What I've learned in 4 years...

I used to be thin.  I used to be active.  In my Junior year, we'd moved from Texas to St. Louis.  All my friends left behind... all my activities... no more swimming pool... no more eternal summers... no more kickball or cheer-leading practice or dances or spending the entire day at the mall.  My father fell ill.  My mom started a job and I came home from school and watched TV... talked with my dad... or when I'd get with my friends, we'd ride around in cars.  My metabolism hung on through my Junior year but by the summer before my Senior year, I started putting on a little weight.  My dad died.  Mom didn't make meals like she used to.  

When I went to college, I started noticing a lot of the girls got that Academic spread.  I was determined it wouldn't happen to me.  So I started riding my bike and I was really careful not to eat the junk.  I thinned back out.

Seems like every time I've figured out what to do to keep my weight down, it would work for a while but then some lifestyle change would come along and yank the rug out from under me... and everything would start unraveling again.

I come into work early.  6 A.M I start.  The call center doesn't start up until 7:30 so its usually just me in there until at least 7 and sometimes not until 8 because a lot of folks work from home.

Yesterday morning, a co-worker stopped by my cubicle.  "Hi Judi." I smiled.  I drown out the sounds of an empty room while I do my work with my earbuds and music from my computer.  I get a little jumpy.  I keep thinking I see things and I start concentrating more on what is not going on around me than what I'm doing.  So I smiled and gestured and said "Good Morning," and went back to what I was doing.

But she stopped and came over and sat in the empty chair by me.  She works in another department.  "We started a Biggest Loser's program in our department," she began.  "One of the women you used to work with said you'd lost quite a bit of weight."

"Yeah, half of me so far."

We talked about how hard it is to diet... to exercise when you're really heavy.  She told me that our mutual co-worker told her I'd been doing this three years.  Actually, it was 4. (http://rudysdailylife.blogspot.com/2011/04/making-some-changes.html) 

She asked how I kept the weight off. I had to change everything.  I stopped looking at a diet as a temporary fix that I was looking to get past. I told her that the only way she was going to be successful, was to change her whole way of thinking about food and eating and to change her family's eating habits along with hers.  

I mentioned how I never eat anything like cheeseburgers and fries anymore.  That its just not worth it to me.  

She looked like I'd hit her.   I know that feeling.  The "diet" is just for now... I explained, to stay thin, (funny but I haven't actually gotten there yet), you have to quit looking at everything as temporary.  It isn't.  It can't be.  The diet is the easy part.  The really hard part is maintaining.

I explained about condensed calories... and this is my favorite example.  A McDonalds Big Mac, large fries and a Soda, 1300 Calories.  18 Apples, 1300 Calories.  What in the world would make you eat 18 Apples?  If someone told you that you had to, you'd feel pretty desperate.  I can't eat all that!!  But I've most certainly eaten that meal.  



I've learned to count calories.  I've learned that I can eat a huge plate of vegetables or a huge bowl of Salad and consume very few calories if I leave off the butter and the cheese.  I've learned to appreciate food as a way to stave off hunger instead of as a way to fill an unfillable hole or as reward or as a substitute.  I've learned that I can add spice and heat and make my food delicious without making it calorie laden and that I reward myself with being able to bend over or squat down... because for a very long time, way too much time, I couldn't... I couldn't run... I couldn't stand for long periods of time.  I couldn't control my eating... and now that I am master over my appetite instead of being enslaved, that too is a reward.

I found these things on various websites... because its important for me to remember that I can eat three pounds of celery for the same amount of calories as 1.5 ounces of a Snickers Bar.  That I can change 2 whole apples for 2 slices of cheese or 7 little squares about the size of a dice.  I wanted to keep it where I can go back and look at it or share it the next time someone wants to know how I keep it off.  

Food can benefit my life or it can become an oppressive tormentor whose delicious favors appear rewarding but are, in reality, stealing away my life. 

