Weight Loss Coaching


I don’t know what I’ve done! I’ve signed up for 6 weeks of weight loss coaching. My friend looks amazing and she said it really helped how she looks at food. I figured nothing else has worked for me so let me give it a try. Today was my first session. We talked about me having too much on my plate, figuratively and literally.

She wants me to keep a food diary for the next few days and try and cut out sugar (she said flour, too, but let’s not get crazy. A girl needs to live.) I am doing the intermittent fasting and only eating between 12-8.  She asked me to try to keep it to two meals with no snacking. Say what??? I was working on eating carrots and celery for snacking and keeping the cookies to two a day. This could be tough.

But, I need to try. So…I need stop thinking about any kind of enjoyment from food (HAHA) and just think about it as something I need to live. I’m sure that’ll work. I also started a meditation series, actually two. One on mindful eating and one on cravings. I kind of like those. They make me happy. It’s all about recognizing when you are having cravings, but not acting quickly on them. Accepting that yes, I’d love 24 cannoli right now, but that might not be the best decision.

So here I am. I’m starting a food diary tomorrow. I’m a little afraid I’ll fail at something again, but what I noticed in speaking with her was that I’m sad. She asked why I wanted to put my energy into this goal and I said that I wanted to cry when I see myself in a mirror. I mean, I’m okay when I do my hair, but when I see a photo or a full-length mirror I want to cry.

I think I might be sad in more aspects of my life than I realized. I never expected that I’d have an autoimmune disease. Heck, I never thought twice about have one. I was teaching many step and conditioning classes each week. I need to turn this around. But then I think, I’ve said this before…a lot. And it hasn’t happened. I need to make this happen. For me. I want to be happier.

Wish me luck. I’m going to have to write down birthday cake in that damn diary. My daughter’s birthday is next Tuesday and we are celebrating with my family on Sunday. One day of sugar a week is what I’m telling myself is okay. Because come on. To say that I’m never going to eat sugar again is stupid. I’ll fail at that.



Bloodwork Is a Mess Again


I haven’t blogged in a while because I suck. But, mostly because I work too much. I have a super fun new job where I get to write about all sorts of things for an education company. I absolutely love it, but it doesn’t leave a lot of time for me to do other things.

I did go to my rheumatologist a week ago and had blood work. My kidney function is once again off. My doctor told me this is my norm and that it has happened a few times and then goes back to normal. I need to stay more hydrated and take as little Alleve as I can. I’ve been soooo much better with the Alleve. And, there are days where I’m freakin amazing with my water drinking. Then there are days like today where I’m pretty sure I only had one glass of water! I need one of those light up water bottles, but instead of just lighting up, I need it to flat out yell at me!

So, I have until the beginning of April to fix it. I’m also trying to drop 10-15 pounds by then. I can’t stand looking at myself anymore. I’ve been doing yoga a few times a week and I really like it. I’m just doing videos at home. With three kids in all sorts of activities, it’s what I can fit in right now, and it’s a tough workout. That’s all I care about.

So there are goals. There are cut up vegetables and protein balls in the refrigerator. I’m off to a good start. But then there is stress…did I mention we are renovating a bathroom? I may lose my mind before the end of the week and it’s absolutely freezing out so I’m going to do the math for you. Freezing temps + open walls and ceilings = my cats coming into the bedroom and dropping a dead mouse on my purse this morning. They were so proud until I screamed like a maniac and dropped all sorts of f bombs. My daughters didn’t know what was going on. HAHA! It was not the best start to a day!

With the freezing temps also comes stiff joints and RA pain. My hands have the worst of it. I’ve been doing a project for a book and I’m sending a million emails. My pointer finger just locked up last night. It was very painful. It comes with the territory of winter. It could be worse. I think it’s Michigan or Missouri that it’s like -30. I’m trying not to complain with 10 degrees. (Okay, I’m complaining, but I feel awful for anyone that’s in those frigid temps!).

The wonderful update is after 6 years of denying me, my insurance finally approved my migraine medicine. My doctor’s office appealed it (again) saying I tried three different meds and nothing worked. It took weeks, but I got 10 pills of Maxalt, the only thing that’s ever worked for me. December was hellish with migraines. I had one Christmas and was in bed the entire next day, then had another two-day migraine a few days later. All I’ve been doing is ice. I’m so happy to be able to take something again. Praying it still works as well as it did.

