For the past few weeks I've been working with KSL on a very personal story, and last night it aired.
Most of you will know by now that I have bipolar disorder — but as you can tell from reading my blog, I'm a pretty happy person. Happiness and mental illness are not contradictory, nor are they mutually exclusive. That's why I wanted to share my story: To prove that no matter what challenge you face, it is possible to find peace and joy and make a good life for yourself. It is not easy and it takes an enormous amount of work every day, but it's worth it.
Here it is:
ksl.com - There is life beyond bipolar diagnosis
Friday, July 29, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
I can do amazing things
Women and weight loss. It's a combination that's more parasitic than complementary. When undertaking any sort of get-fit program, if you're like me you spend 5% of your time devising a plan you can live with, 10% of your time acting on it, 15% of your time justifying why you haven't stuck to it, and the rest is spent bemoaning your size and shape and every little failure you've ever had.
The other day I was looking at photos of me in the hospital when Evan was born. While no woman looks good after giving birth, I've found particular disgust in my photos.
This is the result of 36 hours of labor followed by a C-section, and what feels like 5 gallons of IV fluid:
He is the most beautiful, perfect thing ever, and I'm a blimp in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.
This is the one time a woman is allowed to look like she's been through hell and back, because she has, and all for the most noble cause in all mankind. I know this and I truly believe this—so why am I so ashamed of how I look in these photos?
It made me realize, if I can't look beyond my own appearance after undertaking such a grueling and miraculous feat, I have bigger image issues than I thought.
I may not be an Olympian or have a runner's body or resemble my former beauty queen self again. But I can do amazing things. Here are just a few:
Rest assured, I am not abandoning my goal of being healthy and fit. I am simply choosing to reframe my quest. Instead of keeping track of every failure and bump in the road, I will be proud of what I do accomplish and vow to do my best every day. Even if I haven't reached any big fitness goals for the day, I will look for the positive in all things and stop overlooking the efforts I continually make to be a good person and make someone's life a little better.
Now, for a little perspective. I was not made to look like this:
The other day I was looking at photos of me in the hospital when Evan was born. While no woman looks good after giving birth, I've found particular disgust in my photos.
This is the result of 36 hours of labor followed by a C-section, and what feels like 5 gallons of IV fluid:
He is the most beautiful, perfect thing ever, and I'm a blimp in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.
This is the one time a woman is allowed to look like she's been through hell and back, because she has, and all for the most noble cause in all mankind. I know this and I truly believe this—so why am I so ashamed of how I look in these photos?
It made me realize, if I can't look beyond my own appearance after undertaking such a grueling and miraculous feat, I have bigger image issues than I thought.
It's time to shift my point of view. From now on:
I will not measure my life by its low points. I will celebrate myself for the amazing things I have done and will continue to do.
I may not be an Olympian or have a runner's body or resemble my former beauty queen self again. But I can do amazing things. Here are just a few:
- I conceived, carried and gave birth to a healthy child.
- I can soothe and care for this child when he is hurt, angry, tired or scared.
- I am a caring friend and can make others feel validated and understood.
- I can laugh and find happiness in life even when everything seems broken.
- I have faith that everything will turn out well and I can persevere in times of crisis.
Rest assured, I am not abandoning my goal of being healthy and fit. I am simply choosing to reframe my quest. Instead of keeping track of every failure and bump in the road, I will be proud of what I do accomplish and vow to do my best every day. Even if I haven't reached any big fitness goals for the day, I will look for the positive in all things and stop overlooking the efforts I continually make to be a good person and make someone's life a little better.
Now, for a little perspective. I was not made to look like this:
Or this:
Or this:
I was made to look like this:
Happy, healthy, and getting a kick out of life.
Most importantly,
I was made to be this:
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
...and we're back, baby!
The Lake Powell vacation is over, but I'm happy to say it was not full of regret — just good old fashioned fun in the sun. We got off to a rough start, what with a sinking jet ski crash landing us on the world's worst beach and a baby enraged over the lifejacket scenario. But the rest was great, albeit a bit exhausting. It takes work wrangling that kid of mine, but it was so fun to relax with family and enjoy the gorgeous scenery I've missed so much.
I'm also happy to say I don't look as bad as I thought in a swimsuit. True, I am far from the best shape of my life, and this cocoa butter stuff isn't doing jack for the stretch marks. But whatever size I am, I'm glad I have an hourglass figure so I at least look like a woman, not a flat 12-year-old boy or a burly linebacker dude. There are always things to be happy about, and I'm choosing to be happy about the fact that I am healthy and curvy the way Marilyn Monroe did us all proud!
Speaking of healthy, I'm back on the smoothies and balanced eating, and getting over soda once again. And for whatever reason, despite eating out while on vacation, I came home a few pounds lighter — back down to 153! It must be all that aforementioned child wrangling I do. Nice!
