Day 1 of the "new diet".

Breakfast: 1 scoop of scrambled eggs
Mid-morning: 1 1/2 cup fruit, 1/8 c almonds
Lunch: salad - lettuce, 2 tbsp sliced black olives, 1/4 cup turkey, 2 tbsp shredded cheddar, 1/4 cup carrots, 1 tbsp chopped onion, 1 tbsp chopped bell pepper, 3 tbsp lowfat Ranch
Mid-afternoon: 1 1/2 cup fruit, 1/8 c almonds
Dinner: 2 breakfast burritos - southwestern eggbeaters w/ chorizo and 1/2 c potatoes on 2 whole grain wraps
Water: 9 glasses
Diet Coke: 3 20 oz bottles
Gym: yes
Stairs: 2 flights

Actually, the food part wasn't so bad. The mid AM/PM snacks came along right when I was getting hungry, and amazingly, they filled me up. I was a bit hungry before going to the gym. And after working out, I wasn't hungry for a while. Kinda nice. Other than the wraps, no wheat products.

Tomorrow I'll be going to lunch with a coworker. We've already agreed to go to a restaurant where they make great salads. My only problem is they also make great flat bread, which goes great with the salad. And then tomorrow night I have to make muffins for Gabriel's Thursday and Friday lunches. Yum!

All right, enough about food! I have been sedentary all my life. I've had asthma all my life, too. Unfortunately, it wasn't diagnosed until 10 years ago. Growing up, exercise of almost any kind was agony. I remember having to run the mile in 11 minutes in high school. I started running with everyone else but a quarter of a lap later I was gasping for breath. I walked most of my way through that mile, and the PE coach passed me even though it took me 2 minutes longer. Even today I watch any and all athletes and marvel at the ease with which they accomplish their goals.

So, I am finding that I enjoy working out; that I don't have to lean on asthma as a crutch. Oh, I bring my inhaler with me every time, and it's rare that I don't have to use it. But for the first time in my life I'm feeling 'the burn' and I'm enjoying it. I'm seeing muscle definition, and I'm able to get around more easily. I've been plagued with knee problems, and a few years ago I had to have artheroscopic surgery on my left knee. After the surgery, I pretty much became an old lady. It was painful even moving slowly. But now I'm moving and more quickly, too. I'll have to have artheroscopic surgery on my other knee soon, but until then I'm going to continue working out. I actually enjoy sweating!

So, I'm starting to feel more attractive and desirable since I've started working out. Now I need to lose weight. Thus, the diet. Like so many other people, I've started and stopped diets several times. I hope this time is different.

Ugh. I Hate Being Overweight.

Ugh. I'm overweight. I didn't used to be. But from my mid-20's on, the weight trickled on and just didn't go away. Then one day I woke up and saw...a blimp in the mirror. Ok, well not a blimp. Just a rotund woman with a very flabby tummy, inner thighs that rubbed, and a chin and a half. Granted, 4 pregnancies contributed to the tummy - and the saddle bag thighs. But that's no excuse.

The year after my second child was born I went on a health kick. I attended aerobics twice a week, joined a gym, went to Weight Watchers and dropped 45 pounds. A lot! But then a major heavy project got in the way. I worked round the clock for 2 months. That led to a serious case of Bronchitis. An asthma diagnosis and massive allergies then attacked. And you get the picture. Welcome back pounds!

Jump 10 years, and I actually was so engrossed in my family and life that I lost 10 pounds. That was the Golden Year. Not because I was 10 pounds lighter, but because life was just so good. Rufus and I were closer than ever, Cassie and Chris were doing great, we were way in the black and traveling all over the lower 48. And to top it off, I got pregnant again. Nine months later, and the bottom dropped out. Our third child was stillborn. It was devastating. A lot I won't talk about now.