So that’s my update for now. I still need to lose weight. Still not feeling overly pretty. Still have RA and I’m really hoping not to have kidney issues. More soon!



When Your Friend Is an Asshole


So I had an argument with a friend about two weeks ago. It shouldn’t have been an argument, so I was caught off-guard. You see, my friend used the word “retard” in a text. I simply said that the word is really offensive. He said it was just a word and that he had no intention of not using it. So, I said that I respectfully asked for him to not use it around me.

It was around then that he lost his mind saying I let a word have too much power over me and I’m a snowflake. I believe I’m also a few other things. I could go back and look or maybe they’ll come to me as I write. The point is, he wouldn’t let it go. He said I should respect his right to use the word.

I said, great could you just not use it to me? Is it that important of a word to you, that you need to use it to me? Apparently, it IS that important to him. He said, “I want to use that word and you are asking me to censor my feelings.”

I stopped responding which was when he started in with calling me immature for being angry over a word and that I allow a word to have power over me. When I stop acting like a child, let him know. You get the idea. I wrote back that I respect myself enough to know when to walk away from a situation and that’s the last thing I said.

So why am I writing about it now? Honestly, it bothered me a LOT that night. Not the loss of the friendship so much. This person has drifted in and out of my life at his convenience. I wish him nothing but the best. I was upset that any person felt so strongly for their “right” to use a word that’s so hurtful to others. Like they need to use it. They have some sort of point to prove and that point was worth a friendship. It’s kind of sad, yet kind of interesting. People are odd.

Listen, I know there are racist people, prejudice people, unkind people, etc. I’m not naive. But usually, these people deny the fact that they are such things. I guess what I can say is he doesn’t pretend to be something he is not. But, I definitely don’t need to be around it.


Hitting an Emotional Wall



It’s been a really long time since I have written a blog. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I have written a few and then deleted them because I thought they sucked or I thought I’d get myself into trouble for saying too much.

I don’t handle loss well. I mean, who really does? But I don’t feel emotionally equipped to handle another big loss in my life. I lost my mom when I was 14. I lost my grandmother, whom I was extremely close with when I was in my early thirties. I lost my step-father two years ago next month. I wasn’t expecting that loss. We didn’t know he was that sick. I think he didn’t want us to see him that sick and they also didn’t realize it was that bad. I saw him for the last real time, and knew he wasn’t going to be with us much longer. I was glad we had the chance to talk and I could tell him how much he meant to me. You see…he didn’t have to stay in my life after my mom died.  Years later he went on and married again and they didn’t need to include my brother in and I in their lives. But they did. Not once were we ever treated like we were anything less than his kids. I maintain a good relationship with his wife now. She’s one of the loveliest people you could know.

So that hit me like a ton of bricks. I realized it was not only losing him as a person, it was losing one more link to my mom. Right now my step-mother’s cancer has returned. I get so much anxiety that I don’t know how to ask. I’m afraid I’m going to react terribly and make things worse. I asked my dad tonight when he came to a cheer event for my daughter and he said the cancer is growing and they either want her to do chemo again, or a study at Yale, or both. I know it’s not good.

She hasn’t been coming to a lot of things because she’s not feeling great. I don’t know what to say. We’ve not always had an easy relationship. In fact, I’d classify the teen years as horrendous. But we’ve grown closer as I’ve gotten older. She’s a wonderful grandmother to my kids and someone that I can count on. She’s that person that when you’re really sick, you want them to take you to the ER because you know ou husband will just annoy you, LOL.

So as I sit here in tears I’m asking myself how does someone truly prepare to lose a loved one. I don’t think you can. I think the answer is to spend as much time as you can with them. Have those quality moments. But the bottom line is, I’ll never be ready to say goodbye.


Pain…On Purpose


I’ve been feeling ugly a lot lately. Every time I see a photo I either cry that I’m fat or ugly. My smile has been getting to me. I had braces when I was a teen but I hadn’t worn a retainer since I graduated high school and everything shifted, especially in the last 15 years. I’ve been embarrassed. So I decided I’d do something about it.

I tried ordering one of those Smile Direct kits and was very excited as I did the molds and sent them back. Then they said I needed to do more. Then again. Then again. Then they said I couldn’t do any more and I needed to go to a “Smile Center” but there isn’t one anywhere close to me. Also within that time I panicked after reading reports that things can go wrong without an orthodontist checking your teeth.