What 200 Calories look like (taken from numerous sites)

Apples (385 grams / 13.5 oz ~ 2 Med apples)

Butter (28 grams / 0.98 oz or 2 Tblsp)

Broccoli (588 grams / 20.7 oz or 1 1/4 lb)

Snickers Chocolate Bar (41 grams / 1.45 oz  or 4/5 of a 1.85 oz bar.)

Cooked Pasta (145 grams / 5.11 oz or about a 1/2 C dry or about 1 C cooked)

Hot Dogs (66 grams / 2.33 oz- ewww)

Kiwi Fruit (328 grams / 11.6 oz or about 4 med)

Cheeseburger (75 grams / 2.6 oz or 1/2 of a McDonald's Double Cheeseburger)

Eggs (150 grams / 5.3 oz or 2 large eggs cooked with a teaspoon of butter)

Celery (1425 grams / 50.3 oz or 3 lbs)

McDonald's Apple Pie (62.3 grams / 2.2 oz 1 pie less 1/2 oz The whole pie weighs 2.7)

Mini Peppers (740 grams / 26.1 oz or 1 lb 10 oz)

Canned Black Beans (186 grams / 6.56 oz or about 3/4 of a cup)

Werther’s  Candy (46 grams / 1.6 oz or not quite 9 pieces)

Chic-Fill-A ChickenBurger (total calories is 440 so not quite half of this)

Dunkin Doughnut- Glazed (52 grams / 1.8 oz total calorie cnt of the doughnut is 230)

French Roll (72 grams / 2.5 oz)

Avocado (120 grams / 4.25 oz about 1 small)

Canned Sweet Corn (308 grams / 10.9 oz or a little over a cup)

Baby Carrots (570 gram / 20.1 oz or 1 1/4 lbs)

Canned Green Peas (357 grams / 12.6 oz or a cup and a half)

Canned Baked Beans (186 grams / 6.56 oz or about 2/3 of a cup)

Doritos (41 grams / 1.44 oz or about 22 chips)

Dried Apricots (83 grams / 2.9 oz or 10 pieces)

French Fries (62 grams / 2.2 oz or if you get the small fries at McDonald's, its 30 calories over the 200)

Fruit Loops Cereal (51 grams / 1.8 oz or about 1-3/4 Cup)

Grapes (290 grams / 10.2 oz or 3 -1/3 Cups)

Gummy Bears (51 grams / 1.8 oz They're 9 calories each so you can have 22)

Hershey Kisses (36 grams / 1.27 oz or 8 they are 25 calories each)

Honey Dew Melon (553 grams / 19.5 oz or 3-1/4 Cups diced ) Cantaloupe 3-3/4 Cups Watermelon, 4-1/2 Cups

Jelly Belly Beans (54 grams / 1.9 oz or 50 jelly beans)

Tomato sauce (226 grams / 7.97 oz)

M&M's (40 grams / 1.4 oz or 58 milk chocolate or 20 peanut)

Red Onions (475 grams / 16.75 oz or a pound)

Sliced Smoked Turkey (204 grams / 7.2 oz enough for a couple of sandwiches)

Coca Cola (496 ml / 16.77 oz or not quite a can and a third of another can)

Olive Oil (23 grams / 0.8 oz or 1-2/3 Tblsp)

Tootsie Pops (68 grams / 2.4 oz 3 are 180 Calories and 4 are 240)

Whole Milk (333 ml / 11.3 fl oz)

Balsamic Vinegar (200 ml / 6.8 fl oz)

Lowfat Strawberry Yogurt (196 grams / 6.9 oz-about 3/4 Cup )

Canned Chili con Carne (189 grams / 6.7 oz -about 3/4 Cup )

Canned Tuna  (102 grams / 3.6 oz or 60% of a can of Tuna)

Fiber One Cereal (100 grams / 3.5 oz or        1-2/3 cup)

Bread (90 grams / 3.17 oz Unless you eat Ezekiel bread... then its 2.5 slices of bread you can live on.)

Blueberry Muffin (72 grams / 2.5 oz  well it depends on the recipe, but the Starbucks Muffin, you get a little over half.)

