Hello, friends. You probably thought that I had exhausted the subject of fat and self-pity and had retired to Sludgeville. Haaaaaaaaa! Never! I am slouched over my pudge after a particularly high-caloric day and you know what? I’m feeling good. Yep. [Insert Adam Lambert or Nina Simone here singing "Feeling Good."] This heat is intense, and with it comes the need to expose as much skin as possible and wear as little as is lawfully required. These days I’m feeling like a snake on a rock, soaking up the sun’s mysteries, and joyfully intensifying my crinkly crow’s feet. And the greatest thing about it?? It just feels right…to be this size, to be this woman, to be this mother and wife. So no pity parties tonight, friends. I’m running in a high gear: catering a sit-down dinner for 100 this Saturday, leaving for the beach on Sunday, coming home to VBS, and then off to Italy for two weeks with Burns. Life is good. Stepping out on the stage for my high note, friends. Here comes my high “C”!!!!

Tune in here to youtube and feel the love with Nina…

Mwahhhhhhh.

“Old habits truly never die… they just fester and wait for weakness.”

I thank Marl for the quote. I have always used the phrase:  “old habits die hard.” Well, hockey-poo on that. They never die. I was fessing up to my Mother this morning that I had gained 8 pounds. (EIGHT pounds…all of it in my gut.) The battle with food and the habits formed over 40 years of overeating, grotesque binges, and pity-party munching will never go away. I fight everyday and sometimes every minute to beat back this compulsive need to have something in my mouth.  Even with the “new” mind set and “new” attitude toward food and lifestyle, the old ugliness creeps in like a fog under my radar. Next thing I know, I’ve eaten an entire bag of “sugar-free” toffee squares! That was the chaser for a half-full bag of apple cinnamon rice cakes. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhgggggg.  (Tearing at my face with clawed fingers) Now some of you kind folks will say, “Well, shu-gah, it was shu-gah freeeee candy. And rice cakes, baby, well they’re good for yah, aren’t they?” I recited this pitful exchange myself  as I turned the bag over in my hand to discover I had sucked every crumb and licked every bit of chocolate residue from the wrappers. No excuses.

Someone just make it go away! If I can track down this food zombie hiding in my inner recesses, will someone slay her for me? I’m pretty sure you’ll need to take her head and probably scatter the ashes in moving water because I’m pretty sure she’s able to regroup…stronger and faster than before. (Visions of a 300 pound, rotting fleshed zombie singing really shrill high C’s shambling through  Fairview…..shudder)

Speaking of pity parties, you are all officially invited to mine in case you hadn’t figured it out. Today I’m facing old demons and it isn’t pretty. Tomorrow? Well, I’m just going to pull on those red Wonder Woman boots and strap on my metal support garments and go to battle. Wonder Woman versus the Zombie. Tune in for the next installment, my friends. May you all slay a demon-zombie tomorrow and look FABULOUS while you do it.

Mwah.

