Weighty Matters

I have just read an essay in UU World, a journal published by the UU Association of Congregations. It's called Weighty Matters.

The subject of the essay is fat. It's written from the perspective of a woman who has traveled my weight journey. Here is a quote that I can very much relate to:

"All of which hurts like hell, but the accusations of laziness especially rankle. I have put herculean amounts of time, energy, and money into dieting and exercise, under the supervision of all manner of medical authorities. I have succeeded in taking off literally hundreds of pounds, and even maintaining the loss for a year or more—the point at which, many weight loss experts assured me, I would be home free, habits and metabolism now transformed into this healthy new me. 

Only each time it all came undone. Some life crisis would come along and demand my full attention, and thereby reveal that I had maintained the entire show only through an obsessive effort of conscious will. As soon as these crises distracted my attention away from weight control, the whole house of cards would come tumbling down. All the supposedly permanent behavior changes would drop away, the old hungers would awake with what seemed a new level of voraciousness, and within a year I would have regained all the weight and more, as well as gouging several more wounds in an already badly scarred self-esteem."

That sentence I highlighted in red is particularly true of my experience. I have lost and gained 30, 40, 50, 60, pounds over the years since high school. Each time, this was accomplished through obsessive dieting and exercising. 

The time-before-last was just before I met my husband. I had gained through graduate school, as the stresses of a bad relationship and trying to finish my thesis made life difficult and ended my daily 3 mile run, which had helped me to maintain my last weight loss. My teaching job was a fresh start, in a new city, with new people. After managing to successfully complete my first semester as a college professor, I decided to lose weight. I bought a cross-country ski machine and got up at 5:30 every morning to use it for a half hour. I bought a pair of rollerblades, and most afternoons, after teaching, I spent at least an hour rollerblading. I had a quarter cup of cereal with skim milk and black coffee for breakfast, a plain, dry, bagel for lunch, and a half cup of cooked rice with spaghetti sauce and steamed broccoli for dinner. EVERY DAY. For months.  There was nothing else to eat in my apartment, and when I had to socialize around food, I would order a plain English Muffin, or salad, no dressing. 

I lost 50 pounds over about four months, which still isn't skinny because my body doesn't become skinny and toned, even when I'm eating very little and exercising a lot. But I was fine with how I looked, and it was great being able to get jeans and t-shirts in a size 12, rather than plus sizes.

Then I met Rob, and we started dating.  A bag of mini Snickers was the first thing he put in my refrigerator. A husband, a house with a huge yard, and a baby later, and I'd regained all of it and more. 

I went through one more yo-yo cycle, when Emma was about four years old. I joined Weight-Watchers online, and began counting points. I obsessively over-estimated points so that I lost weight fast, again by restricting my diet. Then we decided to build an addition on to our house, which resulted in an unexpected period of homelessness, and living in a friend's basement. Somehow, counting points seemed unimportant faced with the issue of living for several months without being able to cook anything. Again, I regained all the weight and more. 

I know there are people who lose weight and keep it off. I know there are people who never have to struggle with weight. I know there are people who are great at just watching (not obsessing over) what they eat, and maintaining a healthy weight. But I'm not one of them. After my last yo-yo episode, I happened across some relatively new information about the affect of yo-yo dieting on the hormonal signals that keep your body running successfully. People who diet as I had all my life have basically set themselves up to fail.  I decided I wasn't going to diet anymore. If I could just stay the same (big) size, I'd be happy. Well, maybe not happy, but content? 

The author of this essay was motivated to write because of the recent deaths associated with lap-band surgery in Los Angelos. Is living life fat so awful that we will so casually risk dying? Being too fat is a public health problem. As a society, we pay for the diseases that affect people who are obese. I've been lucky enough (a genetic roll of the dice) to avoid diabetes, but my hips and knees are paying the price of running on cement sidewalks, and then having to support too much weight on joints that were worn out through exercise that was trying to keep that weight off.

Somehow, we need a cultural change. Two things stand out to me: first, we need to create a culture where eating healthier food and having exercise as part of your daily routine (for example, walking to work) are the norm. Second, we need to stop expecting everyone to be the same thin size. The first time I obsessively dieted, I wasn't fat. I was just on the heavier range of normal. But that was enough to shame me into the first leg of my yo-yo race to thinness. That race has led me to be heavier than I would have been otherwise.

In an effort at full disclosure, here are two photos of me. The first is from the first year of grad school, before it became the stressful hell that seems to be true of all grad school experiences. I'm on the right --and as always, skinnier on top than on bottom :-)

And here is a picture of me taken this Mothers Day, with Emma.

Now I'm just big all over :-)

A Busy Day

Today was "Clean Your Art Area" Day. You all celebrate this holiday, right?

Emma wants an additional two skeins of yarn for her current obsession craft of puff-ball monsters. I said yes, IF.  