Condensed milk (60 ml / 2.02 fl oz or 1/4 cup)

Whole Wheat Flr (60 grams / 2.1oz 1/2 cup)

Rice Cereal (54 grams / 1.9 oz or about 2 cups)

Wheat Cereal (53 grams / 1.87 oz 2 Cups)

Brown Sugar (53 grams / 1.87 oz about 1/3 C)

Salted Pretzels (52 grams / 1.83 oz or about 31 tiny twists 15 of the classic.)

Cheddar Cheese (51 grams / 1.8 oz about the size of a woman's thumb)

Potato Chips (37 grams / 1.3oz)

Sliced and Toasted Almonds 

(35 grams / 1.23 oz or 6 tblsp)

Peanut Butter (34 grams / 1.2 oz or ~2 Tblsp)

Salted Mixed Nuts    (33 grams / 1.16 oz or   3-1/3 Tblsp)

Balance

I was born in Asia… Japan specifically and spent three and a half of the formative years of my youth in Taiwan.  The woman my family employed to care for our home was a Catholic/Taoist.  She talked a lot about being in harmony with the way of yin and yang.  The thought that somehow the shady side of the emoji was balanced out by the sunny side was intriguing as a child. 

But the weight of oppression and angst presses hard on a world shakily balanced on the point of a hatpin.  And from my perspective the world appears dangerously out of balance and the shady swirl has taken a great deal more than its fair share of the circle that houses the two paisleys.

But still, the thought of it is intriguing, to contemplate that life, as an adept rope-walker balances expertly against the winds of controversy and catastrophe by disposing and persuading to and fro or side to side to eventually aright inequities and maintain a stance firmly planted upon so narrow a path. It is a lovely concept that you could compensate for ill temperament with kindness or that confusion could be set aright with extraordinary organization.  But ice does not compensate for fire, or drought for floods, nor peace for war.  Starvation is not balanced by gluttony and ignorance is not equalized by education.  They all exist simultaneously. And the dark overtakes the light until the lack of vision hurls an entire world into the abyss.

But there is no balance.  Not in this life.  Not in this world.  More often than not, you put forth maximum effort and get back minimal results.  Yet, if you put forth no effort at all, the consequences are usually staggering and affect you in every aspect of your life.  Alfalfa sprouts and quinoa do not balance out the accompanying Coke and fries. A day of gorging is not eradicated by a day of fasting.  A hug will not remove the pain of a slap and the birth of a child cannot replace the loss of one.  Good doesn’t bring evil nor evil bring good.  Life is naturally unbalanced. 

There is a yearning for stability in our lives.  We look ahead and see the darkness creeping forward and we see nothing around us that will bring the necessary light to hinder its approach.  Our hearts yearn for answers that will steady the listing reality. There is no occasion to disengage events already set in motion or to undo what has already been done.  That which is broken cannot be unbroken. That which is twisted cannot be made straight.  We move forward leaving things lost, broken, dead or destroyed, behind and try to stabilize.  It leaves fractures and fissures. It is widely held such scars make you stronger, but so often we simply adapt and learn to cope with the fragmented consequences of our existence. Where is the balance?

Solomon studied the inequities of life.  He did not conclude that it all balanced out.  He sought to use wisdom to discover the meaning of life and he discovered much grief and sorrow.  He pursued the procurement of pleasure but discovered instead disappointment and subdued the sting with spirits.  He pursued prominence in producing remarkable structures and gardens, amassing staggering treasure and innumerable assets and partaking of every conceivable form of pleasure, withholding not from himself a single desire. And though he saw advantage to wisdom and labor, the end of the matter, to all who live, fools and wise, deprived and prosperous, lethargic and productive, man or beast, they all lived and died.  Outside of God, mankind is no different than the beasts of the field.  His conclusion: Live and laugh in the moment. Enjoy what you can. God uses struggles to strengthen our character in an eternal realm.

