Baby Steps

I have a lovely friend, whom I don't really see often enough these days, so it felt like it was meant to be when we bumped into each other last week and realised we were both free yesterday to meet for coffee. There's a rather good coffee shop at one of the local farms so we agreed to meet there at 10am. As I headed onwards with my list of chores for the day, it occurred to me that I could walk there - it must be a couple of miles from my house, and two, two-mile walks with a coffee or three in between would be a good way of getting back into walking. But no. When my pal heard this she decided that we'd be better off taking her dog for a tramp in the hills instead. And she was right. It was fun and much less expensive in these crunched times.

We took it easy, to cater for my extreme lack of fitness. It seemed to suit Em okay, but her dog was straining a bit - I suspect that Em, with her youth and slim figure to support her, normally runs this route, and that she was slowing things down for my benefit. I was working quite hard though - the sweat pouring off my brow was disguised by the constant rain which at least had a slight cooling effect. She rewarded me for my efforts with a coffee in her house at the end of the walk while I steamed up her kitchen.

Still Rolling along

Cycling to nowhere for an hour yesterday has left me with decidedly creaky knees, so I decided that today would be a good day to give them a bit of a rest by doing a power walk around the village instead. Sometimes I wonder where I left my brain cell.

Anyway, not much time to ponder my own stupidity. Today we have two "firsts". Kid the Eldest announced some time back that he'd like to join Scouts. This is more of a big deal than it might at first appear because he's an anti-social little character (takes after his mother in that respect) and has actively resisted all previous attempts to get him to "join in" until now. We'll see how it goes. I'm quite excited for him, but a little nervous too. Will he do as he's told? Will he get jeered at for joining so late in the day? Will he love it? I guess we'll find out tonight.

The second "first" is that Kid-in-the-Middle is joining a band! All that huffing and puffing on the Horn seems to have paid off and she was told yesterday that she was ready to join a band in the town next to us. I'm delighted for her, because at one point she was all ready to quit and it took some persuading to make her keep at it. Now she's the best in her group. Atta girl!!

The only trouble with all this, is that it means I'm turning into one of those mothers I said I'd never be....kids doing activities every damn day of the week. I'm starting to feel exhausted thinking about it.

Monday = hockey club
Tuesday = social skills club
Wednesday = Rainbows, school band practice (recorder)
Thursday = Brownies, homework club, Scripture Union, horn lesson
Friday = Scouts, band practice (horn)
Saturday = Swimming
Sunday = Sunday School

My calendar has different colours for different people. Purple for me. Green for the Man I Married. Blue for Kids. It's a wash of blue, with a smattering of green and just the odd speck of purple drowning amongst everyone else's activities. My next car had better be a taxi.

Back in that saddle again

I have never joined a slimming club; I'm too damn mean to pay someone else to help me eat less. It has always seemed like a mad idea. But I can see why they work - there's the support of other slimmers, a kind of pressure to succeed because you don't wish to admit failure. But I still don't think it's for me.

However, my good friend Harridan has challenged me, and I like a challenge I do. (Say that with a Welsh accent if you will.) 40 days. No alcohol. Some form of exercise. Stick to diet. It's only 40 days. You can do anything for 40 days. Jesus did.

I'm not Jesus though. I suspect one of the things that comes with being the Son of God is a tad more willpower than was dished out to me. But a person can try, no?

Days 1, 2 and 3 were a bit of a washout. There was (and this is an oxymoron if ever I heard one) some leftover wine. (I know. That's like saying "too much chocolate", or "spare cash", or "Military Intelligence".) Anyway, it has always seemed wrong to have "leftover" wine and so I spent three days drinking up the dregs before they went off. (To continue with the semi-religious tone of this post, I should point out that diet-destruction-wise, the devil is in the details. Details of just how much wine was leftover. Which I'm not telling. Afterall, I'm sure some other religion or doctrine somewhere once decreed "speak no evil". And I'd hate to go against such a sound concept.)

I did manage a couple of "dry" days. And then I met up with temptation and failed to be resolute. A couple of glasses later,and what little will-power I had evaporated in a haze of mood-enhancing cava. Twas rather fun though.

