Mother's Day Tribute

Have you hugged a mom today?

No matter who you are or where you are on your life journey, we all have a unique experience with our mothers. As Mother's Day approaches, no one is able to escape the Hallmarkable date of the first Sunday in May. You may not be a mom yourself but you are a son or daughter of a woman who gave birth to you and raised you the best she knew. Memories of our own moms can stir up a range of emotions, both the good and the bad.

Reflecting on Mother's Day, I realize that it has been two years and two months since my own mother has passed away. My mother and I had a tumultuous relationship throughout the 35 years of our lives together. There were years layered and sandwiched when we were the best of friends, and then other years when we were estranged, on non-speaking terms. Even with the challenging seasons of our relationship, I miss her terribly.

Those of you who have experienced a loss of your mother may understand my grieving process. Although we all grieve differently, you may be on a different grief track than I am on. My grief actually started before her death. I had to realize that she could not be the kind of mom that I had wanted or needed from her. She was limited in her own health and her own needs and nothing I could do could change that. As I matured into my 30s, I realized that I needed to let go of that ideal image of what a mother was in my own heart and mind and I needed to just love her as she was. Our relationship improved. It wasn't the kind of relationship I would have wished for, nor the type she wished for, but it was a mother daughter relationship that had grown to be strong and healthy, finally.

We talked on the phone often. She was a best friend to me in those last days. She would not only listen to all the details of my day, my job, my children, my garden, but she would actually want to know about all the details of my life. No other person has or probably will ever take that role in my life. This void in my heart reminds me of how much I miss her, all the goodness she brought to me.

I was especially reminded of her the other day. I was in Plymouth delivering fliers for some upcoming Tri Kappa events and I ran into some familiar friendly faces of some ladies having lunch at Sisters' Tea and Eatery. As I was walking by them with a smile and a friendly hello, they pulled a chair out for me and graciously invited me to sit with them for lunch. I sat down and listened to them talk about places they traveled to, their favorite places to eat, and shop. It was a short and savory lunch with some stylish and sassy ladies and as I drove home that day, I was tearfully reminded of my mom in that light and lively lunch conversation.

Since moving here to Culver shortly after my mom passed away, I never had the chance to tell her all about this new phase in my life. She hadn't heard about Phil's new job, Savana's new school, Sophia's new playgroup. Yet, there are so many moments in my day to day interactions that still make me feel close to my mom, like that impromptu lunch. I have another friend who last fall called me out of the blue to invite me to go antique shopping with her on a sunny afternoon in her convertible. That shopping day spurred on a new friendship and also rekindled happy memories of my own mom. I have been so blessed by so many new friends, all different ages, fitting different roles that my mom once fulfilled, either by being grandmotherly to my daughters, motherly to me, or just friendly and fun.

I bet these ladies don't even realize how valuable the time was that they shared with me. Likewise, I bet you may not realize what an impact you can have on others by reaching out, spending time, listening others around you. Spending time with others is an investment in not only your relationship with that special person, but also in our community, in our future.

Mother's Days come and go. Make this Mother's Day more momentous than just buying a card this year. Reach out to someone who has been motherly to you, or a younger person who may have lost his or her mom. Invest in that special place in someone's heart where the childhood needs and memories still live. Reach out and be a mom or hug a mom today.

I want to get back to "Simple"

One of the reasons I left corporate America, moved away from the windy city and embarked this new chapter in a small midwestern town was to simplify.

I had visions of writing in my journal more, playing with the kids outdoors, baking with fresh foods not boxed foods, learning about birds, reading books, scrap booking maybe even making soaps. I know, the soap dream may be a little ambitious, but my approach was to take it easy, slow down, care for myself so that I can care for my children.

It's been 20 months since we have moved. In the beginning, I did slow down. It was like I was on vacation. We rode our bikes everywhere, spent many morning hours at the beach and afternoon hours napping. I managed the home easily with simple lists that I would write up that would remind me which days I needed to dust, clean bathrooms, floors, laundry. For some reason I was able to manage all of my responsibilities and my life was happy.

I am not sure what happened though. At what point did it all go awry? When did I stop making lists? When did the laundry pile up to the ceiling? When did my calendar go from clean white boxes to scribbles, arrows and abbreviations that I can't recall and people's birthdays that I still forget to acknowledge? When did I go from feeling like my feet were strong to feeling weak in the knees and a strong desire to sleep in even though my children wake with the sun? Why do I make plans to do all these wonderful activities then dread the days and minutes leading up to them and then resent the moments following each appointment?

It all started last night, my realization that this wasn't the life I signed up for. Perhaps this isn't my first ah-ha moment at realizing the dysfunctions in my life and it certainly will not be my final epiphany either. Sienna, my first grader's spring break started this week. Feeling like there is nothing that my daughter enjoys other than her devotion to her Nintendo DS, I made the decision to do something special with her in hopes to draw her attention away from her DS. We were going on a date, a mom and daughter date. We would get our nails done then go out to dinner together, just she and me.

When I mentioned my idea to her, at first, she became angry. Why? I don't know. I have no idea. So, I just dropped the idea and decided that we would just stay at home - again! Oh well, after all, I have mounds of laundry to tend to.

Then, later in the afternoon, she walked up to me, hugged me and asked if we were going on our date. I said sure! I wanted to grab my keys and leave at that instant, happily wanting to bond with my little girl. We waiting for my husband to get home and the second he pulled in the drive, off we went. I realize that Sienna gets stirred up if I talk too much, and when I am excited, I tend to chatter on and on, so on the drive, I tried to distant myself from her and listen to the radio softly. The sun was glowing and the spring birds were dancing circles around our van as we drove past the fields on a country road into town. Not sure what happened in the back seat, but for some reason, Sienna instantly became demanding and had her angry eyes on. We had a heart to heart and then she said she was grumpy but didn't know why. That seems to be a running theme in her life these days. Mine too.