With all this in mind, he reconsidered the gross inequities of life, the brutal oppressions and the lack of comfort for the vast majority of mankind. He saw that listening was better than speaking. Justice and judgment is superior to prominence. Understanding supersedes wealth and wisdom. Happiness comes not by proportion but by choice. Our mortality should press upon our minds to preserve us from corruption, for every man succumbs to death.  We should guard our good name our lips and our thoughts and avoid giving or taking offense, perceiving our own deficiencies. Those that fear God above all shall withstand in the end of days, even if the wicked prosper in this life. Choose to be happy and to create happiness in all circumstances as we cannot always know God’s immediate purpose. Fear God.  Keep His Commandments. It is the complete man. For God brings all into Judgment. 

Balance is used differently by God.

God speaks of being weighed in a balance, whether we look to keep His way or we walk after our own way.  His scales are set to weigh what our hearts are turned to, or what our eyes seek after.  He balances our actions and our integrity against the weight of seeking after His ways.  Balance is not attained by a mix of good and evil but by using good to overcome evil, by understanding that an action will bring a lasting consequence, and knowing that there is an eventual reckoning and a resetting of a man’s character into eternal realms.

Solomon could not see the balance of this life within the time frame of a man’s three score and ten but he did see that ultimately balance would be restored to a world off tilt.  It would be reset by choosing another way.  And that alone would restore balance.  

There is a way that seems right to a man, but the end of it is death.  And there is a way that leads to life.  We are to choose that way.  That way and only that way will balance an off-balance world 

Mom's "Potato Soup"

I remember 2 things about being sick as a little kid.  

1. Mom didn't clean up puke. If you made a mess, sick or not, you cleaned it up.
2. Potato Soup.

Number one memory is an effective deterrent to indiscriminate spewing .  

Put an 8 year old on cleaning up that mess just one time and they'll make it to the toilet.  They''ll get that miserable churning feeling and they'll hang over the toilet for an hour just waiting for it to happen so as not to be surprised in the middle of a restless sleep with projectile vomiting all over themselves, their hair, their bed clothes and their pillows, 

I remember the last time I heaved the ill-fated contents of my undigested meal in every direction but the bathroom  that mom walked in and saw my hair dripping with putrid globs and my bedclothes sprayed with gelatinous goo, and numerous puddles of vomitus maximus.  She looked around, gagged a couple of times and handed me a stack of clean sheets, a soapy bucket of Lysol water and a roll of paper towels.  When you get that all cleaned up take a bath and put on clean jammies and make sure everything gets put in the washing machine. She turned on her heel and walked out. I couldn't crawl in bed with my sister.  She'd just start yelling and Mom would return in bad humor.  

Its no less disgusting a job to clean up your own puke than it is to clean up someone else's.  Very effective tool.  To this day, I wait, sitting on the bathroom floor, head propped over the toilet for the inevitable eruption whenever I get that dreadful churning.  No last minute marathon sprints, trying to beat the barf.  I'm there, prepared, hair tied back, wash cloth near by, toothbrush and mouthwash at the ready. Mom would be proud.

The other thing I remember was when I'd get sick, she'd always make us potato soup.  It was warm and full of flavor and easy on the stomach and soothing to a body unable to digest anything. Nothing would sound good but she'd give us a small cup of homemade potato soup, just a little bit and you'd feel better, warmer and stronger.  

When I grew up and got married, I also made potato soup for my family when they fell prey to some sort of debilitating illness.  The best part is, its a very simple soup.  It was all fresh, natural ingredients and you can make it almost as fast as you can open up a can of soup.  Peel a few potatoes and cut into quarters, enough to fill 2/3's of a pot, any size pot, depending on how much you want to make.  Fill the other third with chopped onions.and chopped celery, Add salt, pepper, and a little paprika to taste and cover with water and a spoonful of chicken base or use chicken broth instead.  Cook it 20 minutes and blend in a blender.  Add butter.  Serve.Its also really good with a little bit of left over chicken and a spoonful of beer cheese stirred into it, topped with a few croutons, if you're so inclined.

I've recently made a few changes to mom's soup.  Mom would add a stick of butter to a big pot of soup,  I learned to add none when I'm watching calories.  I might add a blast of  I can't believe its not butter spray for flavor but usually I add hot sauce. And lately I've made one other change that doesn't effect the taste at all.  I no longer use potatoes in my "potato" soup.  I use a head of cauliflower. 