Greetings, friends. Yes, I am owning up to having yet another addiction.  Food blogs. Yes, imagine it…like-minded foodies writing about their love affairs with food.  Jooooooooy! Now I have a cookbook collection par excellence and every recipe website known bookmarked on my puters, and one of my favorite ways to kill time is to sit and look at pictures of food and try new recipes. That being said,  my relationship with food has had to change dramatically this  year. I simply can not eat what I used to nor do I have any desire to return to the days of high-fat, over-processed sludge I was consuming. When I look at a recipe now, I look for balance.  Does it have a balance of proteins and carbs?  Is it healthy and fulfilling? Does the whole grain or healthy green factor lightly balanced by the higher fat flavor factor (cheese and dairy?)  I recently purchased the Hip Chick’s Guide to Macrobiotics by Jessica Porter. I was so looking forward to bragging about my newest lifestyle change, complete with a seaweed and brown rice diet. I wanted that radiant glow that came from eating ultra healthy (not to mention the smirk from knowing that MY diet was healthier than yours.) Alas, my friends.  Seaweed makes me gag. And there is no way around macrobiotics without eating seaweed in various and sundry forms. But one great thing I got from the reading (and I highly recommend the book) is the need for balance in your diet. The yin and yang of food is a rather simple idea and the basis of macrobiotics. Indeed, it is the basis for physical and mental health and clarity for everyone, is it not? Food is our fuel; it is what powers us. Doesn’t it stand to reason that if subpar fuel is used then energy output will be hindered? A while back I wrote about my recent sugar binge and it’s effects, both physical and mental (and spiritual, too, if I can use a little woo-woo talk.) When I put good fuel in my body…greens, whole grains, vegetables, and fruit BALANCED with smaller amounts of great chewy breads, luscious cheeses, and wonderful salty Irish butter…then I run more efficiently. I realize I am offering up nothing new here. We hear about healthy eating, diets, use of organics, buying and eating locally and with the season all the time. It is the newest trend in lifestyle improvement.  I’m just tossing my two-cents worth in, that of a real woman living in the backwoods of Tennessee (well..Fairivew. Hey, we do have one traffic light and a McDonalds!) I love my little town, but eating healthy can present some challenges within her city limits. But it can be done, my friends. We have a fabulous source for locally grown veggies:  Fresh Harvest Cooperative. We are not far from Publix and Kroger…both of which carry my Ezekial Cereal and Almond Milk. And Whole Foods and Whole Body, if not necessarily close, can be gotten to with a little effort.  The point is this…expending the effort is worth it. It’s worth it to me and my family. We are worth a little extra drive on Wednesdays to pick up our fabulous goody bag from Tallahassee’s farm. The drive to Whole Foods to buy my delicious face lotions and potions can be made into a family outing. And sitting at the puter at 4 am and reading about the joys of black bean brownies…indescribable!

Before I go, I want to share the highlight of my day. My husband…OOooooo, what a man…bought me something this afternoon. Something I have been dreaming about, reading about, and shopping for weeks.  Get ready, girls…he bought me… A COMPOST BIN!!! One that rolls! Weeeeeeeeeeee! Now that’s love.

Whew. Two weeks of sluggery  and pain, my friends….and not all of it mine. The Rogers family is recovering from Maddie’s mishap at school with a broken arm and three pins. My loved ones have been suffering. It’s amazing to me how we internalize other people’s pain, how we take that discomfort and morph it into mental and physical stumbling blocks for ourselves. I will admit to many a moment the last few weeks where I have totally thrown in the towel.  I ate what I wanted (a Meximelt from Taco Hell…..AHHHHHHHHHHHH….never again.) I sat on my spreading bum rather than go to the gym or get outside (caught up on my Food Network cravings) and ate more refined sugar than I even did in the old days (pre-WLS). For those of you with little imagination, let me tell you…it was ugly! The effects of all that crap in my system combined with my family’s stress turned me into a different person. I was mean, my friends. Plain mean. Short-tempered. Antagonistic. And just plain pukey, too. I was in a  real nose-dive and heading to the bottom fast. I think most of us know that feeling…that out-of-control downward spiral that you can’t pull out of? I was there.

But then I got a wake-up call. One of my nearest and dearest is going through a rough time in her marriage.  It made me stop and take a look at what I have…and what I don’t. Thanks be to God, it pulled me up short. I realized I was empowered to make changes that I needed to or if no change were forthcoming, I was tough enough to accept some hard truths in ALL areas of my life. It was an incredibly freeing moment. Nothing had changed. I was still toxic, inside and out, but I had a new purpose, a more honest direction in which to walk.  It was then pretty easy to have salmon and salad for lunch that day…and a yogurt for a snack…and to drink my protein drinks again. It was easier to sit and really TALK to my husband and to my friends about what was going on inside. With a whole lot of prayer and getting outside to breathe deep and let go of some garbage, it became crystal clear what I needed to be doing and who I needed to be loving. And suddenly I began to de-sludge. Without graphic physical descriptions, suffice to say…I got rid of stuff, inside and out.