We pulled up to the nail salon, she walked up to the window, smashing her face into the window. I opened the door for her, warned her that the smells would be strong and then tried to distract her by asking her what color she was going to pick for her nails. She instantly told me she had changed her mind and decided that she DID want a pedicure too. Originally she was afraid of sticking her "feet in boiling hot water." But, when she spotted the fancy leather chairs and colored glass foot tubs, she experienced the powerful temptation of a glorious pedicure. A temptation that will revisit her as she continues her life journey past adolescence and into womanhood. She selected glittery polishes. I selected a basic dark rose color. We both sat in the chairs, quietly smiling and enjoying the sights, sounds, smells and the vibrations coming from our massage chairs. As we sat comfortably on our pedicure thrones, the asian ladies doing our toes just kept giggling at my daughter's expressions. It was one of those motherhood moments that was priceless to share with anyone who witnessed it.

Almost two hours of pampering, and $80 later, we slipped on our shoes and coats and headed to Pizza Hut where we would enjoy a free pizza Sienna earned from her Book It Reading program. As we were waiting for a table, there was a group of young girls also waiting for a table. They were a group of fifth graders we recognized from her school. It isn't like she flinched when she saw them, but she did change her demeanor in a flash. She started talking like a baby, tried sitting in the high chair that was next to us. She jumped up and down, she pulled on me and in trying to help her I compassionately told her that I understood that she was nervous. I suggested she stand like a lady who just had her nails done and be proud and happy to be on a girls night out with her mom. But, she couldn't hear a word I said because she would jet out her jaw and pout out her lips and whine like she was a toddler not getting her way. I asked her if we should just leave and she shook her head saying "no no no no no no!" as if she was having a panic attack or a nightmare. In hindsight, I realize I should have left at this point.

But, the hostess redirected us, handed her some crayons and walked us to our table. My daughter insisted that I sit with her on her side of the booth. I agreed and at first we enjoyed playing some of the games on the back of the paper placemat. Then, the group of girls walked by our table and were seated close to us. Sienna instantly jetted her jaw out again and speak in baby language, while banging her crayons. Again, I warned her to act appropriately or else we would need to leave the restaurant.

Was I too hard on her? At what point do you allow your children to be just children, faulty and quirky and when do you do what ever you can to help them to conform in attempt to help them?

She shut down. She tried melting down to the floor, I sternly told her to sit up, bottom on the seat, feet on the floor. She obeyed but still managed laying down on the booth seat. I decided to move to the other side of the booth, sitting across from her. She acted like I rejected her and went into full vicim mode on the verge of a tearful pout.

This was a familiar experience I used to have with my own mother. I was still playing the mother role then, and she would act out like Sienna. So many scenes were caused with her. Too many public embarrassment moments to mention or even to remember. I do recall the big ones, like at my highschool play, my graduations both from high school and college, my wedding, my pregnancy and delivery with my first born... When I was a child, I was the mother to my mother.

She would give the same looks to me when I would try to set boundaries with her. Such a life that I am more than willing to leave in the past yet still creeps up when I least expect it and least need to be reminded of it.

Anyhow, the pizza arrived and I found myself catching the stares of the people around us. Trying to not accept their judgements, although they did consume me in the moment and I felt as though I was an overstrict mean, terrible mother, not allowing my child to just be a child from some glares from fellow diners. From the other glares, I felt the conviction of not being strict enough and allowing my child of getting away with poor behavior. Public opinion on my parenting is a never ending never winning jury so I decided to take a recess, box up the pizza, tip the waitress and put my daughter's coat on her since she was unable to do it herself - at age seven. As she barked and made mild puppy noises, we exited from the restaurant and were safe from a possible scene, or did we make a scene? I can never tell anymore. The lines are fuzzy. All I know is that when the door closed behind us, the experience was also behind us. Finally. A nice moment to be shared between a mother and daughter in hopes of laughter and bonding, was now turned into an experience that finally had passed. Whew! Regretfully, whew.

We walked in the cool evening to the car, both glad for the change of scenery. Our happy toes and fingers smiling at us with each step. As we approached the van, I reached for my keys awkwardly with my left hand into my right pocket so that with my right hand I could hold on to the moment of holding Sienna's soft, tender hand. She hopped into the van and we both cheerfully buckled up. As we drove home, I told Sienna, "Thanks for going out on a date with me. I had so much fun with you!"

She replied, "Mom? Are we home yet?"

Whoa! Not expecting that tone of disrespect, I thought I would take a deep breath and use this moment as a teachable time. I told her, "If someone tells you that they had a nice time with you and then they even thank you for the time that you shared with them, you could say, "Thanks," or "Shucks, I had a good time with you too" but you don't change the subject with an angry tone. That is rude. Do you understand what I just said?"

With rolling eyes, Sienna replied a hasty "Shucks... Are we home yet?"

"Sienna, I loved spending the evening with you so much. But when you are rude like you are being right now, do you think that will make me want to plan something special like this again?"

She replied, "I said shucks, just like you told me to say." Why did I feel like I did something wrong? What just happened, I thought...

Then, she cried and screamed from the back seat of the van, "I was looking forward to this day for a long time and you ruined it for me. You made me so sad." Where did this drama come from? What is happening here?

Thankfully, we were pulling in our driveway. I opened the garage door, walked inside the house. I felt a familiar confusion, a resentment that a mom is not supposed to feel towards her beautiful little girl. I needed time to process it all. After my husband tucked her into bed, and he and I started talking about the evening, guess what the first thing my husband asked me?

"A two hour manicure and pedicure? How much did that cost?"

I used to get manis and pedis at least once a month at a spa. I used feel so lost in the mounds of confusion not to mention laundry. My life used to be more predictable, goal setting and achieving, rewarding. I used to just be a girl who fought a lot with her mother. I had stresses with being a woman in corporate America. Now, my mom has passed away. And now, my daughter has Aspergers, ADHD and Mood Disorders. I don't understand how to be a good mom to her. I fail so many times at my new role as a house wife. I fail at caring for myself like I want, like I need.

I take it a day at a time. I manage what I got. I cope through writing. Thanks for reading this long narrative.

