No, I'm Not Pregnant, I'm Fat.

According to a few doctors on the internet I’m obese.  This is not a word I generally associate with myself.  I know I’m overweight.  My clothes size tells me that pretty damn regularly.  At my best, healthiest, felt like I could take on the word weight, I was a size twelve.  For someone five foot seven that was not a bad size and not a bad weight.  Sure, I weighed more than my sister who’s five nine, but we have different body types and different metabolisms and most importantly, different personalities.

See, I’m the woman who doesn’t mind hiking or biking, when I’m in shape and it won’t hurt me afterwards.  I like gardening and cooking and doing things for my house, shelves for the cats, dollhouses, repairing or upgrading electrical fixtures.  I’ve never been into sports. (It took moving to Texas and a husband who loves the Angels and Cowboys to even interest me in football or baseball.) I can’t stand basketball. I’ve been to two hockey games in my life, and I’ve never played sports unless forced to do so in gym class.  That’s what we born in the seventies kids call phys ed.  At least where I grew up.

I love reading. I love writing, sewing, and all things crafty and creative.  I love watching my husband playing video games and pointing towards treasure or that one of his characters is low on health.  None of the things I really like require me to do a lot of physical labor.  Which is fine.  Except I’m not in my twenties anymore and it’s hard for me to bounce back, weight wise, when I start to gain a few pounds.

Over the years I’ve gained weight when I was in a bad marriage and desperately unhappy.  I lost it again when I decided that a diet was a good idea, boosted by some OTC pills that helped me develop a healthier eating style by controlling my appetite so I wasn’t starving and sabotaging myself.  I gained it back during a crazy time in my life when we moved and I got a new job and had no time for exercise.  I lost it again by going on South Beach and really sticking to it.  And over the last ten years I’ve slowly gained it back.  The doctor’s scale, evil truthful thing that it is, tells me I weigh two hundred twenty three pounds.  This is fully dressed with my shoes on so I can maybe take three pounds away.  But I’m back to my heaviest weight again.  I’m in my forties and it’s not coming off so easily this time.

 
It’s depressing.  Feeding the depression is the expenses the go along with the weight gain.  Clothes that fit, but make me look pregnant. (Hence the title of this blog.)  Medications to control the side effects of the weight like bad (really bad) cholesterol levels.  The constant worry that my blood sugar will get so screwed up I’ll be the first person in my family to be diabetic that isn’t related by marriage. 

I can take steps to work on the weight and accompanying problems that go along with it.  And objectively I know that a lot of things contributed to my weight gain.  A job that was so stressful and so far away that I spent more than two hours in the car per day and at the end of a ten year stint I was using most of my vacation time for doctor’s appointments than to relax.  A boss that was so passive aggressive and just unkind in her treatment of only me that I’m still on anti-anxiety medication and still don’t get a full night’s sleep.  There’s nothing more aggravating than knowing you’re sabotaging yourself and you can’t stop doing it. 

Nothing I tried worked to solve those problems.  My schedule was so erratic that public transportation was nearly impossible.  Some members of HR could see the issue clear as day.  The HR manager could not.  And the last ditch effort of requesting mediation and a formal complaint came to nothing but the HR manager and my own boss ganging up on me and saying that it’s all a misunderstanding and misinterpretation on my part. 

One of the biggest steps, and something my doctor has been saying for two years now, is reducing stress and changing jobs.  Which I’m happy to say I’ve done.  It means starting over in a lot of ways.  It’s a lower wage, fewer benefits and a smaller company.  But its five minutes away from my house.  It has a small open office of friendly, kind people.  And when I take out all the expenses working at the old place would pile on me, the wages are a lot more doable.  In a year I’ll get a week of vacation.  We’re working on a 401K and improving the procedures.  And I get to talk to people in the office again, about work and anything else, without feeling like someone’s going to come and verbally/emotionally smack me around for doing so.