I got pregnant again three months later, and the Year from Hell ensued. You may wonder why I call it the Year from Hell. Imagine having a perfect pregnancy where nothing could go wrong, but then having your child die at birth. Then imagine the total opposite; a pregnancy in which everything that could go wrong did. Gestational Diabetes, Pre-term Labor, a botched Amnio, 4 months bed rest. It was a wonder I didn't lose my mind. I think that there were days, though, that I did. Gabriel was born at 36 weeks; practically perfect in every way. I had post-partum depression for the first year. Not fun.

And since then, the weight has been creeping up. I often think that part of it is due to undiagnosed depression, slight though it may be. I'm on Prozac. I'm not afraid to admit it. I'm a realist. I know I can't get through the day without some way to level out. I could do alcohol or drugs or even tobacco. But I won't do tobacco - too painful for the lungs. I don't want to do alcohol - regularly. Loss of control. As for drugs - loss of all that is valuable to me; my family. So, Prozac it is. Sure does make me much easier to live with. And trust me, I spiral down the toilet quickly if I miss even a day.

So, here I am; F.A.T. Most of the time I can delude myself into thinking I'm not that fat. But in those unguarded moments, I catch myself in the mirror, and the pooches and pouches are glaringly apparent. So, what do I do about it? Well, last June Rufus and I joined the Lifestyle Gym that opened down the street. I worked out for about 5 months with a trainer, but that got too expensive. I'm working out now on my own. Rufus works out with one of his buddies. I'd much rather work out alone - helps me stay focused.

In 6 months, I've lost 12 pounds. It's some but not enough. And I'm finally starting to realize that working out alone just won't cut it. Yes, I've modified my diet. But obviously not enough. I've been talking to a trainer and a well-educated friend, and I finally realize I've got to bite the bullet. No bread! I have GOT to cut the carbs! I'll starve for 2 weeks getting my body used to the new eating plan. I don't know how I'll make it!

My Family

I've been writing this blog for about 5 weeks, so now it's time to share my family. I'm married. Duh. My husband is Rufus. We have four children. Cassie is the eldest and the only girl. Chris is in middle school. Rufus III died at birth. Had he lived he would be 4. And Gabriel, the youngest is 3.

Rufus is a native Floridian. He's lived his entire life within 50 miles of his birth home. He's the ultimate athlete. He plays softball year-round; men's and coed. His biggest regret is that he didn't stick to baseball when he was young. He certainly had the talent. When he's not playing softball, Rufus can be found tooling around in the garage or in the yard. No lie, I have yet to go into the garage and find something the first time. He loves rearranging everything. I truly do believe he is ADD, which is why he does so well at his job. It's always changing.

Cassie is in her midteens. She lives for soccer and FOB (Fall Out Boy - an alternative rock band). Chris is 16 months younger. He's all about Anime - games, cards, cartoons, books, you name it! Sports? No way! (Much to Rufus's dismay.) Gabriel is 3. He is Autistic, but he's an expressive Autistic. He's into Pixar and Disney and Thomas the Tank Engine.

I am a native New Mexican. I moved to Florida in the late 1980's during the oil embargo and the plummeting Star Wars program. Florida was one of the few states in the lower half of the lower 48 that was still hiring. I moved with $300, no job, no transportation, 1 suitcase, and 2 boxes. I found a job the first week I was here, and I've been here (and at the same employer) since.

Rufus and I met one night when I was clubbing with some friends and he was hanging with his roommate. My friends and I walked into a nightclub, and within 5 minutes Rufus came over to ask me for a dance. I'd recently broken up with a boyfriend, so I was hesitant to play. I told him that if he was still around later in the evening I'd dance with him then, but right now I wanted to relax and have some fun. Some time later, he asked again and I said yes. We closed the nightclub down, and at the end of the night, he gave me his phone number. Didn't even ask me for mine! I went on with my friends and promptly lost his number. Amazingly, the next day, I dialed what I vaguely thought was his phone number. And it was!! We went out that night, and we've been together ever since.

Being a biracial couple in the South, for us, is no big deal. If anyone has issues with us we haven't witnessed it to our faces yet. We do find that everyone remembers us and our family. We go to a restaurant as a couple or family, and anytime afterward all the waitstaff know us and all about is. To our knowledge, we haven't been discriminated against, though I wouldn't doubt that it's happened. As long as it's not to our faces, we don't know it's there. Sometimes I wonder how our children fare outside of home and how their unique heritage will affect their relationships and lives. We'll know soon enough.