My life as a parent is like swimming in scalding hot waters, then sometimes freezing waters. I don't even know how to detect the temperatures any more. I don't even try. At times, I even forget how to swim. At those moments, I quit kicking and I cry out to God, "Calm these waters Lord. Help me to endure. I'd ask you to help me to swim, but I would rather you just let me float right now. I am weary, wasted, wet with worry and the waters are too much for me." I glance at my earlier phases of life, I had a great suit, good form, I swam even labs, took even breaths, I was swimming and swimming. I just kept going without knowing where. Now, here I am. How did I get here? What is all this laundry doing in this water?

What Does Your Permission Slip Say?

After a long weekend of birthday celebrations that induced multiple visits and short road trips to visit extended family here and there I am thankful that it is Monday morning.

Our lives are back to normal, daughter's at school, husband's at work, my toddler - who will be three this Wednesday - is sitting here, nestled up to me, watching cartoons. We are both still in PJs lounging on the fluffy down comforter in my master bed room.

It has been a year and a half since I have left corporate America. I left a high six figure salary, my dream job. I said good-bye to my own company and brand that I built from scratch, along with the excitement and exhilaration of new business growth, client lunches and travel reward points. I still thumb through my stack of business cards as a high school quarter back peruses by the school trophy case.

I have taken on the role of being a stay at home mom as if it is a job. A job that I approached with personal goals on a weekly basis. A job, however, on a number of days I am very unqualified and lost without proper training, gifts or talents. At times I feel overwhelmed and begin to question my role as a stay at home mom. My time seems devalued by everyone; my opinion, worthless. No longer am I an expert and consultant to business owners, chief executives and managing partners in law firms, in these times, my own children don't even listen to me.

Once I was the breadwinner in the family and we focused on investing in my career vision. Now, my husband is the one whose career is thriving as he makes plans for enhancing his education, we plan on his career growth. He is the one who comes home late and attends conferences in the big cities.

Although there have been adjustments and many days that have filled my thoughts with regret and grief, today, I give myself permission to enjoy this new position in my life. God is the author of our lives, and He has already written our roles and service in His book. The entire life of my career, I relied on God's provision and timing and He blessed me and my family with success. There were times that I cried out to God to help me through the rough times. Today is no different.

He also blessed us with misfortune that changed our journey significantly. Within three months, my mother fell ill and passed away unexpectedly while my oldest daughter at age five was being diagnosed on the autism spectrum and ADHD. During this personal time of bereavement, there was no time for me to cry. Steeped deeply in deadlines and meetings with busy people, little empathy was stretched to me as a woman trying so hard to be strong and professional. My husband and I realized that we needed to adapt and change our lifestyle so that I could spend time on self care and health for both myself and my children. My five year old had many doctor and therapy appointments and my youngest who had just turned one wasn't getting the best of her mommy, only left overs from a busy, harried lifestyle.

We moved and changed our lives within a crisis moment in time. At times, I feel like our lives would have been better had we worked it all out and stayed put. It's the whole "grass is greener on the other side" motto. And in these times, I isolate myself in my own pity party. But lately, I have been feeling renewed again.

I feel the freedom of God's plan that He designed just for me and just for our family. I relax in His hands. And, I smile. I smile that I get to spend quality time with my little girls. Surely there are power struggles that beat me down stemming from the dysfunctions of autism and ADHD, but there are also cuddles and giggles that sustain me. I smile that I get to see my husband grow and develop into the man God wants him to be. I smile and breathe a deep breath of clean air from a Midwestern small town. I smile realizing that I don't have to wear uncomfortable shoes in a rushed and stalled commute to the rat race in the big city. I smile that I am who I am and I don't have to pretend to be someone I am not. I don't have to prove myself anymore. I can just be me, in the moment.

Today, I give myself permission to relish being a stay at home mom who watches Dora and enjoys yelling at Swiper with my just two days away from being a three year old little girl. I give myself permission to enjoy folding a queen size over flowing mound of clean laundry today. And, I thank God for giving me this lot of my life today.

Entering a New Chapter of Motherhood

Yesterday, as the school psychologist left my home after reviewing Sarah's assessment with me, I realized that I was entering into a new chapter of motherhood.

My youngest daughter, Sarah will be turning three in March and will be phasing out of the 0 - 3 program that is government funded and has been providing therapy in our home two times a week. When a child turns three, there is a transition process that takes place so that another government funded agency can give proper services and therapy for the child to prepare him or her for school. And, after several hours of testing spread out into several sessions throughout the past couple of weeks, the 'professionals' have reported that my daughter will not be eligible for any services.

With one side of my heart I am relieved! I am thankful to know that we no longer need to have our weekly schedule spent doing therapy. I am also grateful that my daughter tested 'Superior' in language and cognitive skills. I mean, I should be proud, right? However, my concerns are honed in that along with those high results, she tested borderline and very low in social and emotional development. She also struggles with sensory issues as reported by the Occupational Therapist. This report only reiterates my original concerns for my child as I have lived this chapter of parenting several years ago with my oldest daughter, now age seven. My seven year old has Aspergers Syndrome, although, we didn't know that at the time. In fact, we just are learning about it as I key this post in.

Asperger Syndrome is such a tricky disorder that has taxed me as a mother. It has changed my life in ways that I could have never imagined. It has given me a mix of challenges and blessings. And, as I am still learning parent strategies to get through each day and learning to restructure my dreams for my oldest child's future, I now am seeing that both my daughters may be walking in the similar paths.

Life is all about choices. We chose what we will believe, how we will live and who we will be. Although I am tempted to chose to be a victim, befuddled, judged and in daily grief, I chose another window to look out from. I admit that there are days when I do glance from the darkened viewpoint and I am overrun with tears and isolation. I do let myself have healthy pity parties from time to time, I mean after all, it's only fair! I am hoping that the pity parties will occur less and less as I grow into my new role as a mother to children on the autism spectrum.

And, as I watch the psychologist leave my home on a Tuesday morning in February, I am thankful that I am able to process and condense my thoughts long enough to realize what are my challenges. And, I come up with a new mantra as I enter into a new chapter of motherhood:

I will accept the quirks of my children and the ignorance of others and find healthy coping strategies while maintaining an eternal vision.

More about this mantra in future posts...

