistant and a little skeptical, because I didn't want to validate Stressed Son's irrational fear. I didn't want to inadvertently let him think there might REALLY be a problem. I mean, we weren't in any danger, had a full picnic basket, were within swimming distance of the shore where there was a conveniently placed road, etc., etc. But our friend started a prayer and his little girl prayed and Son prayed aloud also with no urging.

Mind you, I hadn't been the least worried other than for the inconvenience to us and risk of marring our guests' outing, but I had noticed we had the lake all to ourselves. No other boats were in evidence. Plus we were in a little bay, back off the main lake.  Well, it wasn't a minute before a boat came into sight, and maybe 5 minutes before 3 boats came right to us or past us. Meanwhile, the cell phone rings clear as day and it is Tim and he was jumping in his car to head our way. The first boat to arrive immediately towed us to a dock that, unbeknownst to us, was only about 200 yards away and only about 1/4 mile off the main road. Very obscure, though, no signs, so we weren't sure Tim could find us. However, no sooner had we tied our boat to the dock after receiving the blessed tow, than our Tim (with his 5 kids and sister and her 2 kids) arrived in his car and his sister's car from the Marina with a battery of exactly the right size in his hand to enable our trip to continue. And, I might add, a Superman emblem on his chest. Not really, but it makes the story sound better.

So, Stressed Son got to see the power of prayer in great detail. Think of all the things that fell into place, from the dim place it looked like we were to him.  And I almost robbed him of that gift by being more concerned about his anxiety disorder than introducing him to the power of prayer.

From the archives at Homeschoolblogger.com for Chronicles of a Family at Home - July 12, 2007: Garrison's Tree

In July of 2005, an old, old friend put her pen to paper and documented the funeral of our precious baby Garrison, who was born dead on July 13th from a cord accident.  She put the resulting  poem in one of the local papers so we would see it there, dedicated to us.  I thought I should post it now, since this week marks the second year to have passed since the worst day of my life.  My husband planted a tree just before the service that would, in a sense, grow and live in his name -- a lovely magnolia in a beautiful place on the hillside behind my family home.  It marks his grave.  Thus the title:  "Garrison's Tree." I'm going to turn off the comments feature, because I don't want to burden you with having to think up a response to such a sad thing.  But thank you for sharing this annual time of reflection with me.  When I read this poem, it is as though I'm looking at a video of the event.  And I haven't ever been able to hear Amazing Grace again without thinking of that time up on the grassy knoll. Garrison's Tree  A grassy knoll, A small new tree, A tiny mound of clay. The mountain sends It's warm embrace To those who stand and pray. Amazing Grace In solemn tones Drifts up to kiss the clouds. Mourners sing While Mother hugs A boy who weeps aloud. He never breathed A breath of life Outside his mother's womb. He'll never break His brothers' toys Or sneak into their room. But in the foothills Of the Smokies A little tree will grow. So will the love Of Mom and Dad -- And Garrison will know. In sympathy, From Karen Brackett July 13, 2005