The Neighbors Are Moving!

Our neighbors are moving! Whew! Can't say how glad we are that they're moving! It's not like they're loud or rude or don't keep their yard clean or trash the place. Rather, they seem to feel they are above everyone in the cul de sac, all except for the guy who lives across the street. The one whose girlfriend recently moved out.

We've been living in the same subdivision for 11 years; the first eight of which were spent at the front of the subdivision. When Gabriel came along, we needed more space. But we still wanted to live in the same area - it's convenient to everything and in the part of the city we like. So, we bought a house in the back of the subdivision.

Our previous house was also on a cul de sac - 8 houses. And everyone knew everyone else. Three of the houses had children under 10, one had senior citizens, two had young career couples, and the last two had children in high school and college. We were a close-knit block; even when houses were bought and sold. It wasn't unusual for one house to start the evening cooking out and for the evening to end with an impromptu potluck with everyone running around the block. If one family was having a crisis, everyone pitched in to help. When Marilyn's house was hit by lightning and burst into flames, Rufus and Mike ran into the house to put it out. Then Marilyn and her husband stayed at one house while their children stayed at another. When Kim and Mike separated, Paige & Alan, Rufus & I, Rod, and Wes made sure the yard was cared for, the house was watched, etc. And when our son, Rufus, died, everyone checked in on us daily and took Cassie and Chris (this was before Gabriel was born) under their collective wings. Our block was one big family, which was one of the main reasons we wanted to stay in the subdivision. We wanted to be close to our neighbors and friends.

Our new house is located in a cul de sac with 8 houses, again. We've been living in this house for almost 2 1/2 years, and we have yet to know any of our neighbors by name. It's not like we haven't tried. When one of the families was sodding their yard, Rufus went over to help. But the guy rebuffed his offer - nicely, but still. When the neighbor to the right was deployed to Iraq, he left his wife and three children in the states. Rufus would go and mow their lawn when it got too high; not that they asked, but he knew it was difficult being a single parent. So, he did it just because, and usually when they were out. And when our soon to be ex-neighbors had their first child, I made them a lasagna dinner with salad, garlic bread, chocolate cake and sweet tea and took that and a baby gift over to them. Cassie and I spent 10 minutes chatting and then left. No acknowledgement was made then or ever.

So, it's not like we're going to miss the neighbors - the ones who had the baby. It's as though they go out of their way to keep us at a distance. The few times we've initiated conversation with either of them, they make it a point to use first names of other neighbors as though to say "we know them, but you don't." They called the police when the neighbors to their left had their music on "too loud." We found out from those neighbors that the police didn't do anything. More than anything, though, it's the almost total lack of acknowledgement and the near total avoidance of us.

For a while, I thought I was just being overly sensitive to the vibes I was getting. But, then when Rufus mentioned it, I knew it was real. See, Rufus is so mellow, just about everything goes over his head. He just doesn't let it bother him. But this, it bothered him. And if it bothers Rufus, it's real. So, when we noticed a real estate agent's SUV in the driveway, not just once, but twice, we started hoping. It was there again last Thursday, and when I went to get a coke at the Kangaroo, there it was big and bold. FOR SALE. No lie, we were dancing in the garage.

A couple days later, Rufus was in the garage when the real estate agent came by again. They just happened to have a few words, and when I got home he was grinning from ear to ear. An offer had been made and accepted and all that was left was the appraisal. Woo hoo! We could hardly believe our ears.

So, what now? Hopefully, neighbors we can bond with. We really miss the at-home comaradarie we had in our old home. We're still very close with our old neighbors; it's just that it's a mile from our current home. It's much more convenient when you're only 30 seconds away from your house. Cross your fingers!

Have You Ever Wondered?

Have you ever wondered what old flames are up (or down) to? Have you ever tried to find out?

