UP 6.9 lbs. Yes, you read that right. And after losing over 50 lbs. I'll be danged if I'm going to start going backwards and gain it all back. So it is once again time to buckle down and get serious. I'm going to be eating a lot less of...
this...
...and this....
...and this... And a lot more of ...
this,...
...these,
... more of this,
... and this, so that I can look like this:
Okay, well that might be stretching it. I could eat the healthiest diet ever and workout 23 hours a day and NEVER look like that! Sophia Loren has been quoted as saying, "Everything you see I owe to spaghetti." She has said that she eats pasta every day. Every day! Apparently it goes to all the right places on Sophia...
If I were to eat pasta every day, this is where it would go on me...
Actually, these days I wouldn't even mind looking like Fiona!
I am a stress eater. Stress has been my middle name for a while now, and it's gotten worse over the summer... Stressing over finances, stressing over work, stressing over some personal issues, stressing over things that are out of my control and stressing over things that are in my control (like getting off my rear and getting to those WW weigh-ins!). There aren't enough hours in the day to do everything I am trying to do and a lack of sleep hasn't helped either...
These days, instead of my house looking like this...
... it's looking more like this (okay, slight exaggeration... but only slight)
I worry a lot about my dad, who is now 87; my dad who was always so strong and independent, and who always took care of his family. It is very stressful to be a part of the sandwich generation; to still be worrying about children (even if they are grown), and to also be worrying about an aging parent. I see my dad every day. Ever since he took ill last year, he has not been able to be left alone. So either my sister or myself are with him at all times. And even on the days when dad is not at my house to be watched, he is here for supper...
Ever since dad was ill last year, he has not been able to drive (not his choice). If he had his way, he would still be driving. We have taken his keys and it has not been an easy thing at times. He does not like being told what he can or cannot do, but for his own safety and for the safety of everyone else on the road, there is no way he can ever be allowed to drive again. But he does not understand and/or accept this. He will bring up driving and we will tell him why he can't. The next day he will bring it up again and not remember that we even talked about it the night before. And that is just the tip of the iceberg...
Independence and dignity feel like a thing of the past to him more and more. Other people are calling the shots, "No, you can't drive," "Yes, you do have to go to the doctor," "Yes, no, yes, no..." It is heartbreaking and it can also be very trying at times. I thank God that most of the time dad is resigned to the fact that this is the way it is now, and is very easygoing about everything. But on those occasions where there is no reasoning with him, it can be so difficult, for him, and for us... But mostly for him, and it truly breaks my heart.
I know some of you are going through very similar situations right now. I pray for all of us, that we have the patience and strength to kindly and lovingly deal with the people in our lives who
have had to relinquish so much of their independence. When my dad is having one of his difficult moments, I try to remember the following poem as it truly puts things into perspective:
have had to relinquish so much of their independence. When my dad is having one of his difficult moments, I try to remember the following poem as it truly puts things into perspective:
When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was felt that she had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
An Old Lady's Poem
What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you're looking at me?
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try!"
Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
And forever is missing a stocking or shoe.....
Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill....
Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse; you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten ... with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who love one another.
A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty -- my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five now, I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.
At fifty once more, babies play round my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead;
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I've known.
I'm now an old woman ... and nature is cruel;
'Tis jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life over again.
I think of the years .... all too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, nurses, open and see,
So open your eyes, nurses, open and see,
Not a crabby old woman; look closer ... see ME!
I wish all of you patience and strength with any trials and tribulations you might be facing. And we must remember to take care of ourselves, something I lost sight of these past few months. So here's to getting back on track, regaining balance in life, and to patience, kindness, love, laughter, and always trying to retain a sense of humor, even when it seems that there is nothing to laugh about!
Donna
