March 25, 2008 by pamela.

I have one more day to be the age I never thought I be. And then tomorrow I will be the age I never thought I’d reach. For some reason, I don’t rightly remember why, I thought I’d never live past 39. And then I did. And now, I’m wondering how I got this far. It’s surely not my own doing - for I have been my own undoing. It’s surely not my dietary choices or physical fitness or any other personally inspired or responsible behaviour on my part, for I am one of the ‘least of these’ when it comes to consistent anything. I’m a short-term sprinter when it comes to diets, physical fitness or health regimens.

If it were good intentions that brought me here today, even those generally come to a failing point. Many roads are paved with good intentions and I certainly have a number of them. I think back on The Cambridge diet I did in 1982… I lost 30 pounds in thirty days. I know. Yikes. I drank a shake in the morning and evening. I had a bowl of soup at midday and several cups of water and a handful of supplements throughout the day. I bounced on a rebounder and that’s it. I was busy with two very small children… but that’s it. I never really gained much of that back… but then, I was doing such a great deal of physical work that it was sometimes difficult to take time to just do nothing much.

Then I think of all the different attempts to lose weight after each subsequent pregnancy… and I do lose weight. Not so fast and not so easily as before, but I do lose weight - but that only happens when I’m totally set and I don’t know why but I am only totally set ever several years - it’s the in between time that’s so disastrous! I always count on tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll get a handle on this weight reduction… Tomorrow I will really get serious. Tomorrow I will really get back to my T-Tapping exercising and I so will get my water intake up and my carb intake down. Tomorrow I work more diligently to eat to get my alkaline level up and keep my consumption of acid producing foods down. Yep - back at it tomorrow.

I have this weight chart… the idea of it is to demonstrate to me how great things are going by the downward line across the page. But I must tell you… I very nearly think I’m dead for all I see is a flat line. No, I didn’t say fat line (though, it’s inferred, I suppose). So the flat line has continued. Well, until recently. I am seeing a small decline. I used to measure success in inches and pounds. Now I do so in much smaller increments… and I say, this garment doesn’t feel as tight as it did before. O, o… that’s right, it’s from the grouping of larger clothes I have in my closet.

Tomorrow I’ll do my green drinks and walk. Tomorrow I will take my supplements and lemon & distilled water. Tomorrow I will get back on track - yes indeedy, I will. Tomorrow I will sprout some wheat, make some spinach salads and a bunch of other greens will go into my smoothie… along with that Total Tonic and wheatgrass juice powder. Tomorrow will be a great day for all of that. O, wait.

Tomorrow’s the day I never thought I’d live to see.

My mom’s in South America… and through the sweet joy and benefit of the internet, she sent me a pretty card. Sweet of her… but before she left, she gave me two very beautiful blue and white mugs with tea infusers and lids. I love blue and white anything. Anything blue and white or white and blue is my favourite - well, except on cheddar cheese.

And about that umpteenth and one diet? Yeah…I’m on it. Again.

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August 7, 2007 by pamela.

Well, she’s been hanging around here for about a week now. And, to tell you the truth, I think my new friend is trying to kill me. Well… maybe not… but she is, at the very least, trying to beat me up. Okay— so, now I sound like a child complaining about the very thing they need the most. My new friend Teresa (as in Tapp) has been meeting me here every day for the past week. I’m getting in the swing of things—I would have thought I’d be further ahead or that it would be easier by now — after spending 35-40 minutes a day with her. But noooooooooooo. No, she is relentless… every day it’s the same thing - every day she attempts to break my neck or my back or my buns or my thighs or my calves or my arms (or all of them at the same time).

O, oooo I know, this *is* my doing (or undoing). I should have been e-x-e-r-c-i-s-i-n-g every day through the years. But I wasn’t. Now I am. And isn’t that the crux of the Christian life? But I wasn’t—now I am. But I wasn’t walking with Jesus—now I am. I was all those things. Now, by the grace of God I am not. So now, I see it’s the same with food and exercise. I wasn’t doing what I ought—and now I am.