I don’t wish pain on anyone, but it can serve a grander purpose. It can jerk us up short and offer us opportunities to grow and move beyond. Beyond the toxic sludge we bathe in.  So get outside, friends. Offer your prayers to whatever higher power you look toward. Make a list of all the good in your life. I am trying to do each of these three things everyday. And you know what? I fell goooooooooood today.

Blessings to everyone. Kiss and hug someone you wouldn’t normally and spread the love. Maybe I’ll catch one of the bus stop kids this morning and give him some love?

Mwah.

Oooooo, it is so good to be home. I made a super quick run to Birmingham while my stepmama had surgery yesterday. She did great and I got to spend some time with my Dad and stepsister. Family is a powerful thing, isn’t it? Our home and hearth…the place where we return to again and again. I usually find a great deal of peace by being with my family. And I can also experience my greatest stress and angst in their presence. How can that be? I think it has something to do with the fact that those we love the most and let in the most…those who know us best….have the greatest power over us. Being with my family grounds me and reminds me of what is most important, and that is loving and being loved. I have two homes. One here in Fairview with my nearest and dearest, the home I have made and worked for with my spouse. It is my immediate haven, and there I am most happy. This home is the canopy under which I eat and sleep. But then I go to my other home, the home that sits nestled under Vulcan’s bum, Birmingham. I grew up staring in wide-eyed wonder at his commanding iron buttocks, visiting the old downtown Alabama theater on Saturdays, and hanging in Southside during my single girl days. I know many of her nooks and crannies, and still feel the pull  of those old haunts. I passed restaurants I visited with friends, grocery stores where I plunked down many a dollar, and my alma mater, Bham Southern. This is the home of my youth, where my roots dig deep into red clay and iron ore.  Both places are important. Both are home. Both feed different parts of me. What a grand day today was…where I woke up in one home and then joyfully returned to the other. I feel a bit like a kid again today. I even came home with chocolate chip cookies and challah from Big Sky Bakery!

As a travelogue aside, if you are not from Bham, think about taking a trip. To be such a large city, she maintains a small town feel. She glories in her belle-like gardens and neighborhood niches. For those of you looking for a weekend away, I have made a list of places you have to visit. It’s only a three hour drive from Nashville, but it would make for a great little weekend get-away.

Stay at:

1. The Tutwiler hotel. Claaaaaaas-sy.

Eat at:

2. Highlands Bar and Grill. Chef Frank Stitt is one of the wonders of the South. Go and have one of the best meals of yourlife. Make your reservation well in advance!

3. Surin West- great Thai food on Southside.

4. Hot and Hot Fish Club.

5. Bottegas-anther of Chef Stitts establishments

Shop at:

6. Smith’s Variety Store in Mountain Brook Village. My favorite place to buy a hairbow or a button.

7. Let’s Get Organized in Homewood. OCD friends-take plenty of money.

And visit:

8. The Birmingham Zoo.

9. The Botanical GArdens (particularly in the spring when the  azaleas and rhododendrons are blooming.)

10. The Civil Rights Museum.

11. IMAX theater…the BEST imax I have visited.

To my friends and family still there, next time you look north, hold your face up….and consider yourself kissed.

Mwah.

Greetings, friends.  Tonight was a good night. It was “Let’s share our stories” night at the Franklin Library (my gastric bypass support group meeting.)  I’m always surprised by how different our journeys are. We all had the same procedure (every once in a while, we get a lap band patient in there.), but we eat different things, some lose quickly, some at a snail’s pace, some with joy and enthusiasm, while others seem to struggle each day. What is for me a mountain range of issues is for some folks a tiny molehill. The point is this: we all struggle, and although some battles are physical, they are mostly fought in the mind. And yes, every day is tough. I have lost numerous battles the last few days. While muddling through in my lovely PMS state, I have eaten constantly and with great enthusiasm and am now feeling rather blob-like.  Tonight it was  gratifying to sit in room full of people who know and sympathize with my struggles. I imagine AA and all manner of addiction programs are the same.  You can safely voice your fears and failures and know you are not judged. I realize we are all looking for answers and compassion.