Fitness Queen or Flatulence-Challenged Middle Aged Fat Housewife?

I went to play group today and a friend overheard me talking about various things like my recent spinning class and wiiFit attempts and she shouted above the toddler toy whistling bang bang toys, "Hey, I didn't realize you were such a fitness queen."

To which I replied, politely, smiling "Yeah, I have always been a workaholic work out person."

I wanted to say: Fat people can work out too ya know!


The past year, I have spent endless hours jogging, walking, elliptical, wiiFit, and yesterday I started my first spinning class. There were 25 bikes that were being used efficiently by 24 very fit teenaged girls, and well, me. As we were warming up, the perky size 1 instructor pointed directly at me and said into her Madonna concert mic, "Are you a first timer?"

To which I replied, politely, smiling "No, I have done spinning, just not at this gym."

I wanted to say: Just because I am middle aged and fat doesn't mean I don't enjoy cool work outs like SPINNING. In fact, I used to do spinning all the time before I was married with kids.

Then I pondered to myself: Was that really 80 pounds and a DECADE ago!


Can't this chubby middle aged housewife catch a break?

Another friend invited me to go with her to today's Pilate's class. I declined. Ever since I passed gas at the last Pilate's class I attended four years ago, I have been sort of shy to it! Am I the only flatulence-challenged middle aged chubby housewife who can't do Pilate's?

I support Autism Twitter Day! Will you?

Parenting two children on the spectrum, I have felt like a klutz since my first push during labor! Since spawning my first kiddo over seven years ago, I have been on a journey of motherhood unlike any other.

Although there are no manuals that can teach any mom how to parent their special child, caring for a child with special needs - specifically, a child on the autism spectrum can be especially surreal. Every day, the needs change. From the time my children were babies I have tried to figure it all out.

Now, after endless hours of research covering a variety of syndromes and disorders, I have feared the possibility along with the reality while parsing the relative information from stacks and stacks of professional recommendations and diagnoses covering Parenting, Strong-Willed Children, Autism, Fragile X, Asperger's, PDD-NOS, ADHD, Bi-Polar Spectrum, Gifted, Sensory Integration, Sensory Disorder, etc. My husband and I have had to change our career paths and life styles and have had to learn to budget our time and money so that we won't go into debt and/or divorce over the countless recommended interventions and therapies from brushing, diets, balls, vests, blankets, swings, social games and groups, squeezy thingies, bouncy doo higgies and artsy fartsy fun. Some of these items have applied for our needs at some of the times, but all of this has been overwhelming, border line new-age-voo-doo to us to say the least!

Then, there are the teachers, family and friends and foes who tell us that there is nothing wrong with our children and that we need to just be better parents. At times, I am tricked and confused by their comments. For whatever their personal reasonings, I have had to learn to desperately grip on to that teeny tiny motherly instinct that has not yet faded away and I think I am the only one who truly knows my daughters and their core needs!

I have earned infinite invisible degrees and badges of honor as a mom to a seven- and two year old on the spectrum and God still has much more to teach me. I love my kids. And I want to help them as best as I can by understanding their needs and educating others in our family and community. I look forward to joining in on the discussions that will be shared on the inaugural Autism Twitter Day!

Can you join us?

Autism Twitter Day, Tuesday, December 16, three times throughout the day, 9:00 a.m., noon, and 8:00 p.m. PST. Prizes for young adults with autism or asperger syndrome will be given away during these twitter sessions!

Whether your immediate family has been impacted by autism or if you know someone who has, you are welcome to participate. There is never a day off for the mothers, fathers, siblings and friends who support a person with autism. Here is a chance to gain support, understanding and resources that can help you navigate your life!

Come and join in on the discussions. A variety of topics will be shared on how to best handle those curve balls that the spectrum disorder tosses in to your daily life ranging from:

family dynamics,
from the bus to the classroom,
behavior,
variety of therapies,
special diets,
social skills,
independent living,
self care and hygiene.
bullying,
IEPs,
respite,
books, toys, etc. that have helped your family.

This includes sharing links to your sites and blog posts.

Hope to see your avatar there! Sweet Tweeting! Visit Autism Family Adventures to learn more about the event and to RSVP today!

Autism Family Adventures: RSVP for Autism Twitter Day

The Fortune Telling Map

What will the future hold?




Let's find out. This is a true story.


The first thing I learned is that I do not know my US geography like I should! You would think that watching endless hours of CNN polling and election results, I should know more. This puzzle boasts that it is for children 3 and up. Whew! I fit in to that category. And the findings are....




A. There will be a loss for the auto industry.
My tot is enjoying putting in the state icon pieces in their correct destinations, such as a palm tree in Florida, the Alamo in Texas, uh oh... seriously, there is NO car for Detroit! Either it didn't come in the box or we lost it. Could it be a sign of our future? Maybe I should call Congress and ask them to send me another one for free.

B. With the help from emerging innovation, there will be new discovery and solutions for the energy crisis.
Here my tot is trying to find new ways for energy. Innovation is the answer. Not long pipes under the ground up to Alaska. "Wind and Sun," spouts my toddler.

C. One pretty step for woman, one leap for humankind
Don't my toes look purty? Even if the bottoms are like Flinstone feet! I haven't given myself a pedi since summertime. I had a dream the other night that my toes were painted a cheerful red so in the morning, I got up and painted them. Self care is important or I wouldn't be able to report on these amazing prophesies readers! Red toes are the secret key to my success! And, there are additional topics to discuss on why and how my toes can look so pretty on the top, but be cracked and calloused on the bottom. Typical of motherhood, eh?

D. What will happen to Florida?
I have had a scar on my index finger since I was seven years old. I got it making Christmas candy. It is in the shape of the United States without Florida. I love Florida. I used to live there. I have vacationed there since my youth. But, I can only report on my findings and here is what I see! Take a look for yourself.




And that's all I can find for now. This is Crazy Jug reporting. And, now, back to you.

21st Day of a Sugar Free Diet

Three weeks ago, I started saying NO to white, processed sugar and foods pre-sweetened artificially with sugar. So far, I am not ready to completely cut other carbs such as fruits and starches, nor am I denying artificial sweeteners like Splenda and Sweet-n-Low. The way I see it, I am not on a path to die from Splenda. But if I don't change my ways, I will be on a fast track to death or diabetes by eating sugar for sure.

