"Good Enough" is Good Enough for Me!

I am now one week away from "my new birthday," as some of my OH buddies have dubbed surgery day.  In an effort to get ready for the monumental change that is about to occur, I have been scrambling to clear my plate of all the extra jobs, duties, tasks and favors I have picked up over the years.  Turns out there are a bunch of them. I didn't realize I was such a joiner until I started resigning from the committees I'd been serving on.  There were about 12 of them, it seemed.  Turns out I wear many different hats!

The hat that's been taking over most of my time the last few weeks is that of yearbook advisor.  Me and my trusty editor have been hacking away at placing photos, editing copy and basically trying to produce a yearbook that doesn't suck.  Will we be successful?  Your guess is a good as mine.  As the year has worn on, I've let the kids have more control over the design and layout of the book.  While it makes it look less professional, it does allow the kids a bit more investment in the final product.  And amazingly, I have not died.  Could it be that I do not have to control every last detail???

As I'm whittling down my time commitments, I'm beginning to realize the beauty and value of "good enough."  I am a chronic overachiever.  Up until now, everything has had to be exactly perfect.  Why?  I guess because I wanted to be impressive.  I've preached the evils of "good enough" in the past.  But, suddenly, "good enough" seems pretty darned ok with me.  As long as my kids are fed, groomed, tended to and loved and my students at school are not running wild in the hallways, I think I can be ok with "good enough."  I've spent the better part of almost 15 years killing myself to be perfect, and I suspect that I'd be in exactly the same place if I'd just striven for "good enough."

So as I enter this new phase in my life, I'm looking forward to paying more attention to what makes me happy, what makes my kids feel more special, what makes my family function better.  They are going to get my absolute best.  The rest of the world is going to have to settle for "good enough."

Cheeseburger in a Blender

I'm coming to terms with a liquid diet.  Apparently, when you have surgery, you have two weeks of a liquid diet to prepare your internal organs for surgery.  I am not excited about this prospect.  Unless a liquid diet consists of Starbucks, beer and Chick-fil-A milkshakes, I'm not interested.

Ok, ok.  Don't get yourself into a tizzy.  I know that the purpose of surgery is a overhaul my eating habits and to put myself on a path to better health.  I just can't help but be a little reluctant to give up the foods that have been my friends for so long.

I've mentioned in previous posts that I am an emotional eater.  That basically means that when I'm stressed, I eat.  When I'm sad, I eat.  When I'm bored, I eat.  So in many ways, these foods have been like the best girlfriend who you call every time you need a little support.  In some ways, they are even better than a friend:  they don't get mad that you always focus on YOUR feelings and YOUR problems,  you don't have to feel guilty for only calling them when you need something, and  there is no flak for not keeping in touch.  They are always there, always ready to welcome you back when you need them.  Asking nothing in return, and giving themselves.

But now these friends have started to offer less comfort.  They are hanging out with the wrong crowd and trying to drag me down into it.  It's time to let them go.  But alas.  Like the end of any relationship, there are some wistful feelings.  That's when you have to remind yourself of all the awful, crazy and annoying things the person did.  Recalling all the bad stuff makes you happy to be rid of them.  So to make saying goodbye, I think I'll stick that cheeseburger in the blender.   That way I can see what it's really made of, and will make saying goodbye that much easier.

Oh, Right. THIS is why mornings stink...

This morning was more like normal.  I was in bed by 9:30 (a lovely new habit!) and asleep and dreaming happily when a shriek cut through the night.  "Mommy!  MOMmy!  MOOOOMMMMMMYYYYY!!!!"  I leapt out of bed and ran to the girl's room.  She was sound asleep.  Into the boy's room I go, where he is completely freaked out by a nightmare.

Now at this point I have a choice: I can sit by his bed until he sleeps or I can bring him into my bed.  Since I'm about to drop from exhaustion, I choose the latter.  He climbs in and, as all children somehow manage to do, he expands to 600x his normal size, taking up every spare inch of space on my side of the bed.  Dear husband is sleeping soundly and doesn't budge.  So for the next 5 hours, I play contortionist - trying to find a position to sleep in that A) doesn't wake the boy, B) keeps at least 80% of my body on the bed and C) doesn't hurt.  I have limited success.