Sometimes I do. I have to admit it. Why? I'm sure that each person has their own reason. Mine is primarily curiousity. Is he still alive? Does he have children? Did he finally find the woman who could tame him?

Sometimes, when I can't sleep, I cruise the internet. And right around the 3:00 AM, what I would call the witching hour when it's darkest, my brain is in shutdown mode but my eyes are in "ooh what's this" mode, I start trolling for a few folks from the past. Not least of which is an old flame I'll call "Nate". Nate and I had an on/off relationship for 7 years. Some of the best sex I ever had until I met my husband. Problem was Nate had several monkeys on his back. The two biggest were booze and drugs. I'm not talking your garden variety pot and pills. I'm talking horse, bathtub crank, the works. The other problem was when Nate was straight, he was a dream to be with. So, I lived for those times, few and far between though they were. And when it was good, it was very good. But when it was bad, it was worse than very bad. Eventually, Nate landed in a medium security prison for 4th degree felony grand theft.

You would think I'd end it there. But no, I let myself be seduced by the possibility that he could be reformed and we could live "happily ever after." So, like a fool, I became his ward so he could parole out after a year. By that time I was living in another state, having graduated college and gotten a job. So here comes Nate and the first thing he says is "you've changed.". Hmm, ya think? New state, new culture, new job, new responsibilities. I dunno, maybe I changed just a bit. But then he wasn't the same either.

We gave it the good old college try, but 3 months, $5,000, a crack cocaine possession bust, a motorcycle accident, and an impounded car later, I was stumped. For all I thought, we could pick up where we left off and he could start a new life. What happened instead was he went down the toilet and tried to take me with him. He was arrested one afternoon, when I had come home for lunch, for a hit and run in which a girl was left paralyzed. Yes, paralyzed. Where was I when this happened? At work. The first I heard of it was when the police arrived.

Believe it or not, I actually kept on trying to make the relationship work. I visited him in jail, which was actually more secure than the medium security prison I'd visited him in before. But when he tried getting me to smuggle contraband - ballpoint pens - into the jail, I realized he was nothing but a leech; sucking the life and happiness out of my life. I ended it that day, while visiting him in jail. I told him I couldn't do this anymore and I wouldn't be coming back.

He'd left me in debt, having run up my credit cards and used my ATM. I had to pay back thousands of dollars. That bothered me but not near as much as the broken trust. See, I'd trusted him for 7 years; through all his lies, deceipts, mistakes, etc. And when it finally came down to it, he couldn't tell me the sky was blue if his life depended on it. So, I moved and left no forwarding address. But he somehow found me, and while in a maximum security prison (for what, I still don't know to this day), kept writing me. I still have a couple of the letters. I keep them to remind me of the sickness that could have been mine.

Three moves later, I felt relatively safe. What I hadn't mentioned before is that on several occasions he'd explained to me how he would kill me if I left him. So, I was somewhat nervous about his release from this second prison. Blimey if a few months after his release he called me at work! Talk about shocked! I got as much information as I could from him and once we hung up, I called the police and reported him. It was my hope that he was still listed in NCIC with outstanding warrants. I don't know if anything resulted from my call, but I do know he's not contacted me since. And that was 15 years ago.

So, back to my original questions: Have you ever wondered what old flames are up (or down) to? Have you ever tried to find out? Yes, sometimes I do. I imagine seeing him and wonder what he looks like now, if he's alive. And I wonder, how would I react. But I don't wonder what I would say and do. I'd say "I forgive you for the wrongs you did to me. And I apologize for the wrongs I did you and for not making you accountable." I'd then kiss him on the cheek, look into his hazel eyes, brush the wavy locks from his cheek, and say good-bye.

A Quiet Saturday

Wow! Chris and I saw the new movie "Stomp the Yard" tonight. It was GOOD!! One of the few positive African American role movies made. One of the few positive role model movies, period. Those stepping teams were BUFF! It takes a log of discipline, exercise, strength to step and/or dance off.