It took a while to get here.  I’m not even officially employed by my company yet.  After some time off to deal with the medical issues and realizing that there was no way I could go back to the old job and remain sane, forget about healthy, I told them I could not come back.  Putting my resume online got a couple of recruiters calling me, and after a few false starts, a contract job.  The contract job is leading to permanent employment and the great office I get to come and work at every day.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s still work.  I would not do this for free.  But for the first time in ten years I haven’t had to fill up my car with gas twice a week.  I can brown bag it for lunch because I don’t need to escape.  I can ask questions and not be ridiculed for not knowing the answer.  We refinanced the house, paid off the 401K loan and had extra left for a credit card payment.  That puts my wage into an area that really is almost the same as my previous take home pay.  And I can breathe. 

I’m also told how cute I look in my dresses and that feels good.  So it stings when a ten year old at the nail salon asks when my baby will be born and I have to tell her that I’m not pregnant, I’m fat.  But it stings a little less.  I’m forty four years old this past May and I don’t like the weight I’m at.  But I’m learning to give myself a break and take the small steps I can.  Cutting down on alcohol, no mayo or ketchup, avoiding extraneous carbs and trying to be more physical with my daily routine.  It took me ten years to get to this weight. It’s not going to go away overnight.

Maybe I’ll never get back to my size twelve again.  But at forty four, a fourteen isn’t so bad.  At forty four, the excessive weight isn’t healthy, but it’s only ninety pounds.  That doesn’t even qualify me for weight loss surgery. 

So no, I’m not pregnant.  Yes, I am fat.  But ten years of stress doesn’t go away in two months.  And neither does ten years of weight gain.  But in spite of those two facts, I feel happier and healthier than I have in a decade.  My husband (dear delusional man) still thinks I’m beautiful.  My parents are excited for the new opportunities I’ll have.   And I’m finally writing again.

No, life’s not perfect.  But I’ll take it.

Dirty Water

So this isn't a dollhouse post. Fair warning those of you who think of this as a fun blog. 

And the reason for the post title is about to become apparent. Mahatma Gandhi said:

"You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty."

He was right.  Absolutely.  And remembering that from day to day is one of the hardest things I've ever done.  I try not to listen to the news, and I avoid talk radio except for a few shows.  Everything is overwhelmingly negative.

And I feel like I'm surrounded by dirty water.  I know that I'm not but what I know and how I feel are two entirely different things.

It's a beautiful day, not too hot, not too cold and I'm furious with the world.  For many unreasonable reasons like forgetting my wedding rings because I didn't want to snag my tights, to the Bill Cosby rape scandals, to the events in Ferguson last night.

And then I read this blog post by the incomparable Bloggess.  http://thebloggess.com/2014/11/compassion-is-painful-thats-how-you-know-its-working/ Go ahead and read it now. I'll wait. Because she's a lot classier than I am.  And she's also completely right.

I seem to have lost most of my own words today.  And maybe that's a good thing because Mom always said if you can't say something nice don't say anything.  I tend to forget that when I get on a roll of sarcastic complaints and jibes at the various things that annoy me.

And then someone like Jenny blogs and I remember that there are people in the world who have much tougher life than me and while I might complain, good humoredly but still complaining, there are folks who have a lot more to complain about and they're going about their business.  So let's all take a deep breath and remember what we're thankful for.

I've got a great husband who loves me in spite of my miniature/writing/reading/shopping addictions, or maybe because of them (who knows why but he does and that's the point).  I've got five cats now and they're all getting along reasonably well even if the kitten is a needy little attention sponge. (I think that's a default setting for kittens so yeah that one's my own fault for rescuing him.) I've got a job that shows no signs of firing me even when I zone out becasue I'm ill and want to do nothing but sleep.  And it pays me very decently so I can afford the aforementioned addictions.

I've also got people around me.  And they're pretty damn cool.  So yeah, I think I'll count my blessings and put a check in the win column for today.  Because I made it out of bed this morning after a lousy night and nothing bad happened on the way to work.  I've got half an hour to trowel on my make up so I don't scare my coworkers and I'm awake enough to write when I haven't had caffiene yet.  (Okay, true miracle folks!)