Since then (and that was Saturday) I've been doing a much better job. I even survived a somewhat stressful visit from Mother without recourse to grape juice. And that's quite an acheivement. The diet has been stuck to and exercise in various forms has been undertaken. I actually feel smaller. Not much, but enough to spur me to keep going.

One thing I have noticed, is that while some people eat to stave off boredom, I tend to reach for a glass of wine. Nothing on telly? Never mind, have a glass of wine and find a re-run of something that was possibly amusing the first time round. So I've taken up knitting instead. Perhaps I just needed something to do with my hands? I gave up smoking about 12 years ago, so I wonder if the wine glass became the substitute ciggie? I find knitting quite soothing, so perhaps my needles will become my substitute glass? Thus far this week I have produced one preemie hat, one newborn hat, a pair of bootees and a fake boob. Yes, a fake boob. For a friend. No, not a weird perverted kind of a friend, and not one of those "I've got a friend who has a problem and she asked me to ask around because she's too embarrassed to do it herself because really it's me" kind of friends either. A real friend who needed a fake boob. How cool is that?

Anyway, that's enough from me for one day. I have an exercise bike upstairs and last night's episode of The Apprentice to watch before someone spoils it and tells me who was ousted. And several summer dresses I'd actually like to wear again one day!

Peace at last.

Blogging hasn't been very high on my list of priorities the last few days. Surviving each set of 24 hours without killing anyone has been on the agenda instead.

Today we waved Mother off to her own home again after having her here for the last ten days or so. She was starting the recuperation period after a hip replacement operation. It was her suggestion that she stay here with us. "It will be easier." For her? Maybe. For me? Not so much.

I don't have an easy relationship with my mother. She pretty much disapproves of everything. Not just me, but everything. It is hard to stay positive around someone who can find negativity in even the most joyful of occasions. I do love her, very much. But I find it easier to love her when she isn't at too close quarters. Especially when those quarters happen to be mine.

So now I can breathe a sigh of relief, no? Well sort of. My aunt has come up for a week to take over care duties, but after that I'll be on my own again. Mother is not coming back here. Not unless I get to move out first. So this means daily trips to her house five miles away to keep her company and bring her shopping and try to get her to go out and about a little bit. It's fair to say that she will resist all these efforts and we may well fall out. Again.

All of which made me ponder the relationship that I have with my own children. Am I as disapproving? Do I make them feel like their opinion is worthless? Do I expect them to cater to my needs above and beyond their own? I hope not, but I'm sure in years to come they'll have their own complaints about my parenting. I just pray that whatever life chucks at us we'll still be able to find the time to see something beautiful and smile, to laugh at our foibles instead of berate each other for them and hug each other. Lots.

The long haul

Starting Weight: 14 Stone 11 lbs
Today's Weight: 13 Stone 2 lbs
Total Lost: 23lbs

Can you believe I started this diet in September 2008? (As opposed to all the other diets that I have been attempting since about 2005) I should be the size of a pencil by now.

All those endless months ago, I weighed 14 Stone 11 lbs. 19 weeks of hard slog shrank me down to 12 Stone 9 lbs, and then Christmas happened. I took the stance that life was too short not to enjoy a mince pie and promptly slapped on ten pounds. (Some mince pie!) That same ten pounds have been coming and going ever since.

I justified all this consumption by stating that I had been trying to "not" diet. In other words, I had stopped blogging, stopped completing a food diary and stopped "depriving" myself - if I fancied a bit of butter on my toast, I had it. If I felt like having custard with my apple and blackberries, I had custard. I think I was hoping that the generally healthy diet that I provide for my family, with no sense of deprivation for me, would stop the binge/diet cycle. It sort of worked. I didn't feel deprived! And actually, it seems that the weight I am now is where I would naturally hover if left to my own devices. Trouble is, I don't like that weight very much!!

So it's back to the hard slog. Or at least, a version of it. I am not convinced that the very strict approach is working for me. It works for a bit, but then I get invited out for dinner and the 4% or less fat rule gets broken. This results in a guilt/sod it cycle and I'm back to looking less like a pencil and more like an overstuffed book bag. I need a more relaxed approach - just not too relaxed!!