If you have read previous posts, you will have found that I have a life long eating disorder. Counting calories only makes me obsessive. I struggle to lose weight so that I can be healthy. I have made monumental changes in my life so that I can focus on self-care through eating healthy and exercise. Since making those changes over a year ago, I have been on a rather intense exercise regime and have tried restricting my food intake without being on a formal diet of one kind or another. However, after a year and a half, I have lost zero pounds- ZERO, ZILCH, NIL, much to my chagrin.

Realizing that sugar is only a friend to the egregious amounts of triglycerides, I've decided to make every attempt to make them both go away. Here is a quick review of my sugar free journey:


Day One "There's a tear in my beer."
Well, not beer in the morning, but I am crying over my coffee. Sadly, one of my top three favorite things is my cup of morning coffee. It is dear to me and I have enjoyed its rich, robust, creamy deliciousness for two decades. Today, my darling husband brings me a cup of Joe, sweetened with Splenda. Oh, I will miss you coffee with cream and sugar!

Day Two Withdrawal Symptom: Migraine
Achy and irritable, I realize that I am having sugar withdrawal. I also am feeling very hungry. I wrote this post just for fun and from the passion, love and lust I had for the powdery glistening poison. I also start telling every one I know about what I am doing and tweeting about it because I am obviously obsessed with my loss.

Day Three Encouraging Comments
Amazed at the support from Twitterville to the Blogosphere, I feel like I have some accountability if not just an outlet for my obsession. My Aussie friend, Lilly from Lilly's Life made this comment to me:

"I think we have to convince ourselves that sugar is poison. What I never get is I treat my car better than I treat myself and there is no way I would put sugar in my car. I mean logically it does about as much damage to us as it would to our cars... Tomorrow is another day! Its poison ok?"

Day Seven Excuses Excuses!
I cheated! But, the dog who ate my homework made me do it. No seriously I did eat sweets out of forgetfulness and old habits. See, we were taking a family road trip and we went through a drive through for a mid-drive ice cream treat. Husband ordered a round of ice cream cones and I of course did not think twice about it. I was licking my third or fourth bite when I realized that I wasn't supposed to be eating sugar. I decided to just laugh it off and enjoy the rest of the cone. I also caught myself taking a bite of the family-shared cheesecake after dinner that night. Oops. Not going to beat myself up over it! Little did I know....

Day Eight Detox. Again.
Ouch. Headache, body ache, stomachache all came back for a revisit. Must detoxify - AGAIN.

Day Ten I Can See Clearly Now the Rain is Gone
Feeling ecstatic, almost euphoric. Have more energy and can organize my thoughts better. Decided to vacuum just because one day! Not needing naps in the mid-afternoon. I love this new found freedom from the sugar cravings!

Day Eleven I Like to Move It Move It.
Bowels are in full swing again. Not sure if it is because I am starting to try to fill myself with more healthier foods that are fibrous or if my body is just more relaxed and not trying to "put out the sugar fires" in my system. I start having more relaxed and healthy bowel movements.

Today is Day 21 of my Sugar Free Diet.
I have more energy, more confidence, more clarity. And with these new benefits, I am finding that it is easier to make healthier foods for my meals and snacks. I take the time to do self-care. For example, one day for lunch, I actually made myself an omelet with swiss, ham, tomatoes and asparagus. I am enjoying my foods more now that I don't crave sweets any more. I also am in touch with hunger and fullness, a sensation that took the back seat while my sugar and sweet cravings dominated my stomach.

I think the level of exercise doesn't have to be as intense as I was doing before. Now, I have been enjoying my wiiFit for less than 30 minutes and I feel the benefits. When I was mixing sugar with my previous exercise, I felt like I needed to run two or three miles before my body would respond in a fat burning manner. Most of this is total speculation, but I do feel like my body is running better than it did when I ate sugar from my morning coffee and cereal, to my afternoon chocolate fix to desserts with dinner and my night time chocolate obsession.

Even greater news is that I have lost seven pounds. Because of this weight loss, I now have more hope that I may have found a diet that works for my body better.

To be continued...

What Do I Want?

I went to the movies with a couple of girl friends last night to watch The Women starring Meg Ryan and many many women stars. In fact there isn't a man in one scene of the entire movie.

There were layers of interesting themes ranging from marriage struggles, mother and daughter bonding, friendships, relationships, careers, pop culture, party ideas, etc., it would have made a perfect blog all in itself! The characters were richly developed given the full spectrum of issues revealed. There was one main theme that I found most intriguing and inspiring: WHAT DO I WANT?

Meg Ryan played Mary, the perfect one. No doubt her character's name was to reflect the ideal Biblical mother of God, Mary. Her only character flaw was that she did nothing for herself. She always lived her life for others. In the midst of hosting a ladies luncheon in her home, she sat around with her lady friends and commented that she was contemplating on having another baby. She just thought that is what she was supposed to do. She thought she only wanted one child, but maybe she wants another. She knew there was a void in her soul, she thought she was supposed to fulfill it by bearing a child. But, fate won over and she finally fell into a season in her life when she was forced to reflect on who she was and who was she to become.

She did everything for everyone else though she was given zero respect. Her husband cheated on her, her daughter couldn't connect with her and her best friend even sold her out. It had to take gut-wrenching betrayal by these people who she loved the most to finally force her to stop and meditate on what she really wanted. She made a wall of everything that inspired her to help her find out what it was she wanted.

I am going to stop blogging now. I want to make a similar shrine for myself. This past year, so much has changed for me. I don't know if the bottom fell out from beneath my feet, or if I am just on a higher ground, ready to redefine my dreams, my goals, what I want.

Stay tuned for future posts when I share with you my revelations. I encourage you too to dwell on this question. Love yourself enough to know what you want! Dream again.

Two Bags and Now I'm Nurse Hag!