I’m telling you—if you’ll go and get that book and read it(!) and then pop in the DVD — you’ll see. First, you’ll meet that new friend, Teresa. And then you’ll soon learn that she is going to try and beat you up, too! I haven’t gotten to that point where I can smoothly go through two workouts every day. But I am staying with it - 2 a day. No, I haven’t lost 85 inches or 15 dress sizes ( I know - a mere exaggeration) like most of the “success stories” in the book do in the first 15 minutes 30 days. But—I am on the path. I wasn’t exercising every day before last week and it took me a lot of years and a lot of babies and a lot of nursing—okay, and a lot of eating to get where I am today. But —I’m not today where I was yesterday—I’m a tad bit better today than I was yesterday and a whole lot better than I was 5 days ago and will be better tomorrow. O, I still need to concentrate on the “routine” of exercises to get the hang of each one. But, mygoodness, they move along so swiftly that I don’t have much time to concentrate on one thing for too long… she moves on whether I’m doing it right or not. She never waits for me to get it right, even though she does remind me over and over… Is your back flat? Are your knees bent? Tuck those buns, keep your knees bent… KLT and on and on.

I’ve practically heard her in my sleep… and, believe me, I have recurring nightmares that I will be one of the poster children who didn’t lose two dress sizes and didn’t keep my back flat or my buns tucked or KLT in 30 days. O, and the KLT? O, I looked and looked in the book to see what in the world she was talking about: KLT. I thought—KLT… KLT… KLT — keep legs tight? keep laughing today? keep living tough? O: knees-little-toes. That’s where you (with legs bent, buns tucked, tummy in —feet apart: in line with hips — feet straight) keep your knees bent and pushed out toward little toes. Yes, you can! See? You can hear her, too, can’t you?

And I’ve heard her at my washer/dryer. There I am pulling the wet laundry from the washer and tucking it into the dryer… knees bent, tummy in, buns tucked… like I’m doing the “pull the weeds” exercise. Okay… so you’ve gotta get the book or go to the website so you’ll see what I mean. I tell you—she follows me all over the house… I go to unload the dishwasher and I hear her asking me: pamela, are your knees bent, is your back flat? Yes you can! It goes on and on. I’m vacuuming and there she is: are your shoulders back, is your tummy in? And I say, O, for goodness’ sakes — I’m working… I don’t have time for you to visit right now.
So she tells me I will be “Fit and Fabulous in 15 minutes.” Okay— (And that’s the title of her book, by the way) there’s one little part that might be easily overlooked, and that’s: how many “15 minutes” it will take to be fit and fabulous. I’m thinking it’s going to take a whole lot more than one week or even 60 days of 15 or even 32 minutes each day. ~wink~

If you’re going to have my new friend Teresa come over to your house, I’d suggest that you get (in addition to privacy)  a good pair of X-trainer shoes. I was greatly encouraged when I got a pair a few days ago and started wearing them just for when Teresa visits.  And I’m a whole lot more motivatd now that I have a new vocabulary —target areas have been identified and have names I’d just as soon forget. Consider: back fat, bra pudge, tummy bulge, saddle bags… Ooooooooo.   So, I’m learning the secret to a flat stomach without doing sit ups.  I already knew part of the secret (and it’s not sit-ups): it is to quit sitting up to the table (or the computer) and now, with Teresa coming over each day… I’m learning.
More next week.

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August 2, 2007 by pamela.

I have a new friend.  And believe me… I didn’t instantly like her… she was just… hmmmm too… too.  O, she hasn’t done anything wrong… no, no, no.  It’s just that I initially thought she was smug and seemed a bit too sure of herself.  O, not that she was arrogant or even that she was overly confident, for I really do appreciate the character quality of “confidence” in a person.  It seems that when a person is genuinely confident, then I can be pretty sure they’re also genuinely… uh… genuine.  I don’t mean the confidence that’s actually insecure, but the confidence that’s confident about what’s known or what’s believed.  I have, however, met lots of people who are insecure but are truly sure and solid about their beliefs (but I digress and that’s probably a whole other blog entry).