If you clean your art area. It took us two hours, and we have three plastic grocery bags of trash and a box stuffed full of paper to go in the recycling. We got rid of stickers that no longer stick, markers that no longer mark, glue sticks that are hard as rocks, used up bits and pieces, and projects that got started (like the frame of a kite made from bamboo garden stakes) but never finished. Really, she did pretty darn well at throwing things out.

And I'm beat! Holding open trash bags is hard work. And then I had to vacuum, too.

And here, for your viewing pleasure, is the Puff-ball Monster Salon:

 I know, it looks like a mess to me too. But the stylists seem to be pretty talented, because while those puff balls look pretty plain going in, here's how they look coming out:

Pollinators

I've been in the garden quite a bit over the last few days, and the pollinators are hard at work.

This guy on the baptisia was enormous, and with full pollen sacks on his legs, I was worried he might not get airborne!

The honey bees love the garlic chives. This girl is most likely from our one surviving hive:

And this tiny butterfly was hard to catch, and little blurry. I think it's a Blue, but you can't see the color with its wings closed.

Taking pictures of garden critters is like playing Twister extremely slowly.  I wish I could move and hold still as if I were 20 years younger!

Just had to share . . .

My new wine glasses :-)

I've had a slight problem with tipping my current stemmed glasses. I'm hoping this might help. Plus, they're just so cheerful!

Weekending

So, this weekend . . . phew! 

Friday I attended a lunch for a colleague who is retiring. I had to work a bit to make sure I wasn't sitting between an old man who used to teach physics at the college (and always made sure I knew geology was not a real science), and another old man who used to teach historical geology, even though he's a creationist. Yep, they retired when I was hired and we whipped that department back into shape. Luckily, I found a seat across from another former colleague who was always one of my favorites --he's a chemist who grew his own barley and hops to make beer, grows his own grapes to make wine, and would make coffee mugs from beakers by blowing glass and melting on a handle. Not only a really nice guy, but always interesting to talk to.

That evening Emma gave her first solo show. Well, technically it was part of the Fine Arts Showcase at her school, but she got up on that stage and sang, accompanied only by a piano. This was the show that caused all the unkind girl drama earlier, which she almost put behind her. Appropriately enough, she sang the song Brave (by Idina Menzel). She sang before the trio who excluded her, and I was hoping she might want to leave before they sang. She chose to stay, because one girl in the trio gave her an honest apology and their friendship is still in place. It was the wrong decision, though, because when they were done we found she'd left the room because she'd started crying. I'm sure part of that was because by this time it was 9:30 p.m., and between the time and the stress of waiting to perform, she was just a smidge tired. Not that she'd admit it, being eleven.

The "variety show" (5th, 6th, 7th, & 8th graders) went on for two hours. It was interesting to see how some of the kids took the risk and performed in a way that was outside their comfort zone, and others put very little effort into the whole affair. One boy tap-danced, and you could tell that he really wanted to share a talent that he was proud of, but he had to be brave to do it. An 8th grader showed amazing poise as she sang a song that related to her Native American heritage. They were well supported by classmates and parents, who indicated how impressed they were by applause and calling out praise. But boy was my derriere sore from sitting on a metal folding chair for so long!

On Saturday Emma and I dropped off an enormous trunk-load of clothes at a clothing drive, then hit Michaels for popsicle sticks so she could create a scale model of a chicken coop for school. Her class is working on all things chicken-related as their last project, although it looks like the eggs they've been incubating are not going to produce any live chickens. A lesson in itself.

I double-ordered plants (I forgot I'd placed the first order) and they all came at once, so I was busy planting astilbe and amsonia and geranium and shasta daisy, plus trying to fertilize plants in various stages. My new blue iris opened, and it's gorgeous!

Sunday we visited a local attraction, the Nicholas Conservatory. It's a beautiful greenhouse with mostly tropical plants --I even found out the name of that weird plant we'd seen at the Domes in Milwaukee --a Staghorn Fern.

We ended the afternoon by getting shaved ice drinks and sitting in the various hammocks in the our yard, which, really, is one of the nicest places to sit. This evening we watched a great family move --We Bought A Zoo. It was a nice Mother's Day.

Tomorrow is a parent-teacher conference day, so Emma has no school. Yay! another day to sleep in :-)

Schools Out!

I am finished teaching --I still have a final exam to give and some other miscellaneous grading to do, but no more being on stage in the classroom. I am always very ready for summer break --I don't know if it's that I'm really tired after two semesters, or if it's more that the outside world is calling me (and needy) and I'd prefer to spend most of my time out there.

Rob brought home bags of top soil and compost a week ago, and Emma and I poured it into a raised bed he'd created last year but we never filled. This is Emma's garden, and she wants strawberries. In addition to picking up the strawberry plants, I let her pick out five packets of flower seeds to sprinkle in --although as Rob's OCD child, she didn't sprinkle. No, every little seed had to be carefully placed into rows. Seed rows had to be symmetric, with the same seeds planted on each side of the bed. Oh well, it's her flower bed, huh? :-)  While she did that, I planted my tomatoes in the neighboring bed.