I decided a higher power was telling me that since it wasn’t working out, I should try to do Invisalign through the orthodontist. They gave me a good price since my kids already go there and I decided I do this for myself. I was a little put off though yesterday to learn that I needed to have things stuck to my teeth for the liners to cling to. I was kind of hoping when I took them off it wouldn’t be noticeable. Again…going back to being embarrassed. But here I am. I’m all in.

It’s day 2. My gums hurt like freakin hell from the edge of the aligners. My teeth are sore, but the good news is every now and then I can take them out and have a break. They are supposed to be on for like 22 hours a day. The girl at the orthodontist said she wears hers for about 20. I’m shooting for 21. She promised me if I stuck it out the first week it would get easier. Lord, I hope she’s right. I hate having any kind of sore in my mouth and the inside of my cheek is cut and my gum. It hurts.

I guess it will be worth it in a year. I will keep reminding myself that I’m doing this for me. I just now need to stop eating like a pig and lose weight for me. I just have a lot of my mind and I’m eating from stress.

I applied for a writing job on Tuesday and had to do a 1.5 hour test, writing an article at am 8th grade level and then modifying it to 3rd grade level. Then they had me do an editing sample. It was a lot of 1.5 hours. I think I did okay but would have done a lot better with 2 hours.

So far for the last two night I have dreamt that I did not get it. Actually the first night I dreamt that someone else didn’t get the job and I was sad for them. Last night I dreamt that I go an email that I didn’t get it. So I’m less confident. It would be a really fun job to have though and it’s 20 hours a week.

In the meantime, I’m still applying. My book job is done on June 15th and I’m trying to line something else up. I feel like I want to write more than edit, which is different for me. The last job writing for the educational company really was so much fun. I found that I enjoyed the revision process and making it better.

I just need a chance. The woman that I do the books for is tough. Last year was not stellar and I accept responsibility for that. I was dealing with the fact that I might have breast cancer and trying to proof the book by myself because they cut my budget so much. I’m not sure they really understand the amount of work it takes to do these books. It’s tough to do with the current budget but it’s kind of a catch 22. I know I’m worth so much more. I know they don’t have anyone who knows how to do the database. I don’t think anyone would do it for that price. Yet, I don’t want to lose the work.

Is this why women get paid less? We don’t want to lose work we like? We would rather keep work that makes us happy than ask for more money and fear losing it altogether? I have tough many times about handing the files back in June and saying, if you’re interested in doing the next edition with me, let’s talk early because I have other projects I’m working on and will need to see if I can fit it in. I need them to know I have choices and then can say, it’s not enough. But I need to actually HAVE choices.

It’s not difficult work, though. I enjoy it and it’s very flexible. This is why I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. I’d welcome any advice because I’ve been stuck here for the past 3 years unable to make a decision. Help!!


Parenting Dreams


All parents have dreams for their child. Mine started when I was pregnant. We didn’t find out the gender with my first baby (my son), but when I was pregnant for the second time I knew I was having a girl. Immediately the hopes and dreams of dance recitals, braiding hair, and dress up filled my head.

While I have experienced all those things by now, I’ve also been a football mom, a baseball mom, and now a gold team mom. There’s nothing more exciting, thrilling, and sometimes heartbreaking than to see you child participate in a sport or activity. With my son the up and downs have been over play time on the field and kids being assholes. With my first daughter the ups and downs have included seeing her perform solos (something I never thought she’d ever do) and several lows when she didn’t get roles that she has wanted in Nutcracker.

My youngest daughter took a while to find her “thing.” I think she naturally did dance because her older sister did. She likes dance, but when she tried gymnastics it was clear that is where he heart was. It’s been an exciting ride.

I’m proud of all of them for different reasons. Both my girls chose to step out of their comfort zones and switch studios/gyms to further their training. My son has worked really hard to be a better player and went into his freshman football season confident in his game. Unfortunately, when you have a parent of twins as a coach, and one of the twins plays the same position as your son, we learned it just doesn’t matter how well you play. Sometimes you aren’t getting that playtime and it’s not always fair.

While this made for a difficult and emotional first season, I’m proud of my son for not giving up, even when some of his teammates were complete assholes. Since my son was beating the “twin” out in practice, that boy’s friends did whatever they could to knock my son down. Definitely a tough lesson but a good life lesson. Bosses aren’t always fair. Teachers aren’t always fair, and yes, coaches aren’t always fair.