So my new friend…. boy, is she direct and commanding!  I don’t know exactly why she had my attention from the very beginning, but she did.  It was as if whatever she said, that was true!  I’m sometimes wary of such boldness and I tend to have reservations… but in her case, I was somehow immediately fascinated by her story - her approach.  So she was standing there sharing her credentials, her experiences and sort of the outcome of her life and those experiences.   There was no arguing with her “success” — I mean, in many ways: seeing is believing!

My husband told me that he was perfectly fine with me investing time with her.  In fact, so much so, that he agreed that if he were to help me develop a friendship with her, he wanted me to agree to meet with her regularly and he wanted me to make a strong commitment to do so.  So I did. You know… just for the “record,” my husband isn’t looking for me to do anything and isn’t even remotely hinting that I need to do anything, by the way - just so’s ya know.

Well, as things would go, about that same time another friend came over to visit… and amazingly, with her was my new friend!  She didn’t know just how serious I was about becoming friends with this woman — and yet, she brought her over to my house?!  My friend warned me that I might not like her after a few visits.  I told her that I was willing to work through any difficulties bcz I was so ready to be done with my current circumstances that I was willing to go through just about anything… remember: no pain, no gain.  O, wait… no pain, no success.
So… the first occasion went fairly smoothly… then the next day was probably equally so.  By the third day I was wondering if I was going to like this friend after all.  I mean, she sort of kept gliding through our new friendship and I was really having a time of it.  I’d say… wow, I can’t do this and there she’d go… over and over again: yes, you can!  Then each time we’d get to the end of our visit, I’d think, well, maybe I can stick it out.  I did make a commitment to my husband after all.  And… she is, after all, adored by so many!   It’s just that I keep thinking I’m not going to be one of the ones to have such a successful friendship with her.  Or, rather, maybe I’m just not like other people… and maybe I can’t.

Today I’m going to visit with her — you know… that commitment I made and all…  And I know she’s going to be as cheerful and commanding as ever — each day she’s always the same… she just says the same things over and over.  She’s got it down to a routine.  I know what’s coming now and I know what she’s going to say.  And… though I’m hurting, she just smiles and says: yes, you can!  Now, I know I haven’t heard her whole story and so I know that there are many things she might want me to do in the future — she has all this stuff planned for me once I get a little more experience… there’s sort of an expectation that I will advance in our friendship.

Though I haven’t told her, the only reason I even wanted to make friends with her is that I have been on umteenth and one diets and I cannot seem to lose weight past a certain point and I do have a goal I “must” meet in six months.  Well… and during that little gout episode recently, my doctor told me I need to lose ten pounds and then lose ten pounds.  That was sort of her truthy way of telling me I need to lose t-w-e-n-t-y pounds.  Ten and then ten seemed to sound better.  Well, better to her (my doctor’s probably a size 0 or 2 - really).  Not to me.  Anyway… so my brand new friend seems to think I can do this and so:  bcz I made a commitment to see her, I will stick to it (and I also have my 6 month goal to keep in mind).  I read her book, listened to what other people think about her and on and on. Today’s my fourth visit.  O, she’s already here!

Now, if I have some good things to say about her in twenty seven days, at the end of this month, I’ll be sure and tell you!  No, wait, if I have any good thing to share about her during these days, you can be sure I will tell you.  What did I say yesterday about blogging and candor?  I’m not being secretive here… I’m just nervous to tell about my new commitment and what this friend’s name is… in case I fail (my husband or me or both).  But… at least for this initial number of 30 days,  I have made a commitment to spend time everyday with my new friend Teresa.  As in Tapp.  And about that umteenth and one diet?  Don’t ask.  And my six month goal?  Drum roll…. my six month goal is to be able to *comfortably* wear my wedding dress on our thirtieth wedding anniversary February 4.  Though I’ve not tried it on in twenty years, I know it’s a bit small for me —- well, okay, quite a bit —Oooooooo: now it’s out in the open.    I can almost hear my new friend now: Yes, you can!