Today was a good day. I actually got up at what I would consider a decent time; 8:00. Not too early, not too late. Gabe and I played for a while, and then took Cassie to her hair appointment. Rufus and I then spent the better part of the day doing odd jobs around the house while Chris and Gabriel played in the water, in the house, wherever, Cassie went to see "Freedom Writers" with some friends in the afternoon and Rufus took his mother to mass. Chris, Gabriel and I stayed home just enjoying the day.

It is now 1:45 AM Sunday morning, and amazingly, I can't sleep. And Cassie can't either. So, we're watching "X-Men, The Last Stand" on pay-per-view. I've not seen it before. I'll probably do laundry while watching it. And then in the morning, when we need to be going to 9:00 AM mass, I'll be sound asleep or wishing I were asleep.

This is a short post - my only recommendation is to go see "Stomp the Yard."

Gabriel's Gifts

Can you believe that almost two weeks have already passed in the new year! The children started back to school on Monday, and they already have days off! Friday for Teacher Planning Day, and Monday for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. I wish I had that kind of schedule!

Gabriel seems to have started back to preschool fairly well. It's funny. When Chris was 3 years old, it didn't seem to matter whether he had naps or not. Gabe definately needs them! Half of the time he falls asleep either coming home or right after getting home (between 5:30 and 6:30) and stays asleep till the morning. Poor child! His schedule is up by 7:00, to daycare no later than 7:30, get the bus to school which starts at 8:30, on the bus at 1:30, back to the daycare by 2:30, and home around 6:00. The preschool only has 15 minutes of quiet time, no nap. And when Gabe gets back to the daycare, the other children have already had their naps. And Gabriel doesn't want to sleep when they're playing. So this is a bit of an adjustment for him - and us.

Gabriel seems to be babbling more, and yesterday he babbled to me as though we were having a conversation. Tonight, when I was putting him to bed, he actually hummed a bit. That was the first time I'd heard him hum.

At school, he is learning how to use PECS to communicate. At a high level, it's a notebook that contains sheets with pictures velcroed to them. The pictures are of things, foods, actions, etc. that Gabriel may want to eat, use, or do. The basic premise of PECS is that when Gabriel wants something, he gets the picture and gives it to the person he's 'talking' to. That person states what the picture is and uses it in a sentence, and then Gabe gets the item. This method not only provides a means of communication, but it also promotes verbal communication - at least that's what I've read, what my ESE teacher friend has researched, and what the documentation says. Hey. I'll try anything! My only concern is that it relies on the use of an item or items (notebook, pictures, etc.). I think about the consistency or lack thereof outside of school.

At home, Gabriel is learning sign language. Have I mentioned that in a previous entry? I don't know. Anyway, he knows cracker, drink, movie, please, and thank you very well. He can use these signs without prompting. He knows book and all done, but ya have to prompt him to use them. We are in the process of learning come, want, make, pancake, and help. Everyone in the family uses the signs when talking to Gabriel, and we always reinforce by repeating the word.

It does take some time for Gabriel to learn the signs. His fine motor skills are a bit weak, but with time, the process of signing will help his fine motor skills. You have to repeat the sign hand-on-hand several times over several days. And praise him every time he tries or makes the sign, whether he did it with prompting, help, or whatever.

Gabriel speaks one word very clearly. Can we guess what word that is? "NO" And he emphasizes it by shaking his head from side to side. So, we always know when there's something he doesn't like or want.

Gabriel is my miracle. I thank God for him every day. It was a sacrifice bringing him into this world; my selfish sacrifice. But I know Gabriel teaches me something new every day. His disabilities are his gifts to us all.

Old Friends. New Beginnings?

A brief background. My parents married young. I came 9 months after they married. So for the first 15 years of my life we lived in various cities and states while my parents took turns getting their degrees. This meant that, for the most part, I went to a different school every year. Then, in junior high, I had the option to continue in the same school. It wasn't the most fun time of my life, but the benefits to staying at one school over a number of years far outweighed the effort to re-establish myself in yet another school. My parents earned their degrees and established themselves professionally by the time I entered high school. So, again, I got to go to the same school for a number of years. One of the most valuable benefits of this was making and then keeping friends for more than 9 months.