So why am I telling you all of this? Because I don’t want to be the pushy sports mom. None of my kids have even been a huge standout in their activities. My older daughter is a beautiful dancer, but there are many beautiful dancers on her team. My youngest thinks gymnastics is life, but there are a lot of girls in her group that don’t have the fear that I sometimes see in my daughter.

It’s really hard to know what to do in these situations. With my son and football, it was everything I could do to reign in my anger and not want to punch some 14 year old. I made a decision to let him handle the issue on his own as much as possible but it was so freakin hard to have your child get in the car in tears that the whole team hates him. Did the whole team hate him? I’m sure not. But at the time he felt like he didn’t have any allies.

It’s hard for me to sit and watch my older daughter on stage for a solo. I spend the whole time praying. Praying she doesn’t fall; praying she lands her turns, etc. I thought it would get easier as the season went on, but it didn’t.

With my youngest, I think I need to pretend I’m not nervous for a meet. She took the year off competing after switching gyms and recently just started on a competitive team again two weeks ago.

I think I was always aware that there would be stress parenting tweens and teens. It’s a whole different world from the stress of having three kids under the age of 4. I realize it’s a bit ridiculous that I’m stressing out over my kids’ activities and it’s something I want to change. It’s hard. I’m emotional and I just want my kids to be happy. They don’t need to be the best, but they need to do their best. I’ve learned that I’m not calm when my kid isn’t being treated well by a coach or teacher, but I’ve also made a conscious effort to take a step back.

Parenting is freakin hard. My son is finally having some happiness with sports on the high school golf team. He’s a really good golfer and it’s nice to be recognized for his talent. I think his most exciting moment so far was when a junior asked him (a freshman) to help him with his golf game. My son was so excited to help someone else and that the kid even would ask him. It was that type of complement he’s been missing in his sports.

As the seasons are all winding down and before they start up again in September, I’m trying to remind myself that it’s not about me. I can’t fix it. I can’t change it. I can just encourage my  kids to do their best.

So how do you deal with the parents who think their child is going to the Yankees or the Giants? Smile. I’m telling myself just to smile. Perhaps they are living vicariously through their kids success. I don’t want to be that person. I want to sit an observe (and maybe pray) that all goes well.

Lord, I wish there was a rule book for this crap.

Where the Hell Is Spring?


It’s April 16th…and it’s sleeting. Last year during spring break it was 85 degrees. We had one nice day in the 70s and now we’re back to cold, windy…and SLEET! WTF! For anyone who has rheumatoid arthritis, you know this is the worst type of weather. The damp, cold. It’s awful. My hands and feet ache, my back is stiff and even my knee hurts, which is odd for me.

I need some warmth. We aren’t going anywhere for spring break and it’s not going to be a nice week, which translates to a week of my kids telling me they are bored in the house.

We’ll figured something out to do, but let’s face it…it’s not Aruba or the Dominican Republic.

I’m almost feeling depressed today. I’m in a bit of a funk and I know the weather had something to do with it, but I’m sick of not feeling good enough in several aspects of my life. I’m sure living with an autoimmune disease plays into it. No one sets out thinking hooray, I hope to get one of those! I hate that I have to slow down sometimes. I hate that I think I’m huge. I hate that sometimes I need a nap for seemingly no reason, but my body is crashing and I don’t have a choice.

It’s tough to explain to people. I end up feeling lazy if I need to lie down. There are always a million things I could be doing, but when it’s that kind of exhaustion just hits and I’ve found if I push through, I end up making it worse.

I keep telling myself I’ll cheer up with the sun and the warmth but to be honest, I am not sure that will happen. I’m scared it won’t. My kids are at a stage of life where they are super busy and I’m constantly on the go driving them to this activity or that. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I am already fearing for the day I don’t have anyone to drive around.

I guess I’ll allow the funk for a bit and then pick myself up. I don’t feel sorry for myself very often and I know I have things very good in comparison to many others. I have some days with no pain. They aren’t often, but they happen and for the most part my pain is manageable. I’m trying to count my blessings tonight as I’m watching my hands swell. This week has got to get have some bright moments. It just has to.



The Results Are In

If I’m being honest, the results were in a week ago. My surgery was on the 19th and everything went really well. Last week I got a call that everything came back benign and I can finally close that chapter.

My surgeon was amazing. I’m very glad I made the decision to use her, and I had very little pain afterward. The worst part was when they had to place a wire in directing them to the exact spot to be removed. That process was long and incredibly un-fun. Think about your boob being in a mammogram machine for 10 minutes at a time while they target the spot. It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t fun.