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March 23, 2007 by pamela.

I was standing in the kitchen a little while ago and, as I do most every morning, I was waiting for my tea water to boil. Instantly, Doubter came in along with his friends, Sabotager and Shame to visit She-who-must-be-obeyed. You see, She-who-must-be-obeyed has been battling against My-will-to-obey and She-who-must-be-obeyed is very very cunning and has a litany of excuses as to why she deserves whatever she wants… especially when she listens to friends, Doubter, Sabotager and Shame. They’re all bent on tempting her to listen and bent on destroying My-will-to-obey.

You see, My-will-to-obey is often weak and even seems to exchange places with She-who-must-be-obeyed when My-will-to-obey is not drinking from the fresh life-spring of the Word of God. When My-will-to-obey just meanders through the morning, very quickly My-will-to-obey exchanges the sweet fruit of the spirit for the carnage of the world and begins to linger on with She-who-must-be-obeyed. One of the ways Doubter influences this is to tell his friends Sabotager and Shame to remind My-will-to-obey that it’s never going to get better or that things will never improve or that the day is bleak and so probably, since things will never change, it won’t matter if the bag of cookies is consumed. For, if little or no weight-loss has been achieved, what’s the point in My-will-to-obey continuing working at healthful eating and learning to exercise?

And then it dawns on me (as if for the first time, but for the umpteenth time) …every day’s a battle—O, it’s not about cookies or whatever other weapon the enemy uses to sabotage our flesh- but every day’s a battle of the will to obey God or self. For in each of us is this “She-who-must-be-obeyed” self… and yet, when we put our trust in the LORD Jesus Christ, we have the indwelling of the Holy Spirit and by the Spirit we yield not to self but to God. I find in the LORD all I need and whatever self or the world offers or demands is by comparison: nothing. I, therefore, must be renewed daily in the spirit of my mind that I do not that which “She-who-must-be-obeyed” would do but rather that which is pleasing to the LORD—that which is led of the LORD— who is my all in all… my-will-to-obey.

Excerpts of Romans 7.6-25

But now we are delivered from the law, that being dead wherein we were held; that we should serve in newness of spirit, and not in the oldness of the letter. What shall we say then? Is the law sin? God forbid. Nay, I had not known sin, but by the law: for I had not known lust, except the law had said, Thou shalt not covet.

But sin, taking occasion by the commandment, wrought in me all manner of concupiscence. For without the law sin was dead. For I was alive without the law once: but when the commandment came, sin revived, and I died. And the commandment, which was ordained to life, I found to be unto death.

For we know that the law is spiritual: but I am carnal, sold under sin. For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I. If then I do that which I would not, I consent unto the law that it is good. Now then it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me.

For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh,) dwelleth no good thing: for to will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good I find not. For the good that I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. I find then a law, that, when I would do good, evil is present with me. For I delight in the law of God after the inward man:

But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin.”

I did not eat the cookies Doubter offered to She-who-must-be-obeyed.

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October 21, 2006 by pamela.

I so appreciate our friend’s approach with us regarding nutrition and healthful foods. She’s patiently helping us (well, me–really) see some areas I need to alter regarding the foods we eat (and don’t eat) and how to make some adjustments. I like this manner of addressing food issues bcz I am dealing with more than simply what and when to eat.

It’s sort of a bizarre thing… it probably *seems* like people who eat whatever there is to eat, a SADiet or whatever, do not care about nutrition or anything else very much. But it’s really not that at all… it’s simply life long programming. And, for that matter, taste acquired over decades. And then simply a lack of motivation to do anything different.

Most people I know don’t make any dietary changes at all until a big bang goes off in their head. The big bang usually follows a conversation at a Doc’s office. The conversation usually contains the “c-word” Cancer or fatal________ or cardio_______ or something else (probably containing the word *high*). That, or suddenly, they land in the hospital in a diabetic coma or someone else does and they realize *they* need to do some reevaluating of the menus and shopping and dining out or whatever.