So, needless to say, there was no power Pilates this morning.  I did manage to make my smoothie to take with me to work.  But I have a feeling it's going to be a looooong day.  Pass the coffee, please.

Monday - Up and At 'Em

So this morning, my eyes popped open at 4:45.  I did not set my alarm or anything, although the 3 year old elbowing me might have had something to do with it.  I went downstairs and spent about 30 minutes doing a Crunch Power Yoga Pilates something-or-other video, and then went into the kitchen.

Two things you should know before I continue.  Number 1:  I leave for work at 6:30AM.  That is walking out the door time.  Because of Number 1, we have Number 2: weekday breakfasts are usually an afterthought for me.  They are something to be picked up as I walk out the door (or more truthfully - picked up from McDonald's on the way to work.).  I love breakfast - eggs, bacon, sausage, grits, oatmeal, hashbrowns, pancakes, waffles, mmmmmm...  But those things don't work for a weekday morning on the run.

Keeping those in mind...  I decided to try my new immersion blender.  Everyone is always yammering on about how great smoothies are, so I decided to give it a try.  Frozen banana (which was a pain to peel!  Anyone have any good ideas on how to deal with that one??), a container of strawberry Greek yogurt (usually I hate yogurt; unless of course it is frozen with brownies, M&Ms and other things on it.), and a can of Protein Power vanilla shake.  My reasoning is that I'm going to have to drink that stuff for weeks after my surgery, so I better try it out now.  It was so yummy!  I'm excited.  And 6 WWP for the whole thing - which I actually divided into two servings.

But I digress.  This blog is not for the purpose of dissecting everything I eat and every exercise I do.  It's for delving into the issues that have been roadblocks for me in the past.  Usually the mornings have been difficult.  Could today be the start of a new trend??

Who am I and How did I get here?

So I'm having Bariatric surgery.  I've told a few friends and co-workers about my choice, but on the whole I've kept the decision to myself.  My reasoning for this is multi-faceted.  Most of the reactions I've gotten are along the lines of "Wow, I didn't think you were big enough for that."  I guess I should be thankful for that.  After all, I'm tall with a long torso, so I carry my weight well. But the truth is I am 5' 8.5" tall and as of today, I weigh 300 pounds.  For those of you keeping track, that's a BMI of 45.6 - Extremely Obese.

Putting those numbers down and publishing them is probably one of the hardest things I've ever done.  My weight has been a subject of guilt and shame for as long as I can remember.  My overeating has been done mostly in secret - alone or at least out of view.  Those closest to me have seen some indication of these secret binges, but on the whole I have been very careful about hiding.  Like any good addict, I always found a way to feel the need inside.

But lately I've been probing into the reasons why I've behaved like this for so long.  I'm no slouch.  I'm a bright and competent person.  I intellectually understand what it takes to reach and maintain a healthy weight.  And I've been successful in the past, losing about 35-40 pounds on several occasions.  But every time I reach a certain point - usually my first major goal - I completely lose it.  It is as if I fear success, and getting too close to it is cause for panic.

Instead of taking a good hard look at the issues that were developing under the surface, I buried myself in other responsibilities.  I chose a career that is completely absorbing, got married young, started a family, took on extra responsibilities in my work and faith communities, and pursued every advanced degree, certification and course of study I could.  Anything to keep myself too busy to ponder why I never seemed to be able to control my eating habits.  This way, when I failed (as I inevitably do) I can say it's because I was too busy.  I didn't really put all my energy into it because I had so much else going on.  Blah, blah, blah.

So this year, I am vowing that my health and well being will be my top priority.  I have resigned from my additional duties; I am going to keep my work commitments to those that can only be completed during work hours.  I am vowing to set up boundaries and stick to them.  I am putting myself first.  This is going to take some practice, but if I don't get a handle on this RIGHT NOW, I am going to end up at 600 pounds and unable to leave my house.  No thank you.

Now, I just have to devise a plan.  That's next.