Now that I'm home and used to the full-time mom thing, I'm getting active again. Here's one way I weave it into our daily routine:
I wear my baby while I tidy the house. As you can see, he's a big fella — about a third the size of me (not in weight yet, thank heavens). This picture doesn't truly do him justice, though. There's a reason we call him Moose and Stout Lad. To wit:
See the enormous diaper? We have to buy him a size 5 to be big enough to fit around his monstrous thighs, which we affectionately call his "thunders." And yes, I will admit he gets that from me. Poor thing.
He's also a physical challenge for me because he's incredibly strong and insanely determined. When he has decided to climb you using your hair as a rope, it nearly takes the jaws of life to pry him off. He's started "giving kisses," which I put in quotation marks because it's actually a face mauling. It's adorable and so endearing, but seriously, when he catches me off guard he yanks my head so hard I feel my neck pop. Yowza.
So needless to say, I'm keeping busy. I have some fresh determination and a better handle on my new situation, and life is good. I'm ready to get back in action and start fighting the fat!!!
I'm also happy to say I don't look as bad as I thought in a swimsuit. True, I am far from the best shape of my life, and this cocoa butter stuff isn't doing jack for the stretch marks. But whatever size I am, I'm glad I have an hourglass figure so I at least look like a woman, not a flat 12-year-old boy or a burly linebacker dude. There are always things to be happy about, and I'm choosing to be happy about the fact that I am healthy and curvy the way Marilyn Monroe did us all proud!
Speaking of healthy, I'm back on the smoothies and balanced eating, and getting over soda once again. And for whatever reason, despite eating out while on vacation, I came home a few pounds lighter — back down to 153! It must be all that aforementioned child wrangling I do. Nice!
Now that I'm home and used to the full-time mom thing, I'm getting active again. Here's one way I weave it into our daily routine:
I wear my baby while I tidy the house. As you can see, he's a big fella — about a third the size of me (not in weight yet, thank heavens). This picture doesn't truly do him justice, though. There's a reason we call him Moose and Stout Lad. To wit:
See the enormous diaper? We have to buy him a size 5 to be big enough to fit around his monstrous thighs, which we affectionately call his "thunders." And yes, I will admit he gets that from me. Poor thing.
He's also a physical challenge for me because he's incredibly strong and insanely determined. When he has decided to climb you using your hair as a rope, it nearly takes the jaws of life to pry him off. He's started "giving kisses," which I put in quotation marks because it's actually a face mauling. It's adorable and so endearing, but seriously, when he catches me off guard he yanks my head so hard I feel my neck pop. Yowza.
So needless to say, I'm keeping busy. I have some fresh determination and a better handle on my new situation, and life is good. I'm ready to get back in action and start fighting the fat!!!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Failure, regret and Lake Powell
Throughout my childhood and teen years, a week-long trip to Lake Powell has been an annual tradition. It's one of my favorite vacations, and probably one of my favorite places in Utah. I love almost everything about it—even the over-like heat. It's the perfect place to lounge, unplug and make happy memories.
In my late teens and early 20s, Lake Powell took on another meaning: It became a deadline. As spring neared and I had to face the winter weight I'd so carelessly packed on, I would vow to lose it (and maybe a little bit extra) by the time the Lake Powell trip came around.
I never did.
To be clear, I've gained and lost weight with some regularity over the past 10-plus years, so it isn't that I've never been able to slim down at all. In fact, I worked really hard before each pageant I competed in and always felt proud of myself during that brief but all-important swimsuit competition.
This is different. For whatever reason, this one weight loss deadline I've continually set is the one deadline I have never, ever made.
This year is no exception.
Soon I will go on my first Lake Powell trip since I met Aaron, and although my life is entirely different than in trips past, this state of failure and regret remains the same. Although I have made respectable progress in the course of this blog, my decision to go AWOL comes at the worst time. I've lost all my baby weight, true, but the little bit extra I also lost has come back. What's worse, since I've been heedlessly chugging soda the past month, I am bloated like a beached whale. Needless to say, I am not in fantastic swimsuit shape. I KNOW I could have—and SHOULD have—done better.
Life will go on and I know I will still have a wonderful time on this trip, but I can't help be saddened by my own failings, yet again. It's not so much that I've had a few ill-timed bumps in the road; it's that, once again, I have let my complacency get the better of me and failed to meet yet another goal, one that I desperately wanted to make.
In my late teens and early 20s, Lake Powell took on another meaning: It became a deadline. As spring neared and I had to face the winter weight I'd so carelessly packed on, I would vow to lose it (and maybe a little bit extra) by the time the Lake Powell trip came around.
I never did.
To be clear, I've gained and lost weight with some regularity over the past 10-plus years, so it isn't that I've never been able to slim down at all. In fact, I worked really hard before each pageant I competed in and always felt proud of myself during that brief but all-important swimsuit competition.