Now… I’m in the former rather than the latter — I just go along most of the time doing whatever we do, eating whatever we eat and haven’t had a knock-down-drag-out wake up call. Yet. But… I am not stupid. This path I’ve been on has that “wake-up call” somewhere along the way. Or I bypass the wake-up call and say: Good Morning, LORD. (In heaven)

So, I’ve been having a tremendous week of thinking, rethinking, evaluating, reevaluating and working to make some alterations to the food schema around here. And it takes a lot of evaluation — and I mean honest evaluation — to accurately assess the overall food schema of one’s life or in one’s home. Too many of us think we’re not so bad — I mean, we did have a balanced dinner, after all, and we do eat fairly healthful foods… we only had sweets a few times this week today. And then we take stock of what’s in the fridge… and then the freezer. Wow, uh-oh. Then the cabinets: mixes, grocery canned foods, cream-of-whatever soups, hot-chocolate mix, peanut butter, oils, fats, sweet-cereal, and ah, well looky here: chocolate chips, walnuts, crushed Heath bars, white flour, butter, Crisco, white sugar, brown sugar… hey, wait… that’s all important stuff for my deeeelicious cookies. And then you say: okay, okay: What do I have to give up in order to eat whatever I want? Or, okay, I’ll give up all that stuff for 6 weeks… or 6 days or whatever. I’ll do whatever I have to do in order to be able to eat what I want to eat. Sorry. It won’t work that way.

We don’t really have a strong desire to give up anything or to have our delightful diets encroached upon. And we don’t want anyone to tell us we can’t have something. Well, at least not until that doc mentions one of the C words: Cancer or Cardio_______ or something else. Unless… unless we simply stop and take a good look at our life and ask: LORD, is there anything in my life You want me to change? Am I placing a higher priority on food than I am placing to have a genuinely, fully submitted walk with You?

Unless we do this, we’ll probably wake up (sooner than later) saying, Good morning, LORD. How would You have used me had my whole life been totally yielded to You?

More later.

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October 19, 2006 by pamela.

I think I must have reverse anorexia. By this, I mean, I think when I look in the mirror I see less than what I see. I also seem less than what I am. And, by this, I mean: when I walk by a space, or see the size of a chair, I think I am small enough to fit through it or sit on it. And then I see photographs. And then I say: omygoodness, is that the size I am? Most viewings become one of those: “O-wow” moments.

So… continuing on the umpteenth and one diet — which I so name bcz it’s the diet I repeat, stop, repeat, stop, repeat, stop… until I’m sick to death of saying or thinking I really ought to go on a diet lose weight.

I had to make a dramatic assault and just “fast” a bit. It’s sort of the: “desperate times call for desperate measures” sort of dieting or eating (or not eating) pursuit. It’s the sort of resolve that comes along once in a very great while — the resolve to walk right on by the cookies and not eat a broken one. I mean, who are we kidding when we break off a piece of a cookie and think we’re going to just have that much? It’s the kind of resolve that made me pass the plate of pecan bars right on by last night. Had it been a “normal” day, I’d have taken one — well, you know: they were made by my neighbor and she did bring them over specially for us and she is seven months pregnant and she doesn’t bake that often and we were having Bible study and it was a nice evening and the squares were small and… and… and. And I passed them on by.

Many women battle weight. Or, really we think we do. But the reality is we don’t battle weight it’s that we don’t battle self. Self is the ugly glutton that only wants what self wants and doesn’t care what lies it has to tell or to what lengths it has to go to accommodate self. So, yes, we don’t have a weight or weightloss problem anymore than we have a speeding problem. We have a problem with eating too much, too often. And about speeding, that’s self just wanting to do what self wants to do no matter what the law says. But I’m thinking that the glutton self is harder to tame than the speeding self. There’s no policeman to curb the glutton or slap a ticket into the hand of the overeater and require the obese one to appear in court and be judged by a jury of peers. No… but self does play a very naughty trick. Self says: go ahead… you deserve it, you’re not so fat, you’ll lose weight, you’re not as bad as so-n-so, you’ve been “good” today (whatever that means!), yada yada yada. You da woman! And then… you give in and eat. Then self mercilessly mocks you and says you’re such a loser, such a poser, what kind of woman are you, anyway… such an incompetent bimbo — can’t you learn to control yourself?