We've all got problems.  But a lot of times we're our own problem. Bright side is we're usually our own solution.  And if we look hard enough there are people out there who are happy to offer a hand, a smile or even a story that will make you laugh and cry at the same time.  No man is an island after all, even if it feels like it. 

Because Gandhi said this too:

"Before the throne of the Almighty, man will be judged not by his acts but by his intentions. For God alone reads our hearts.... The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong." 

So maybe the trick is to deal with my own problems and trust that somehow other people will deal with theirs.  And forgive myself when I get so wound up that I end up writing posts like these. 

And because they always cheer me up, here's a cat picture. Okay a few...including the new kitten who is...totes adorable!  BTW he's been christened Cap'n Jack Sparrow because he walks just like the character.  You know...like he knows why the rum is gone.

Watcha doin'?

There's a joke here about letting the cat out of the bag, but Tali's too young to understand.  And Helo just likes the camera.

Yeah we're on your bed, taking over your blankets.  What are you gonna do about it?  We're adorable and we won't be moved.

Hi! We were sleeping when Mommy took this picture... Can we go back to sleep?

I love my sissies.  They're the awesomest!

 On that cheerful note, I'm going to put on my face, for the sake of my poor coworkers who deserve a lot better than my bitch face this morning. 

And one last quote for the road.  Same guy.

"Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one's weakness. It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart."

Soooo Not the Point. So Now We have the Rules

So I read this quote the other day that apparently Fashion Bloggers just love.  'In order to be irreplaceable one must always be different' - Coco Chanel.

I will try to phrase my reaction (to quote the great David Ogden Stiers) as eloquently and succinctly as possible.

Bullshit.

Maybe that worked for Coco Chanel.  But I ain't her.  I'm irreplaceable because I'm me goddammit and there won't ever be another me, not even if they work out cloning.  We are all the crazy combination of nature and nurture.  As such, we are all different, we are all individuals, we are all unique.  There's no need to work at it. 

These days everybody aspires to be unique.  Everybody wants to be special.  And not normal special where you're loved and appreciated by the people who matter to you.  No, people want to be famous special, or rich or whatever...

I am the first to admit that I am a plenty screwed up individual.  I maybe drink more than I should at times, say things that could be misconstrued if you don't know me, and tend to live in my head an awful lot.  I also will do just about anything for my friends, love my husband to death, and take care of my cats better than I do myself.

So here's an idea folks.  Lets not aspire to be unique. I've got some new rules.  Ready? Yeah, me neither but here goes anyway.

1) Do not aspire to be unique.  Unique is wonderful but it can also be a pain in the ass. Unique seems to translate to prima donna and nobody likes to be around that.  I'm not saying unique is bad, we're all unique really.  But making a point of it? That's kinda stupid.

2) Aspire to be yourself.  No one is exactly the same, nature and nurture combine to create (in the words of Star Trek) infinite variety in infinite combination.

3) Get to know who you are.  Figure out what makes you...well you.  What do you like? What do you love?  Who do you want to be when you grow up?

4) Enjoy your life. This is a free ride and there are plenty of ups and downs.  But if you aren't at least trying to enjoy it why bother?

5) Give yourself a break if you haven't done everything you think you should.  Who says you should have a doctorate by the time you're thirty?  Why does everyone think they should own a house?  Who made up these standards anyway?

6) Take responsibility for the things you've done good and bad.  I've screwed up.  I've made mistakes at work, at home, just about everywhere possible.  Admitting it and trying to fix what you've done is the best thing you can do.  In the end, I've got to believe that I'm leaving more good in the world than I am bad.

7) Remember that being human means that you are not perfect and only a moron would expect you to be.  That doesn't mean you can get away with doing less than your best every day.  You have a responsibility to yourself to do your best.