I just wanted to share my news and relief. Now back to the craziness of daily life…


The Plan Is Set



I have a plan. It’s a start anyway. I had an MRI and have met with two surgeons. I liked them both, but decided to go with the one that dropped the f-bombs because I like a person who is straight-forward. She is highly recommended by several friends who have used her and I just felt very comfortable with her.

So I’m letting her take out part of my boob. The bad news…well I guess the whole thing isn’t great news…but the first surgeon was putting a radioactive seed int he day before and I felt like — Okay, I have a theme song, Radioactive by the Firm. That will get me through. But now they are sticking a wire into the area the day of the surgery instead. You try coming up with a song with the word Wire in the title that doesn’t suck.

So I asked one of my dearest friends to help me with this dilemma and she thought for a moment and said, “I don’t know, maybe Sledgehammer??” Then she profusely apologized and said she was sleep deprived, but I couldn’t stop laughing and now my surgery theme song is Sledgehammer.

I feel like everyone should have a theme song for life events. At the moment I’m not scared. I’m done with the testing and the waiting for the moment. Though the biopsy came back benign, I’m prepared for all case scenarios. The surgeon does not like the way it looks, but it could be nothing. It could be atypical. It could be stage 0. All of those things require no significant treatment. It could also be stage 1 or beyond cancer and I will cross that bridge when I get to it.

Right now, the focus is on making my kids feel secure that I’m going to be fine. My son has a fear that I’m going to die because he’s 14 because my mother died when I was 14. So telling him I’m having surgery was not easy. I’ve spent a lot of time assuring them that I know it’s all going to be fine. I pray I’m doing a good job of that. I will deal with whatever is coming my way, but the less they have to worry about, the better.

So surgery is the 13th. Theme song is Sledgehammer (thanks Colleen). And I will probably not panic until the 12th. You can stay tuned for that blog soon. Right now, I’m happy to have a plan and a doctor I really like.


More About Boobs



Sounds like I’m writing porn tonight, doesn’t it? Well, I’m not. I’m still dealing with “different” looking tissue in one of my breasts. I had the stereotactic biopsy that I talked about in my last blog. To anyone out there that needs to have one, I was very surprised that I really felt hardly anything. I was very nervous and it was not at all like the article I had read (sometimes the Internet is not your friend).

I stood up during it, much like a regular mammogram and once they found the spot on 3D, they were able to do the biopsy. I was petrified of the needle to numb the area because they always say “you’ll just feel a pinch” and it hurts like hell. It seriously was only a tiny pinch. Do not be afraid to have this test. I spent all night worrying and it was not bad at all.

The following Tuesday I kept getting emails that there were updates to my health record. It took me a while to get up the courage to look, but when I finally did I read that there was no atypicality and it was benign. A huge sigh a relief.

A sigh of relief that was short lived when I received a phone call from the radiologist the next morning who said they were referring me to a surgeon because while what they tested was benign, no reason was given for why the tissue was different. She said I could have an MRI or see a surgeon, but she thought it would be a good idea to get the surgeon’s recommendation first.

I saw the surgeon this past Wednesday and I’m not sure how I feel. I will have an MRI next Wednesday. She said it would give them more information and she could see blood flow to the area. Basically, when they see areas of distortion (that’s what we’re calling it now, btw) they appear different in different angled mammogram photos. Mine did not really change. They appeared in every photo, though they looked a little different in some.

It’s possible that there is something there and they didn’t take a large enough sample, but she assured me that looking at it, she felt if it was a cancer it was a stage 0 at this point because of the way it’s appearing. So the plan is I’ll have an MRI on Wednesday and speak to her on Friday (hopefully) regarding the results. From there we will make the decision on surgery, that I tentatively scheduled for September 8th because I think I’m going to just want it out.

My husband left the appointment feeling like I didn’t need it out and maybe she was too eager for surgery. I felt the opposite. I felt like I wanted the surgery and she was willing to do it, but preferred to have the MRI and more information first. I do also have a second opinion scheduled for September 1st, so my ducks are in a row.

I hate waiting, though. Waiting for appointments. Waiting for results. Just waiting. Tomorrow I’ll find something more exciting to write about to keep my thoughts on other things.


Oh btw, that’s not my boob in the mammogram photo but it amazed me how much the photo looked like the “distortion” they pointed out. It’s the little white star shaped thing an inch or so in from the left.

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