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August 26, 2006 by pamela.

Today is day six of my Umpteenth and One diet. I don’t really know how many umpteen is, but I know it’s a lot. And I know it’s not specific, for I could never actually recall the actual diets I have attempted. I say attempted, bcz actually, I have never really strictly adhered to a diet. Well, maybe the Cambridge diet (I dunno—was that product recalled? did women die on that diet?) many years ago. That was the diet where a friend of ours (who was a rep of that company, by the way) came over and while he was eating at our table and drinking our coffee he told me I was so fat. Yea, really. I remember being so shocked at his bluntness and the candid expression of his thoughts. But then—in retrospect—I see that he was seeing me as I wasn’t seeing me. He was seeing that I was overweight and on a road I should never have been on and a road that would never be good for me. Plus, he did rep that product, by the way. I had just, six months prior, given birth to our second son. I wasn’t seeing myself as “that bad.” I wasn’t’ seeing the staggering results of that road should I continue to remain or travel it. I was thirty pounds overweight. It’s the same thirty pounds I have dropped off and picked up― dropped off and picked up several dozen times through the years in the course of a bunch of pregnancies and umpteen diets. Overweight’s not healthy… no matter how it might seem or how difficult it might seem to be to reverse. And thirty or twenty or ten pounds may as well be one hundred when the problem is out of control.

So, I was talking with two trusted friends… and I was telling them that I needed to get a food-divorce. I’m not ordinarily this flippant ― but I needed a strong description for the glaring problem I was/am facing. And as my friend rightly stated, that’s the only time or place I would use that term. One of the friends said it’s the only time she’d recommend to “leave that loser” and be free. I feel the same way. She and I are never glib or joke about marriage or men or husbands and so the divorce analogy is very finite and specific to this problem ― it breaks down immediately and therefore, I apply it in the strictest sense: I need to break the bonds I have with food and have a proper relationship or perspective of nourishment and tasty meals ― and I do see a right balance or right connection … I just need to get a handle on what that means for me. And I do see that the food relationship is different for or is as individual as people are. I’ve also had to get straight some what and why questions. The “What am I doing and why am I doing it?” sort of questions. This, by the way, pertains to both the eating/preparing food and the abstaining or limiting of the consumption of food. As the days go by, I’m seeing it’s not the food but the eater. When I hear someone say (or myself say), “I have a weight problem.” I think no, no, no… you (I) don’t have a weight problem, you (I) have a different problem. O, the weight may be a problem to you (me), but it’s a symptom of a problem, it is not the problem. The issue is gluttony… yes, it’s even a sickening word to type let alone possess the sin habit of gluttony. I gotta interject a big disclaimer here —sincerely— I *do not* believe all overweight is gluttony or due to gluttony. But this girl’s weight *is* and it’s this girl’s been convicted that such is the case.

Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize? So run, that ye may obtain. And every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible. I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air: But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway. 1Corinthians 9.24-27

I am genuinely working at setting my thoughts on Christ who strengthens me and who sustains me. For I have this peculiar relationship with food…. I eat it mindlessly, think I need it endlessly, think about its taste, origin, and mull over beautiful preparation and presentation and at the very same time don’t care much about it at all. Truth.

I smile at this train-wreck of thoughts bcz I’m much like my dad — my dad who didn’t raise me but who instilled in me (and my brother) a love for food — the planning, preparing and presentation of good food. My brother followed in footsteps he never actually witnessed while growing up. He pursued the same career though it was quite opposite the “growing up” life/training. Now there’s a nature/nurture conundrum — but that’s a topic for another day. Our dad was a cook, a chef, a restaurateur and food connoisseur. I think of him so often when I prepare specific things he taught me to make. I miss him… only knowing him in my adult life and seeing his passing way too soon. I can chuckle now… and ask… was it healthy to be overweight? Did it contribute to or hasten his passing? I need to end here for today… as I am nose-diving into an arena that is distinctly different than this post begin.