So what if we take this idea and apply it to all aspects of our lives? What if we give ourselves permission to be imperfect around others while supporting them in their battles?  Sounds rather pastoral, doesn’t it? Peaceful. Idyllic. The opposite of my mental state the last few bloated, snarly days. But I can dream. Dream of a world full of gentle, compassionate souls…where we listen more than we speak…where all snack foods are low calorie, low fat, and good for you… a world where we are all in therapy.

(POPCORN! I smell popcorn.  Gotta get some. I feel like that dog in the commercials sniffing out bacon.)

Sigh. Tomorrow I strap on my armor, friends. Tonight I’m a puddle at the feet of the God of Excess and Pudge.  I’m taking my drooping molehills and raiding the fridge. Stay strong friends….and call me if you need an ear.

Mwah.

I’ve been having thoughts about what it means to be a “strong woman.” I  particularly need to address my childhood ideas of what this creature was. When I was growing up in the South, particularly during the 70s, the idea of a strong woman was someone who forsook all others to care for herself. She was a woman who opened her own doors and stood on top of desks and regularly incited riot. She had no need for makeup, deodorant, razors, or depilatories. Her suits were mannish and her footwear practical.  My daddy and uncles called her all sorts of names and used the word “feminist” with the same rage they called someone a nazi or socialist.  Strong women were those who leaned on no one and accepted no help.

Can anyone say crap?!

I am surrounded by an amazing assortment of women, each unique, beautiful, and yes, strong. They inspire me with their uplifting spirituality, with their commitment to their family and home,  with their wit and intelligence, with their graciousness and gentleness, and others by their roaring strength and determination. I take little pieces of each of these women with me each time we share space, whether it is here on the Net, over tea at Starbucks, or kneeling side-by-side at the communion rail. The older I get, I find more and more things to admire in my own mother, my step-mother, and my mother-in-law. My crones, my wise women, and my mentors. The older women I sing with, worship with, and eat and booze with…they all uplift me and weave threads of strength through me. My thirties and forties friends with their mothering and vitality. My younger babes with their energy and enthusiasm. How amazing is that? How lucky I consider myself to be. I spent the day at  home with Burns and Maddie while snow fell and neighborhood kids run amuck through my house. I kept having these amazing little moments of inspiration, and each one had a face- a gorgeous, animated face. She looked a bit like….

Mom and Mom, Carole, Dee, Dara, Ruis, Rowan, Peggy, Connie, Kim, Dawn, Marlene, Jennifer, Ellen, Julie, Jennifer C., Mishelle, Laurie, Sistah Susan, Monna, Ann, Sally, Claire, Jerry, Barb, Becky, Martha B., Beverly, Denise, Peggy, Margaret, Mickey, Tina, Elizabeth, Ronda, Dannie, Selena, Jean, Martha D, Teresa, Elizabeth, Sue, Valerie, Katie, Helen, Ellen, Nan, MArietta, Peggy, Sharon, Margaret, Janet, Vanessa, Beth, Jennifer A., Sam, Julie, Susan N., Gail, Lois, Pam, Lucinda, Ellen, Kim, Fran, Lorinda, Roberta, Tracee, Monica, Diane, Ruth, Kay, Andrea, Julie H. Kim, Sarah, Amy, Sabrina, Emily, Abby, Kelly, Patrice, Betty, Florine, Lori, Kathy, Marida, Wanda and ohhhh so many others. I love and respect each of you. Your gifts are staggering and each time our paths cross, you bless me.