This week has been charred with a few out of body experiences. Can you relate with those stressful times in your life when the room fades into surreal and all you can hear is your heart pounding. It is like you can only understand because you are watching the scene from the outside - kind of like you are sitting in your own living room watching the stressful moment of your own life unfold on a TV screen. You can barely concentrate on what others are saying to you because you are just trying to absorb the tears that are swelling up in your eyes. You know that if the tear falls onto your cheek, it will give you permission to let the floodgates pour.

That is what it was like for me as my very own drama aired two times and both incidents happened to be from a doctor's office.

The first scene I watched was of my darling husband, Fred. He was sitting in a pre-op room with his blue bonnet, booties and hospital gown. His eyes looked at me like a scared little boy as the IV cord dangled from his strong forearm. I tried to listen and not fall apart as the nurse had him sign all sorts of paperwork basically starting with, "In case something should happen..."

I couldn't imagine something happening to my husband. From the 15 years we have been together, he has practically never even been sick! I on the other hand, get sick each month with PMS and also am plagued with migraines periodically, not to mention my inability to manage stress appropriately so I physically can feel every bump in the road on my life's journey. Oh, and I occasionally am a hypercondriac too! Most of the time when I am starting to feel a little edgy, my husband is helpful. He takes care of the kids and gives me my space. He also encourages me to take the time for self care so that I don't get too uptight emotionally and physically. Yes, my husband is a pretty great blue ribbon guy. There are times when I feel guilty leaving him with the kids to get bathed and ready for bed while I go out for a jog or a walk with a friend. But then he gives me unlimited stack of "Get Out of Guilt-Free Cards" and let's me go on my own way. He understands how I tick and I am so grateful for him.

To sit in the visitor seat and watch my strong husband have to be the patient was so difficult for me. I wanted to be strong, stable and spoil him into recovery as soon as his urological surgery was finished. And, within a couple of hours, he was ready for me to pull the car around as the nurse helped him walk to the passenger seat. He was holding two bags, one with his extra clothes that I sent along with him and another bag for his catheter that he would become very close with for the next few days.

Although he was on some 'mechanical-strength' pain killer, he was extra sensitive to every bump on the very long drive home. About two hours and 2,000 bumps later we arrived home, he went straight up to bed. He slept for about four days. I would prepare his meals and take them on a silver tray up to him in bed. I would also make sure I was there with him as he'd stumble to the bathroom to empty his bag filled with yellow liquid. Along with playing nurse, I knew that one of his "love languages" was the act of doing things for him. And, I knew that he appreciated a tidy house so I tried my hardest to keep the house in order.

The more I tried to stay on top of the cleaning, the cooking the serving, the more impatient I grew. I admittedly was enjoying caring for him and the house and family but I was so used to Fred taking care of a lot of the chores like the garbage and sharing with the laundry and dishes and cooking. To not have him around was like having one of my arms cut off. As hard as I tried to keep it all together, my nerves were frazzled like Bob Marley's dreadlocks in an electric socket. I couldn't control my temper!

So, how do other wives handle this stress? I was out of control. All I could do is yell and scream at everyone around me. I am so ashamed on how I lashed out on everyone. I had no time for reprieve. I was lacking in sleep and self care and my darling husband and two sweet daughters who are also high maintenance got the best of me by 7:00 a.m. and after that, they all got the worst of me each day for four days.

Who did I become? Where was the person I wanted to be? I didn't sign up for this trashy unraveled tantrum tizzy I had turned into. I was starting to think I was more like my bipolar mother. The more I would try to control and manage my stress, the more stressed out I would get and lash out. I also realized that my daughter Sienna, who is also diagnosed with bipolar along with ADHD and PDD-NOS struggles with similar inter-personal conflict herself. It is times like these when I can better understand her. I always tell her, "You have choices to make Sienna. You can choose to throw those fits and deal with the consequences, or you can walk away, count to ten, do something that will help you relax... BLAH BLAH BLAH."

If someone were to confront ME during these past four days and lecture me like that. I would have told them to go away and COUNT MY FRICKIN ACE! (my frickin ace is a fancy word for my gosh darn behind!) And I would have probably growled at them or thrown something at them. Who knows? No one would have dared lectured me this past week. I was like a shark who just sensed blood and was ready to attack, like Bruce the Great White shark in Finding Nemo. He really wanted to overcome his addiction to eating fish but he just couldn't help being who he was. Interesting discovery... hmmm.... (I just realized this discovery through my blog writing. This helps me to accept my daughter more and more! I struggle with this sometimes. I want to change her make her conform too much of the time.)

Today is Monday. My husband is finally on his feet and back to work. He still has the catheter in but I think I am feeling a little more myself and less Nurse Cratchett.

Throughout all of this chaos, my toddler daughter has been getting over a flu with lots of green river snot to wipe and dirty diarrhea diapers to change. Good times.

The other out of body experience that I discovered as the drama unfolded in the doctor's office was about my six year old daughter. I will share in tomorrow's post...

Another Weighty Issue

Since I could remember, after every birthday ritual of blowing out the candles or tossing a penny into a fountain or blowing a fallen eyelash or ladybug or wishing upon the first star I would close my eyes and combine my wish with a prayer. I would say, "God, I wish to be thin."

With all of the struggles I have on my plate, the fiercest of all conflicts is the one that I have been fighting with on a daily basis my entire life. That is my weight. You may recall reading my post titled, Confessions of a Second Grade Closet Eater,

where I discuss my life since the age of eight, and how food was always a battle for me and accepting my body as is has always been a struggle for me. I have always denied my real hungers to the point that I find it difficult to recognize it anymore. I have tried so many different diet strategies that my body has finally decided not to play with me. Like playing tic tac toe, there comes a time when no one wins and it just isn't worth the time or devotion to play. 

Five years ago, my daughter Sienna turned two. Right after celebrating her birthday, the fanfare and family left to go home, Sienna went to bed and I sat on the couch with my husband, Fred. I was tired but most of all, I was sad. When I was two, my parents divorced. I thought about how tender and sensitive of an age my daughter was in and I couldn't imagine leaving her. How then could my parents have split me in half, my life and my heart at the tender age of two? I felt so much sadness about this, that I slipped into an emotional coma. This depression was too great for us to handle alone and Fred and I decided that I should get some intensive therapy, once and for all we thought. 