I am smiling as I think of a picture my brother gave me… that was our dad’s and is sort of a picture of his life (and ours). It hangs in my kitchen today. Eating carrots and reading a diet book… sitting in a bakery. Actually, the epitome of my dad would have been talking about a diet, eating something delicious. That, or dieting while holding a cookbook detailing sumptuous food preparation.

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August 23, 2006 by pamela.

And may I say… I love eBay? Well anyway… it’s fun to say I won another item. Actually, I’m not so sure Wes thinks I “win” items — for every time I win, he loses a little ~wink~ and adores me, I suppose. This time my purchase was a Christmas with Southern Living. I know… it’s funny that a girl who lives in the Northwest would prefer whatever is from the South (and, ahem, that would also include a bit of Southern California, btw). It’s my mama’s family, I suppose. I had wanted that particular book bcz I had read through it at our friend’s home a couple weeks ago. I liked the way some soups and breads were prepared. So… I googled the book when I came home… and, voilá! eBay.

I bid on the item… I watched, nervously wondering if I’d win the item that had no bidders, and then went to bed (the suspense was too much by morning!). While I was sleeping, I won the bid. O, and Wes was surprised when he opened his mail to see: congratulations…!

That was last week and yesterday afternoon, I was browsing through the new (to me) book that had just arrived in the mail and I was delighted with all the recipes! Recipes, recipes, recipes and *nothing* for this girl to eat!! This is still, in fact, the third day of my Umpteenth and One diet — I think I nearly gained five pounds just reading the recipes in the 2001 edition of the Christmas with Southern Living. Instead of trying anything, I just read and planned things I might make this fall. I *really* was looking at the dinner menus. Really. I’m sort of making an attempt to climb out of a rut of same ole-same ole meals and be more creative regarding dinnertime for our family. They deserve better and I should be doing better… after all, I *do* strongly advocate creativity and the family meal table!! I don’t want to be like a plumber with a clogged drain or a dentist whose kids have bad teeth or a pool guy with a green pool… ooops, that *did* happen!!

So, anyway… My husband has an entirely different palate than I do… I would eat a variety of salads, chicken, sweet tea, Mexican food or cereal at every meal (and the nine remaining children at home would join me happily!). He would eat fewer sandwiches, less Mexican food, no cereal, no graham-crackers ‘n milk, no sweet tea or plain tea tea, no cucumbers, or chile or baked beans, hushpuppies, or cottage-cheese-anything, grits, greens, hominy or any other things like that. But amazingly, and sweetly, when we do have a few of the above items when he’s home, he humours me and eats them―as if he loves them! He likes “home-style” cooking, Italian, and some Greek… a little Chinese and some more Italian.

He doesn’t ordinarily consider a sandwich to be dinner. Same goes for cereal, peanut butter on Ritz crackers and apples, or popcorn or chips and salsa… unless it’s a side accompanied by a chile relleno or a tamale.

So… it sort of cramps my creative style a tad bit. That, and I need to see pictures or need to have tasted the food somewhere before I can make it, bake it, cook it or serve it in our home. You would think after decades of melding our lives together, that we’d want to eat the very same things! I guess that’s why we love to go out to dinner… we try stuff we’d love to cook ourselves or stuff we don’t usually make at home—and we sample each other’s foods.