So I  challenge each of you ladies who read this to recognize and honor your gifts and your beauty. You are such an inspiration to others. And if someone as selfish and near-sighted as me can recognize your glow, then by Godde, you must SHINE! My definition of a strong woman has morphed into something very different than that 70s hairy broad. Today…well,  she is all of you.

Mwah

Well, friends, I’ve been putting to good use the two new videos I purchased, Weight Loss Yoga and The 30 Day Shred. Both feature the trainers from The Biggest Loser (which I will miss tonight. Ye Goddes!) Both are excellent if you are looking for something new to spice up your fitness routine…if sweating all over your carpet and feeling like a fool are your cup of tea. It’s amazing how taking a positive action, however small, can radically alter your mental state. I’ve been rather morose lately, not wanting to workout and frankly, not feeling well. By taking a little time and trying something new, I have given myself that boost that I needed. I don’t know about you, but Apathy should be my middle name. It is so darn easy to find an excuse to just stop and rest. To stop and eat. To stop and shop. You get it. This morning while working out, I found myself mid-jumping jack thinking, “Oh, Best Man needs to go outside and I should walk him NOW.” What??? Like this 75 pound dog can’t hold his water for 10 more minutes?? Even as I was thinking it, I realized  I was trying to sabotage myself. Why?? Why do I do this? Again, if I could answer that one, I would have billions and rule the afternoon airwaves. So to use a tool from EFM, I tried to consider the payoffs. By NOT working out, what do I gain? By raiding my child’s snack drawer, what do I gain? By sitting on the sofa and experiencing cheek-spread, what do I gain? Hmmmmmm?

[Crickets]

Jack! I don’t get jack! I can’t think of one damn reason to keep myself down, to keep tearing myself to pieces. There is no payoff. Well, maybe one. I can wallow in my patheticness and be gloriously alone. I’m always claiming I need more time for myself, and God knows, no ones wants to hang with a whiner. So besides indulging my anti-social tendencies, I gain nothing from my apathetic state. The list of what I lose is much lengthier, such as self-respect, positive energy, and forward momentum. Admit it. When you spend 30 minutes jiggling and sweating, it is a bit easier to bypass McDonalds on the way to work. (It’s still hard. I could small the sausage with my windows rolled up, for God’s sake!) Why ruin all that hard work. So I sit here this afternoon, with my gluts just a wee bit higher and tighter, my abdominus erectus slightly more erect, and my mind infinitely more clear.  I think I may have just answered a question I posted several weeks ago about why and how athletes maintain their discipline. Positive action begets positive action. Hope propels me onward. So today I am the queen of the world. I may be a lowly serf tomorrow, but for today….

MWAHHHHH [waving my most royal wave]

Well, I slept most of yesterday and today followed by a trip to the doctor. I, my friends, have had a “viral intestinal bug.” I won’t describe the symptoms, but suffice to say, a trip to Kroger this morning had me shaking with exhaustion. But all things happen for a reason, grasshoppahs.  [Bowing] During one of my frequent potty breaks in the grocery, I passed the book kiosk in the pharmacy. There was Jillian Michael’s newest book “Making the Cut” just at my eye level.  I had seen it a few weeks ago in the bookstore and thought…”that looks interesting.” I picked it up and began to read. It helped clarify a few things for me. Suddenly I was struck with the notion that I can not act like a gastric bypass patient anymore. I eat pretty much what I want now, although smaller portions than I did during the hefty years. I no longer lose weight just by batting my eyelashes as I have been doing. If I eat too much, I actually GAIN WEIGHT. Go figure! It occurred to me that my journey has normalized. I don’t need to lose a ton of weight anymore. I’m pretty happy with my size, but I want to tone and strengthen my body. So today Jillian’s book was just the body slam I needed. Nothing subtle about God’s hints to Donna Dawn. I also picked up another exercise video. I am also scheduled to start working with a personal trainer again next week. New direction. New self-imposed gauntlet. What have I learned from the last few weeks, you ask?