I'm not against potatoes but I try to limit my carbs and/or calories. I just made a pot tonight because my husband is feeling a little under the weather.  I was amazed how much it smelled like mom's potato soup.  

I also use an immersion blender.  Less mess and less likelihood of sustaining 2nd and 3rd degree burns trying to ladle boiling hot broth and vegetables into a blender and hold the lid on while it blended.  I recall at least once the lid blew off and my face and hands were dotted with little red blisters for at least a week.  After that I learned to never fill the blender more than 2/3's full.  

But its still a good tradition.  I think my daughter also makes the soup... and she still uses potatoes.  But she tried my mock potato soup and was also impressed.

I miss my mom.  Everyday I think of something I'd like to tell her, or ask her.  I think of something that she'd get a kick out of.  And I especially think of her when my husband says, "I'm not feeling well, I'm going to go lay down."

"I'll make us some potato soup for dinner."

Just like my mom used to make for me.

The Impractical Art of Loss

I just began maintenance again on my umpteenth session of HCG dieting.  I’ve lost track of how many sessions its been now.  I have officially lost more weight than I currently weigh, which means that more than half of me is gone. 

The weight loss is considerably slower and I often wonder what I might be able to do to speed up my metabolism without expensive experimental supplements.  I have come to the idea that slow and steady loss is acceptable.  I began to exercise thinking that might help.  Well, of course, it has helped.  Not so much on the scale but certainly in my well-being.  Its fun to be able to move about freely and to see the chair on either side of my hips when I sit down… if it’s a larger sort of chair.

I’m saggy…  like an anorexic elephant, whoa.  I doubt that can be fixed by exercise.  It isn’t pretty but I suppose it won’t hurt anything but my ego… I’ll live with that as an aide memoire to dissuade falling back into gastronomical depravity.  Although, I’m still outside the limits of being “normal weight,” I’m comfortably in a size 12, a considerable improvement on a size 3X and much improved on having to shop in the Women’s Section, W for the Wide Sizes. However, I’d like very much to actually weigh less than my husband or be a weight that I could say without feeling embarrassed.  Or have pants that are too small for him to fit into, instead of pants that would swallow him.

I have 25 lbs to go to get to MY goal weight.  It will disappoint the men in my life.  They’re looking for svelte. I’m looking for robust health and a stronger constitution. 

I do get a bit discouraged at the needle stuck on my scale, almost to the point of using a hammer to bust open the clear plastic cover and make sure its still in good working order.  I bought a digital scale as a back up… but no good news.  My hammer attack would only serve the purpose of retaliation for an honest report.

I guess that’s what happened to Adam and Eve.  Satan told them what they wanted to hear.  They didn’t really want the truth.  It’s a lot easier to settle for the lie.  If I fixed the scale to say I weighed 120, I’d have to go after the mirror… and where would it end? 

Bang, Bang Maxwell’s Silver Hammer…

Truth starts a rampage. 

I guess it always has.

an incomprehensible world

Part of my week day morning curriculum is to turn on NPR while I fix my hair and get dressed for work.  I’m rarely in agreement with their views as they report them but I’ve learned that no news media is unbiased in their observations and explanations as they relate the current events of the day.  The mindless drivel of most other stations is quite unusable for news and FOX network is incendiary propaganda at best, not that NPR is completely above incendiary remarks.

Although it is my chosen station of the morning, I cannot listen to it for long.  They’re more toned down, but still passively aggressive in putting forth their spin on the world as they want you to see it.  But, they offer a better likelihood of hearing news of the world, albeit peppered with progressive social mores, fueled by anti-Christian interpretations.  Often I find myself slamming it off… but every morning, I turn it back on in hopes of hearing something of what is going on beyond the social life of Hollywood.  I like to stay informed of where we stand globally, in this age of “as it was in the days of Noah.”

This morning, they reported on the ever increasing number of children crossing our southern borders unaccompanied by adults.  Some of them as young as 7 or 8.