I received a nice letter regarding this Umpteenth and One diet… and a suggestion was made for the Carbohydrate Addict’s diet… and that’s actually sort of what I am doing now. A blend of that and SouthBeach. The Atkins’ was a bit too out of reach for me; it was a bit difficult to live in and cook for a large (in number) family—but that’s the diet I did a few years ago when I lost 30 pounds. The thirty pounds I didn’t know I had actually gained. The thirty pounds I gained and lost a couple of dozen times. I think we all do a sort of self preservation dance: O, I’m so fat—well, I’m not that fat; O, I need to lose weight—well, I know I can go on a diet tomorrow; O, maybe it’s not that much weight—wow! It *is* that much?!?!? Then… usually I’d do something about it—that, or I’d be pregnant and have all those well intentioned plans to not gain so much with that pregnancy… and the weight goes on…

So, I lost weight (again)—and at that point—that most recent diet, it was as if I purposefully sabotaged myself when I reached my goal-weight and the pounds slowly crept on over a couple of years. Then, when I wasn’t feeling so well before my surgery and in the sedentary months following that, I gained a few more. So, now, my goal weight is a tad bit more than it was then and when I get there, my goal is to stay there long enough to be “in control” at that weight and then perhaps lose 5 or 10. I appreciated that letter (thank you, Sheila) and the accompanying stunning “before-and-after” pictures… the pictures alone gave me hope as I saw before my eyes the beautiful, incredible, shrinking woman. That letter and Barbara Curtis’s wonderful progress are incentives to me to press on. Well, and so is this almost embarrassing candid public confession weblog. I am purposefully making entries… both to encourage other mothers and to humble myself to the reality that not only do I need to lose weight… I need accountability in doing so.

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August 22, 2006 by pamela.

Upon waking this morning, I realized I already faced a battle. A battle of my will, my flesh and my faith. I realized that before I even rose from the warm bed, that had allowed me comfort and safety through the night, I was faced with a tap from the that enemy I know so well but often fail to recognize until I’m engulfed in whatever activity the enemy has engaged me. The enemy is stronger than my determination, more powerful than my desire and more persistent than my resolve. I know the enemy’s name: it is self. So even before I set foot on the carpet I realized Self had been awake before I was conscious of the morning light. Self always seeks its own way.

And so I was faced with the decision to look to the LORD… to look to the hills, so to speak, from whence comes my help. I’ve sought to have my first waking thought to be of the LORD and so I called on Him—proclaiming His goodness and faithfulness, I stepped. I took another and another, fully realizing that in the dim morning’s light and the quiet of my home there was a battle raging and it was Self’s battle for my will, my attention and my affection. In that moment I realized, instantly, that the LORD Jesus, who had been my help through the day before, my Protector through the night and my Provision for the morning, was right beside me—was before me and was behind me. And I said to Him… O, LORD, I am weak and Self is more powerful than my will. Self’s lies are not from You; please help me to walk in faith, please help me to, in faith, follow You through this day.

……It’s only food. A little’s not going to do anything. You never stay on a diet anyway. Really, you don’t look that bad. You’re so vain. You tried all this before and sure, you did lose weight and it did feel good, but you did gain half of it back… and then some. You probably won’t make it…

Prayer is ruin’s remedy, doubt’s destroyer, the cure of all cares, the antidote to all anxieties, the grand panacea for all pains, and the golden key that can open the gate of mercy!” Charles Spurgeon

So I put my trust in God, I waited on Him and affirmed, surely He never leaves me nor forsakes me. I reaffirmed that through every moment of every moment the day previous, He was there. He was my strong tower, my refuge.

He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust. Surely he shalldeliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.” Psalm 91.1-3

I read and I read further. I pray and I sing: The LORD is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? The LORD is the strength of my life. Of whom shall I be afraid?

Teach me. O God, to use all the circumstances of my life today that they may bring forth in me the fruits of holiness rather than the fruits of sin.

Let me use disappointment as material for patience:
Let me use success as material for thankfulness:
Let me use suspense as material for perseverance:
Let me use danger as material for courage:
Let me use reproach as material for longsuffering:
Let me use praise as material for humility:
Let me use pleasures as material for temperance:
Let me use pains as material for endurance.”

John Baillie

So today is the second day of my umpteenth and one diet. I will trust in the LORD who only makes me dwell in safety… and who will deliver me from the noisome pestilence of Self.

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