This is different. For whatever reason, this one weight loss deadline I've continually set is the one deadline I have never, ever made.
This year is no exception.
Soon I will go on my first Lake Powell trip since I met Aaron, and although my life is entirely different than in trips past, this state of failure and regret remains the same. Although I have made respectable progress in the course of this blog, my decision to go AWOL comes at the worst time. I've lost all my baby weight, true, but the little bit extra I also lost has come back. What's worse, since I've been heedlessly chugging soda the past month, I am bloated like a beached whale. Needless to say, I am not in fantastic swimsuit shape. I KNOW I could have—and SHOULD have—done better.
Life will go on and I know I will still have a wonderful time on this trip, but I can't help be saddened by my own failings, yet again. It's not so much that I've had a few ill-timed bumps in the road; it's that, once again, I have let my complacency get the better of me and failed to meet yet another goal, one that I desperately wanted to make.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Whew! It's been a crazy couple of weeks, to say the least. Rest assured all is well. In fact, things are better than "well"—they are fantastic. But first, to recap:
At first I was AWOL because I hurt my knee (I have no idea how, but it's been killing me) so working out has been shelved. Then I was absent out of shame because it was my birthday and I lived it up for a few days, eating anything and everything and not feeling guilty for one second. But when I woke up the day after my birthday, oh BOY was I feeling it. My body isn't used to eating all that junk anymore and it was really mad at me. I was so sick the entire day. I can honestly say I do not want to make that mistake again!
Now, the main reason I've been gone and the reason why things are fantastic: There are some changes around here. As of today I am officially a work-from-home mom, and I am ecstatic!
I've been agonizing over my job for weeks now. I have really, REALLY loved it, but as my baby has gotten older it's gotten a lot harder. My schedule is different every day, which was fine when he was a newborn and slept most of the time. But now that he's older things have changed.
Not only does Evan need the stability of having a routine and a predictable schedule, he needs a mom who isn't so divided, both mentally and physically. Instead of enjoying my time with him before heading to work, my days turned into one big checklist and I was rushing him through everything that had to be finished before we got out the door. He was unhappy and just wanted Mommy, but I couldn't even be there for him when I was physically there.
I knew I couldn't do that to him and I had to make a change, but since I couldn't make my current job fit my family's needs I had to step back. I am still an on-call employee and get to manage my special section of the website, which is awesome, but I am no longer on the schedule. Instead I am a work-from-home editor for a variety of news outlets, and so far I am loving it. He's happy, I'm happy, we're all happy. I know it won't always be sunshine and roses, but I know this was the best decision for our family and it's all for the sake of ensuring my child has a loving and stable home. Who could ask for more?
So... Now that I'm at home full time, the task is at hand: Making exercise a daily part of our routine. I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing for a few days until I get the hang of our new situation, but I'm really excited to essentially have a blank canvas to work with, never again to rush through a task or forsake a goal just to get to work on time.
Life is good :)
At first I was AWOL because I hurt my knee (I have no idea how, but it's been killing me) so working out has been shelved. Then I was absent out of shame because it was my birthday and I lived it up for a few days, eating anything and everything and not feeling guilty for one second. But when I woke up the day after my birthday, oh BOY was I feeling it. My body isn't used to eating all that junk anymore and it was really mad at me. I was so sick the entire day. I can honestly say I do not want to make that mistake again!
Now, the main reason I've been gone and the reason why things are fantastic: There are some changes around here. As of today I am officially a work-from-home mom, and I am ecstatic!
I've been agonizing over my job for weeks now. I have really, REALLY loved it, but as my baby has gotten older it's gotten a lot harder. My schedule is different every day, which was fine when he was a newborn and slept most of the time. But now that he's older things have changed.
Not only does Evan need the stability of having a routine and a predictable schedule, he needs a mom who isn't so divided, both mentally and physically. Instead of enjoying my time with him before heading to work, my days turned into one big checklist and I was rushing him through everything that had to be finished before we got out the door. He was unhappy and just wanted Mommy, but I couldn't even be there for him when I was physically there.
I knew I couldn't do that to him and I had to make a change, but since I couldn't make my current job fit my family's needs I had to step back. I am still an on-call employee and get to manage my special section of the website, which is awesome, but I am no longer on the schedule. Instead I am a work-from-home editor for a variety of news outlets, and so far I am loving it. He's happy, I'm happy, we're all happy. I know it won't always be sunshine and roses, but I know this was the best decision for our family and it's all for the sake of ensuring my child has a loving and stable home. Who could ask for more?
So... Now that I'm at home full time, the task is at hand: Making exercise a daily part of our routine. I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing for a few days until I get the hang of our new situation, but I'm really excited to essentially have a blank canvas to work with, never again to rush through a task or forsake a goal just to get to work on time.
Life is good :)
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