It was also at this time that I had been trying to diet and get healthy. It had been two years since I was pregnant and no matter how much I denied foods and increased exercise, I could not get below 200 lb, let alone 230 lb! I was even following a new diet based on fasting and praying that I was learning from an extremist view about fasting from Stormie Omartian in a book titled, The Power of a Praying Woman. 

I became very dedicated to this methodology. Earlier that year, I fasted for three days. I didn't eat any thing in hopes that God would hear my cry and help me to lose weight. In fact, I didn't pray and dedicate my fasting to be self serving alone, there were other prayers and petitions I offered to God during this time too. But, at the core of my desires was the need to lose weight. For I believed that if I were thinner, all my problems would be solved. I now look back and cannot believe how immature my mind set was then. And, by the way, that three day fasting fiasco left me with a week long migraine and a dark night of severe body convulsions and throwing up. I do not recommend this exercise, nor do I believe many professionals would recommend anyone to try it either.

We then decided that I should take a brief leave of absence and take some time for myself at a nearby out patient clinic. This was a Christian clinic that helped others with depression. During that time, I learned that I was struggling with a lot of loss. My daughter at the age of two would not engage with me and was so difficult that I had decided earlier to put her into day care and go back to work full time. Also, my mother had been so challenging and disrespectful towards Fred and me that under the recommendation of my small group from church, I had to place some boundaries. These boundaries led to another period of estrangement with my mother. I was at a point in my life that I was not able to bond with my daughter or have a relationship with my own mother and I was so depressed that I wanted to just drool sometimes. I also had a secret death wish and would try to drown myself with Big Macs and fries chased by Snicker bars and Cokes. I had ballooned to a 250 lb wearing the same sweatshirt every day that was a size 3X. My daily drives to the clinic lasted for four weeks. Afterwards, I still met with therapists and took medication but I had gained so much insight about how to manage my life and cope with stress.

One major stress in my life that I learned through my time there at the clinic was that I had a life long eating disorder. I didn't think I was "good enough" to be a successful anorexic or bulimic. I joined support groups for this and met with a nutritional therapist weekly for a little bit over a year or so. During my therapy sessions with Iris, she would instruct me to eat, or refuel my body every three to four hours with whatever food I wanted. I needed to stop giving certain foods power by labeling some foods good and some bad. Moreover, she instructed me to learn to love my body. She once asked me, "Who do you think you are? God created your body to be just as it is and you are always trying to reshape it and recreate it. Maybe God created you to be a larger woman. What is so wrong with that?"

Every week, I would talk to her about how difficult it was to find clothes that fit me. She would tell me about her very tall husband who also had difficulty. I would tell her about the stress of my business and travel and how challenging it was for me to eat in public. She would help me through every case scenario. She would weigh me in every session but would not allow me to see the results. I was able to get down to 230 lb not dieting through restricting my eating or adding exercise, just by trying to trust my body and love it. 

I eventually stopped seeing Iris when I discovered that I was pregnant with Sarah. I also decided that I had a deeper desire to be successful in my career and she recommended that I see a business coach to help me build my company and career instead of meeting to talk about my weight. It has been about three years since meeting with Iris. So much has happened with my career since then, and with Sarah and Sienna and with all of our lives. One of the reasons we made the decision to move to a rural midwestern town was to simplify our lives so I could be a better mommy to our girls. Also so I could give myself the self care necessary so that I would not end up dying like my mother did at the young age of 62. 

Now, I struggle with my weight. Not so much because of the superficial reasons that kept my weight such a struggle from age eight to early 30s. I now struggle because I have been running, walking, bike riding and being very active. I try to eat healthy foods. And, with the increased activity levels since moving here 18 months ago, I find myself with an enlarging tummy, looking as if I am pregnant. I am trying to figure out how to get healthy with out struggling with diets and the slippery slope of obsession that spirals me into yo yo dieting. 

I think I will schedule to visit a doctor about this. I fear that he will just put me on a strict diet though and it will awaken that diet monster that has been hibernating for the past five years!

A Do Run Run Run and Do Run Run

I went for a run yesterday. The first run in about one month. I was feeling extra motivated for a solid workout after watching the premier night of Biggest Loser the night before.

Here were some of the thoughts that I had during my run:

- Five minutes after my walking warm up, I knew it was time to start running I felt scared and afraid I wouldn't be able to actually run. I told myself, right at this corner, I will run. And I did.

- Two minutes into my run, I thought, "This isn't so bad. I actually like this!"

- Five minutes into my run, I thought, "Wow, I have been running for five minutes, I didn't think I would last this long without having to slow my pace down to to a walk!"

- Six minutes into my run, I thought, "Where in the heck did this play list on my Shuffle come from? I don't recall downloading so many naughty, booty smacking songs! And, is Snoop Dogg the Anti Christ?"

- Eight minutes into my run I started to lengthen my stride and hold my head higher. I also enjoyed Gwen Steffani, "B-A-N-A-N-A-S!"

- Twelve minutes into my run, I thought, "Bummer, I haven't seen any cars or people out to see my run. Why am I so motivated by what others think of me?"

- Fourteen minutes into my run, "If I could just keep this pace up until we pass Bonnie's house, maybe she will see me run and think I am disciplined and fit."

- Sixteen minutes into my run, "Wow, that sunset is gorgeous. The lake looks so peaceful. I can't wait to stretch and breathe in some peace like that into my body."

- Eighteen minutes into my work out, "My run will be done soon, but I want to keep running. I am loving this!"

- Nineteen minutes into my work out, "I hope some people in these store fronts and restaurants see me run and envy me. I hope my bust and belly look flattering and not fattening!"

- Twenty two minutes into my run, "Cool, there is a town meeting at the fire station and the garage door is open. I must really lengthen my stride and look like this is a piece of cake. Ahhh. Why did I eat those two candy bars today?"

- Twenty four minutes into my run, "At the next street corner, I slow down to a walk. I can make it..."