I tried to comprehend that all morning.  I think back on my children at that age, how I tried to keep track of them.  How they always had to tell me where they were going and when they got there.  How I would panic if I didn't know where they were and all the time spent in locating them, to make sure they were safe.

I remembered a time when we were coming home from a 4th of July fireworks display in downtown St. Louis.  The crowds were so thick that my 14 year old twins kept getting separated from us.  My husband was holding our youngest on his shoulders and my daughter had looped her arm in her father’s.  I was surprised when I felt someone grab my hand and even more surprised to see it was my 14 year old self-reliant son who kept losing us in the crowd.

What must it take for a 7 or 8 year old child to walk from Honduras to the Texas-Mexican border without his parents?  What must have happened to him in his short life?

I get to work and pour through orders for inmates, purchased by friends and family members.  The ones that really get to me are the orders placed by the Father’s for their sons.  It makes me think of how we tie up our hopes and dreams in our sons and daughters.  We want the most, the best, the finest of everything for them.

We strain the budget for braces.  We storm the principles office on their behalf. We hunt down bullies.  We pray for them, intercede for them and try and assist them and as they enter adulthood, and beyond, we help them with their children, even as we age.  Our lives encircle theirs and we cannot fathom the emptiness that those who are unfortunate enough not to proceed them in death must suffer.  To lose sight of them as they fall into unshielded misfortune, unable to intercede on their behalf, unable to rescue them from the pronouncement of a shattering lapse in judgment, one would endure a devastation of inconceivable proportions.  All the pitfalls that we try and shield our progeny from, there are so many chances of failure available that you try so hard to avoid.  The hopes, the worries, the love, the shelter, the tears, the protection and training… and then you let them go so they can put it into practice, wringing your hands raw, hoping they're watching their step.

How is it that hoards of children leave their home and travel hundreds of miles to another country, unaccompanied.  The idea of it grieves me.

My youngest son stops by the house at the end of his work-day to pick up the wood from a tree that split in a storm last Friday.  As I helped him load the wood into his work truck, I got to thinking about how I was always looking for him when he was a child.  He would wander off from me in the mall.  He’d take off to go to the store to “buy gums.” He disappeared from me at Six Flags, the Zoo, parks, theaters, church, everywhere.  But I would have moved heaven and earth to find him… and bring him home.

We talked and loaded the wood onto his truck and then he drove away.  He’s expecting his first child, a son, this summer.  And I thought about the state of this world… a world where eight year old children find their living conditions so ruthless, so brutal, so disconcerting that they make a decision to leave everything behind in search of a better life.

I cannot wrap my head around that.

Shelf Life of Food

Flours Comparison Chart

borrowed from https://ggiswheatfree.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/flour-comparison-chart-31.png

The figures above are based on a serving size of 1/4 cup (4 Tb).   

Phase Two Re-Deaux

I started my diet right after Jenny left town.  It seemed like a good idea.  I was already about as depressed as I ever get, so I figured one more reason to feel down in the mouth wouldn’t really make me feel any worse.  Plus, I’d managed to put on almost 10 lbs since last session ended in March. 

Actually, I didn’t think that was too bad until I spent almost three weeks trying to take it back off AGAIN.  So instead of making some real progress this time, I think I’m going to fall in-between sizes and end up looking pretty frumpy in my "sort of too big" clothes… well, frumpier than I would have looked if I’d started off 10 lbs. lighter and managed to get into a size 14.

You know, one thing I’ve found, diet type snack food is

a.     Expensive   

b.    Time consuming to prepare. 

c.   Considerably less accessible 

I’m going to have to work on  a solution to this before next summer.  I’ve actually managed to find things that I really like as lower carb/calorie alternatives to the richer, calorie laden, carb burdened usual fare.  Still and all, the “Popchips and Genisoy chips, as tasty an alternative as they are, are costly, too costly to provide as a snack for 6 kids and all the accompanying adults, compared to buttered popcorn or a bag of Sour Cream and Onion Potato Chips… and well, a bag of opened potato chips needn’t worry about getting stale at my house.   Actually my daughter promised to make me homemade soft pretzels and I was going to drown them in cheese sauce… but she spared me the extra 5 or so lbs. by not making them. 