I would like to think I treated my friends as well as they treated me. Unfortunately, I realize that was not the case. There's no real excuse, but in my defense, all that school and city-hopping, while providing me valuable life experiences, left my social skills woefully underdeveloped. Twenty-five years later, I have a much deeper appreciation of the value of friendship, and the friends I have now are very much valued and respected.

I had several friends back in high school, two of whom were my closest friends - Amy and Debbie. Amy was a middle child of 6, and Debbie was the baby of 5 - the next in age roughly 12 years older than her. And there I was, the elder of 2. Amy's upbringing was more faith-based than Debbie's and mine, thus Amy's boundaries were much closer than ours. As a result, Debbie and I were closer friends. Of the two of them, I considered, and still consider, Debbie as my best friend through high school and college.

As I wrote above, I didn't treat my friends as well as I should have back then. Life being what it is, I abused my friendships, and unfortunately, Debbie bore the brunt of it. As a result, we had a falling out in 1987. There wasn't a screaming match, nothing like that. Rather, Debbie chose to halt any contact with me.

It took me several years to find out why. I tried making up for it, but it was too little too late. And at that point, I'm sure Debbie just wanted me out of her life for the remainder. It's been 20 years, and you know what? I still wish for at least a passing friendship with Debbie. I realized too late that she was a total friend; she did any and everything I asked of her, and I was too selfish and self-centered to appreciate her.

Over the years, I've attempted contact - roughly 3 times. Doesn't sound like much, but when someone doesn't want to be found... In 2005, for the first time in the 20 years, Debbie posted her email address - and snail mail and phone number in our alma-mater's Alumni Directory. As part of the beginning of 2007, I sent her an email. Yes, it took a year, but that was a year of "should I" and "shouldn't I". So, I sent the email on the 2nd. Will I get a response? I don't know. We'll see. I hope so. It's a new year. Could it be a new beginning?

Happy 2007!!

Happy New Year! This year will be better than the one before! While last year could have been better, it was most definately not a "bad" year. Just a bit stressful.

In 2006 we experienced the following:

• The start of high school with our eldest.
• Which led to the struggle for independence, insolence, and the like
• Mom's first Alternative Rock concert - FOB (Fall Out Boy, for the ininitiated)
• A diagnosis on our youngest's travails - Autism
• Intro to ESE Preschool
• Gaming extraordanaire for our middle child.
• Finally, a break from Yu-Go-Oh!
• Skyrocketing gasoline prices, which have cut dramatically into our budget - still working on getting that one resolved.
• The beginning and demise of Tupperware consulting. More money and time than it is worth.
• The adoption of our 3 year old German Shephard - to a home where someone is home all the time. Thus, he gets the time and attention he deserves.
• A new transmission for the Honda
• A piano! (Given to us by dear friends who no longer use it.)
• Moving my office from one building to another at work.
• Tighter purse-strings.

As for 2007, my hopes are the following

• Our youngest get a verbal vocabulary of at least 5 words with ASL vocabulary of at least 25 words.
• Our eldest improve her grades to warrent buying a $120 pair of soccer cleats and that ever-touted driver's permit.
• Our middle continue his goal to become a vet, which means continuing A-B Honor Roll through the school year.
• Husband becomes more money-savvy.
• We get our finances on track and complete some home-improvement opportunities (namely the hall bath, a sun room, painting the kitchen and installing a chopping block, painting the master bath, and maybe, just maybe, wood floors).
• I lose 25 lbs, gaining more physical acuity.

As for my personal 2007 Resolutions:

• Maintain a workout schedule of 4 days a week
• Lose 25 lbs this year
• Bead enough items to participate in a craft fair in October
• Better relationship with my husband
• At least one trip to Dallas and one trip to Las Cruces
• Better relationship with God - prayer, read bible, find a church home for the whole family, etc.
• Financial stability

I hope everyone who reads this has good intentions for the new year and that each and every one of us accomplish at least two of our intentions.

Happy New Year 2007!!