- Twenty five minutes, I ran, feeling re-energized, strong, healthy and re-vitalized. I walked home, stretched, showered, drank 3 large ice waters and laid on top of my bed while Fred and I watched our Netflix, "Mad Men, Season 1." Every once in a while, Fred would rub the arches of my feet or my back. He is so wonderful!

Life is good!

Facelift and Poser Poster

So, I told you I would be provocative and honest in this blog. And, since, the true me is superficial in the flesh, I thought it was only a matter of time until the true superficial "me" would reflect itself onto my blog.

Although I write from the true pains and turmoil of my heart, I still on the outside appear to be smiling. I want so much for others to be attracted to me and want to like me. So, I say hello, I smile, I shower, of course. I just don't know where to draw the line from being myself to trying to be what others want me to be.

And, here I sit, a newbie in the blogosphere. Still wanting others to be attracted to my blog. I found myself even 'dropping' by to smile and say hello in hopes they might come over to my blog and like me too. I even spent a lot of time and energy redesigning my Entrecard and banner to my blog. And, just like me in the flesh, my body and my blog are a work in progress. Neither will ever look as perfect as I'd dream them to, no matter how much I work at them!

My therapist says that I need to work on not worrying what others think of me. He explains to me that there is a spectrum of people. There are those who on one side live and make every decision solely based on what others may think. He nods to me, "And that's you. You are on this side of the spectrum." Then, he continues, "There are others who don't care what people think. They are rude and insensitive. They even give up their rights as parents because they don't care about what anyone thinks."

Why do I care what others think of me so much?

I do know that all that caring and worrying is wasted energy. I come home tired after being around people. If our kids are loud in public, I feel badly for the parents who look stressed from the noises - even if it was during a birthday party and the hostess gave my kids noise-makers. Come on! If your kids can't make noises with noise makers at a birthday party, when can they? If there is a new person in town and I don't reach out the her and put on my friendly welcome mat-like smile, then I feel bad for them. I feel like I should bring them homemade cookies and ask them questions about themselves. I am so made to do that. How can I change that? Why can't I just not care? I need to be more towards the rude and insensitive side of the spectrum, I suppose.

God, please help me to not care! Huh?

As I sign off for now, I leave you with this quote from the famous Popeye:
I am who I yam and that's all I yam. I even eat spinach ONLY when people are watching me so I can 'look' like I am a healthy eater. I really don't even like spinach. I am such a poser!

My Plan VS. God's Plan

We had Sienna (now age 6.5), moved to far west side of the Chicago and bought our first house. Lived there for a couple of years. I started freelancing and that grew into a consultancy, which meant the same thing, I was just able to charge more and feel more important about myself. I had offices all over the place, from the 83rd floor in the Sears Tower to a cubicle in Oak Brook. I enjoyed traveling for business and went to DC, San Diego, Las Vegas, and New Jersey frequently. I was very ambitious and felt more in control of my career than in motherhood. Sienna was in day care and Fred started working at Elmhurst HS. We then moved to Oak Park and Sienna has having a lot of troubles in school(s). So, we had to have her assessed and she received special services to help her with her behavior and sensory issues.

While Fred and I celebrated our 5th anniversary in Aruba, we got pregnant with Sarah. I was scheduled to develop a large trade show exhibit during my pregnancy and when she was 6 weeks, I brought her along with me to Toronto. I was absorbed with being successful and thought that God had a plan for me to grow my business and help other women, especially my own daughters as they grew older, flourish in corporate America. I had a corporate board of directors and we met monthly to help meet my business objectives.

Little did I know that God had another plan for my life. Last January, my mother called me from ER AGAIN. You may remember that she had a lot of issues. One of the most annoying was that she was a hypochondriac. She had checked herself into ER on a monthly basis and this time seemed to me like just the same as the other times. However, an ER nurse called me one Sunday morning while we were at church. We started attending Willow Chicago, one of Willow Creek's satellite churches that met in the loop in an old theater. The nurse told me that due to my mom's diabetes and other ailments that she is having difficulty healing from a bad case of pneumonia and it is possible that they may have to put her on a ventilator. After talking with Fred, we decided that I would take a trip, once and for all, to see just how severe this particular drama trauma really was. Five hours later, while driving down to Cincinnati, she had been placed on a ventilator and was in an induced coma. She finally passed away about 6 weeks later after I convinced my stepdad that she wasn't going to get any better.

During these 6 weeks, I spent a lot of time in the hospital with them. I didn't realize it, but my value system was really being challenged and turned upside down. I reevaluated the quality of life, motherhood and self care. I no longer thought about the new patterns on this season's Coach bags. One evening, after we met in Cincinnati to turn off the ventilator, I had about 20 voice mail messages. Some of the messages were from clients who knew where I was and what I was doing on that day yet they still thought their needs somehow took priority over mine on this dark day. I told Fred that I needed a break and didn't want to return to work for a while. Being the boss of your own agency does not allow for any sick days and there are certainly no days available for bereavement.

There were also no days available for childcare issues. And it seemed that I got weekly phone calls from Savana's preschool about her behavior. As one discussion was said, "She is a danger to herself and other students around her. We need you to pick her up." Another presentation to a team of directors at a Fortune 500 that I had spent months pursuing - cancelled. Vaporized just like that! I just couldn't keep up with the pace of my career. I slowly watched it fade away in the distance behind me. As I pursued my exit strategy, Fred and I decided that I would stay at home with the girls. We were paying over $1000 a month in childcare and we would still need to downsize and move to be able to live on his teacher salary alone. So, we sold our gorgeous home in Oak Park and moved to rural Ohio into a house in Laketown.

During this transition, before we made the big move, I thought I would tap into the rich medical metropolitan resources to see why Sienna was having so much difficulty. Through this time, we received a diagnosis of ADHD and Sensory Integration. After we moved to Ohio, we then got a diagnosis on the Autism Spectrum which is probable Asperger's. Our youngest daughter, Sarah is only two now and is also experiencing very similar sensory challenges.

Our lives have changed so much in the past year. One of the million things I have learned through this chapter of our lives is that you cannot predict or control your life, you can only manage how you respond to it.