Obviously, I needed the rest and mental clarity of a few days off.  I needed to forgive past failures and embrace the new me…the one I am still trying to come to grips with.  In one of my support group meetings, I was being rather whiny and asked, “When does it stop being so haaaard? Why do I have to think about this aaaaaall the time??” Our facilitator looked across the room and said in her best tough-love voice, “It never stops being hard. You are going to have to fight every day, every meal,  for the rest of your life.”  It was not the answer I expected. I was a little sucker punched for a few days. And then ….[Hollywood music starts...The sun comes out from behind a cloud...Chorus sings in perfect triadic harmony] Suddenly it didn’t seem like such a terrible penance.  I realized that in knowing the battle has to be fought, I can arm myself and prepare to fight. I may loose skirmishes now and again, but by God, I will not lose the battle.  So, my friends, I came up with title “Amazon Journey” for my blog. That’s what I feel like (besides the thirty year dream of wanting to look like Linda Carter in Gold lame and Red High heel boots)…a warrior woman fighting everyday. The battleground is my mind and body. The skirmeshes are inevitably Nutella- or Cheeze it-based ones. But I will win, folks.

I spent tonight cooking a grand meal with my family and enjoying every bite. What a great way to kick off the weekend. I hope you all have a grand one.

Mwah.

Who would have thought it? Blogging requires discipline- the continually applied application of craft and form. Well, perhaps some people apply craft. I just spew. The actual application of self discipline is quite new to me. I know what it is. I’ve heard it mentioned by others, but I’ve just never worked that hard. It sounds very egotistical to say that most things are easy for me- at least the things that people see, that is- the parts of me most apparent to others- my music, cooking, etc. What I have not shared before now is this constant vicious battle within. Important internal battles: like the voracious desire to raid the Cheeze-it box, the desire to move to Bora Bora, run naked, and call myself Kiki, the bloodthirsty war of whether to buy myself sassy new slingbacks or to cloth my constantly growing and eating child.  Yes, I am being silly, but these battles are constant and sometimes even the silliest ones defeat me. I am learning that aging brings new challenges. What was so complicated in my teens and twenties is a walk in the park now. What scared me senseless in my greener years is now laughable. But looking at myself in the mirror requires more courage than I ever thought possible. Where does this self-hatred come from?? My parents loved me and nurtured me! My friends always supported me, and I have been lavished with affection from the cradle! So I ask again, where does this self-hatred come from?? Obviously, if I could answer that, I would have billions of dollars and my own tv show. But here is my amateur attempt at analyzation:

1. Look around. How much of your environment is geared toward attaining someone else’s idea of perfection.Pictures? Billboards? Ads on your computer screen?

2. Open your checkbook and consider what portion of your paycheck you spend on self improvement or to make yourself look like those ads and/or pictures.

3. How many times today will you use self-depracting humor around others? Will you make fun of yourself?

4. Will you lay in bed tonight and verbally flog yourself for your apparent “failures” today?

I truly hope none of you can answer yes or “oh, my” to any of those, but I suspect many of you will. I certainly do and will. So as I openly work to change my body and impove my health, I’ve realized that I need to add something else to my list. In fact, it needs to move to the very top of my priorities. I have to learn to accept my flaws and failures without the flogging and mental razor blades. I have to stop being so viscious with myself. I need to treat myself with the same care that I would show my child…or simpler yet, with the same respect that I would show any person I pass on the street. Is it just plain dumb that I can be kinder to the bumbling yahoo in line at the Food Lion than I am to myself?

So yes, I weighed this morning and have gained. I have no plans to work out today (I do tomorrow, though!) And you know what? I’m okay with it. I’m going to make myself some hot tea and get on with my work.  Try to love yourself just a bit, my friend. Be patient. I’ll do the same.

Mwah