That was a good thing, right?

So… given the slower start, I started exercising in hopes to speed things along. It’s really a pathetic little 25 minute DVD that is low impact, and probably low effect as well, but at the end of it I’m huffing and puffing and I’m clapping with Debbie Sievers, congratulating myself for doing such a good job… Even though she tells me "good job" at the end of every session, so far, it never seems cheesy or over done.   

Unfortunately, instead of speeding up the weight loss, the reverse is occurring It appears the exercise seems to have slowed down the reduction process.  I know that my state of health is intricately more important than the numbers on the scale… and not really having moved anything about much for the last ten or so years, I know that at my age, I’m at risk for osteoporosis and high blood pressure, heart problems… etc.   So, after a couple of minor set backs, I’ve determined to stick with the program and suck it up with regard to the static scale.  At least I’m finally below where the cut off line is for Obese.  Now I just simply “overweight.”  Is it suitable to celebrate being “overweight?”  Everything is relative.

When Jenny’s kids were here, I was getting dressed and forgot to lock the door.  The children are not deterred by that.  They don’t knock.  They bust in and there you are in whatever state you’re in, and the only thing left to do is try and minimize the damage by closing the door behind them before the entire population of the house suffers exposure to your wrinkled birthday suit.  Dillon threw the door open as I had pulled up my underwear.  I reached over his smiling face and closed the door.  I’ve gotten more used to the humiliation of being surveyed by the little guys in a little less than optimum attire, but I always wish I’d locked the door.  “Yaya,” he says, surmising the obvious.  “You have a big fat butt.  Why, do you have a big fat butt?” 

I stood there and stared down at the little darling a moment.  For 2 plus years, I’ve been working on trying to rectify that… but here I am, over 2 years later, and I still have a “big fat butt.”  It's not as big or as fat, but I figured that wouldn't really impress him.  So I told him that Yaya ate too many cookies.  I find in these sorts of situations, its best to take the lumps and progress as fast as possible to the next subject... "Would you like Yaya to get you a cookie?"

Yesterday, I was doing my exercise program and the reverse crunches with my haunches up in the air in front of my mirrored closet and caught a look of my back end in the mirror.  And I heard Dillon standing there asking me why? “Why do you have a big fat butt?”  I got to laughing so hard I pretty much blew the last 5 minutes of the program.

I guess we all need a little Dillon to ask us, without guile, why is your butt so big… so when we’re struggling through a miserable workout, we can laugh through the end of it and be inspired to try and rectify that before next summer. 

I’m hoping the big fat butt won't really be an issue next year so, before he comes back and busts in on me next summer, I'm going to work on an answer as to why it is that I’m so wrinkled.

They're Back.

I have anticipated their arrival since last Sumner, when they all piled into their van and their father drove off down the street with them.  I stood and watched  until the van rounded the corner. I had no control over the tears but managed not to sob.Danny and Sarah took me and their kids to breakfast. When we got back, the house resonated a gnawing hollow quiet in stark contrast to the cacophony of chatter and laughter of a house filled to capacity just a few hours earlier.

Since that time I've waited for them...and last night they arrived.  We texted back and forth regarding the status of their current location for two long days and last night, when they told me they were on Muegge, I had to stand outside and watch for them to round that corner and my heart lept when I saw the light from their headlights art the bottom of the street.

They spilled out of the van like clowns out of a car at a circus.  They have  all grown so tall.  I hugged them all. We brought in the contents of the van...clothes, food, movies, and folks.  We toasted their arrival.  We ate and drank and the children emptied the contents of the toy box and distributed it over the entirety of the room.  We shared stories, opinions, news and quips. 

Day one. It's going to go by so fast.  We can't hold onto a moment. We only observe its passing and cherish the memories as we watch it disappear around the corner.  But today, I'm so excited that I woke up at six and went into each room just to drink in the reality of their arrival.  

Steve's making coffee.  I'm blogging.  But what I really want is to go inside and get the day started.  GET UP. We're running out of time.