8) Find something you like about yourself and remember it.  Its really easy to feel that we can't do anything right when everything in life is going wrong.  You know, work suddenly sucks, you're exhausted, you've overweight, you don't want to get out of bed.  But if you like yourself? Or at least something about yourself...that can really get you through the day.

9) Being yourself is no excuse for being rude.  Yeah you all heard me.  I accept that you are a unique and distinctive individual and I treasure you as such but that doesn't mean you get to treat me like I'm dirt.  Manners are the best way we have of showing courtesy and consideration for those around us.  If we're all polite to each other, even if the worlds coming to an end, at least we're trying to show some decency to others.

10) Ignorance may be bliss, but its no excuse.  Yep.  Sorry folks, but if you don't know something. Ask. Don't pretend you know and then get yourself in more trouble.  Somebody said the world is made for fools and the unaware.  Well as one of the aware who often has to clean up and or deal with the mess leftover from the unaware/ignorant, educate yourself and save us all a lot of trouble?

So that's it.  Those are my rules.  They might need to be tweaked some or maybe you don't agree with them.  But that's okay.  They're mine and they work for me.  If they work for you, that's great.  If they don't...make up your own rules.

Just remember, this is America.  I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.  Unless you're yelling fire in a crowded theatre. That's stupid and wrong and you'll be prosecuted.

Oh, and I fixed the comments so if you want to you can comment on this even if you don't have a Blogger account or a google thingy or whatever.  So go on now and tell me how smart I am.  Or how much you disagree. 

I'm waiting...

Actually I'm not.  I'm going to get ready to go see Prometheus.

Getting Ahead of Myself

Anyone who knows me can tell you I'm not the most patient person in the world.  Really.  Ask ANYONE who works with me or is related to me.  Heck, ask my cats, I'm sure they have an opinion. (Anybody who has cats can tell you they always have an opinion whether you want to hear it or not.)

Maybe I should clarify.  With some things I have no patience; traffic, restaurants (though I'm minutely better than my husband) rude people, stupid people, computers...the list goes on and on. You get the idea.  And for this I don't really apologize.  I go through life making every attempt to obey the law, be polite and considerate, and pay my bills.  I expect others to do the same and I'm disappointed quite a bit these days.  Turn signals are a thing of the past, no one uses their inside voice in restaurants (maybe I should say that the outside voices are the new inside voices) and everyone seems to have given their children carte blanche to behave badly.

Is it any wonder I like to stay home and plan things to do that involve minimal outside contact?

I do have patience with some things.  For instance I know that unless I'm Tony Stark a dollhouse isn't built in a day.  I can happily spend days sewing tiny jointed teddy bears by hand.  I spent months making doll clothes for my niece's doll. (Actually that required my husband's patience more than mine, but you get the idea.)

That doesn't mean that I don't put the cart before the horse now and then.  See the dollhouse is still in its two boxes.  I'm still trying to figure out the dimensions for the protective/display case to keep the dollhouse in. (Yeah that sentence was grammatically ugly, I know, get off my back.)  And yet...I've now purchased two dolls and another piece of furniture for the dollhouse.  The results of my folly are displayed below.

A nice Victorian lady.

See, a very nice Victorian man.

I only had one bureau and the bedroom is pretty big soo...

So now I am resolved that I'll at least get the measurements of the case figured out and possibly the materials purchased for the case.  The dining room table is mostly cleared off and my next cleaning project is my desk so hopefully I'll be able to make a good start on the case.

See what I mean? Cart before the horse. No patience... Eh, what's life without whimsy right?

But I am pretty excited about some other stuff I bought.  Had this great idea for hats...for the dolls in the dollhouse... see the lady doll I bought has removable clothes...so wouldn't it be nice that she have a new hat?  Something in keeping with the Texas climate I think... Hmm...

Yeah... I know.  For someone with an Associates degree in Accounting I really don't seem too organized do I? 

I never claimed to be normal. Or sane.

But at least I'm not boring.