We bought three strawberry plants that are awake, and ten dormant ones. The plant markers in the center of the bed are where the dormant plants went in. And four snapdragons to symmetrically mark the corners :-)

This morning, as I was grading at the kitchen table, I was looking out at a freshly mowed lawn (that I mowed yesterday after work, such a sense of satisfaction because the grass was knee high and blooming in places) and this bed, with it's purple and yellow iris.  Ahh . . . summer.

Seeing the Tropics in Milwaukee

Emma had Friday off school, so we took a drive up to see the Milwaukee County Zoo and The Domes in Mitchell Park. Temps were in the 50s, which was great for the zoo --lots of animals out and about. But The Domes were amazing! I didn't even know these existed until Rob asked if we wanted to visit them the same day we were planning to go to the zoo. I looked them up, and was fascinated. There are three, but really only two are real ecosystems. One is tropical, one is desert, and the last they call a "show" dome. The show dome had some beautiful hydrangeas and foxglove, but it was not interesting compared to the other two. 

These pictures are all from the tropical dome, and they don't really do it justice. If you live in the area and haven't been, you should GO! I only had my phone camera, and the lighting was really difficult. Every step we took, we were exclaiming over some new plant, with Emma just as fascinated as Rob and I.

 This is the entrance to the Tropical Dome, and walking in from rainy 50's to warm and humid was nice (for a time). 

Emma was fascinated by these flowers that were as large as her head.

 This tree was so cool, but there was no way to take a really good picture of it. The top is like a big fan --the different geometries of nature that we saw here and in the Desert Dome were so interesting.

There were several places with different orchids growing, but between the lighting and a phone camera, this was the only photo that came out.

The trunk of this tree was completely obscured by the climbing vine.

Emma had never seen a banana tree before, and was amazed at both the size of the leaves and the way bananas grow.

This plant was awesome --it is hung in a harness from tree limbs, and it looks like a big (massive) ginger root with leaves growing out of it. I have no idea what it is, but apparently it doesn't need soil.

These flowers were growing on a shrub and have the most amazing stamens --again with the cool geometry.

And this guy --isn't that right out of the Harry Potter world? I was waiting for this tree to detach some hands and start gesturing. 

This would be a wonderful place to go with a really good camera and tripod. You could spend hours with these plants and still find something new.

Your Future in a Face

There is a wren making a house just off the front porch. I love love love the sound of a wren. I hope they raise their babies there.

Yesterday I drove on a class field trip. Emma is in a school "interest group" this week called "Hand Made", where they've learned to make paper, bind a journal, crochet, sew a stuffed animal, etc. They've talked about how man-made doesn't mean hand-made, and the field trip was to our local free trade store, called Just Goods. It's a wonderful store, started by a man named Stanley Campbell, who is the leader of a local Urban Ministry group. Any profits the store makes are funneled back into helping the local neighborhood (previously known for prostitution), through re-habbing houses to rent as low-income housing, sponsoring local musicians and artists, and just generally keeping the neighborhood safe. He met us at the store to talk to the kids about the difference between free-trade and fair-trade.

While we were there, a very old woman came in to shop. Now, I'm tall, at 5'10". This woman was really, really short --she was inches shorter than Emma who was just measured at 5'3". She had the misfortune to come in just as we were wrapping up our visit, which meant most of the kids were making small purchases. She got into line behind me and Emma. I looked over at her, smiled, and said "Sorry it's so busy," my way of saying excuse-me for all the kids. She looked at me. Definite eye contact, kind of expressionless, like she was considering what I was, kind of scientific, but not mean. She didn't say anything, so I went back to minding my own business. My overall impression was that she didn't really feel it was worth her energy to engage in conversation at that moment. Or maybe she was just awed by what a giantess I am.

Once all the kids riding with me were finished, and we were back in the car, I spent a few minutes looking up the school's address so I could put it into the GPS (yes, this is how often I go to "town"). In the middle of this process I looked up, and she was on the walk in front of my car, staring at me. She was just staring at me, still not much of an expression. She didn't look mad, but she didn't look pleased either. After a moment, I realized that she was waiting for me to back out so she could get in her car. Now, I wasn't parked uber-close to her, and I'd spent enough time in the car already that she could easily have gotten in. And I'm not the kind of person who would zoom backwards out of a space while an old lady was clambering into her car, (this was a huge SUV, and I did wonder if she'd need a ladder to get in). I don't think I look like that kind of person, but perhaps I'm wrong.

So, I apologized and backed out into the parking lot, where I could fumble with my GPS without being in anyone's way.

It occurred to me later that afternoon that I will likely become just like that old woman. Only taller.