Imperfectly perfect

It has been a long time since I felt drawn to write or share anything.  Today seemed like a good day to begin again.  It is almost the end of another year.  I have had many blessings and joy-filled days as well as challenges and doubts.  There has been a lot of laughter and there have been tears.  I am alive and breathing and that alone is a gift!

I have lost 196.4 lbs of what was once me by fighting with all of my might!  I have maintained that weight loss for almost eight years with one hundred of those pounds gone for more than twenty two years.  I am a Weight Watchers leader who leads three very successful meetings a week and yet today I am more than 10 lbs above my goal.  I have my reasons, well excuses, beginning with rotator cuff surgery in October. Surgery put me out of my exercise routine and continues to keep me from doing much of the physical activity that I love and that my body is used to.  Then there is the comfort eating and the holidays and slowly the weight creeps up.  I feel embarrassed and ashamed...  Today I looked in the mirror and really paid attention to what I was seeing.  More shame!  I put on clean jeans, my fat jeans, and they weren't as loose as they should be.  My muffin top spilled over the waist.  I came downstairs and handed my phone to my husband and asked him to take two pictures, a side shot and a straight on shot and then without looking at the pictures I asked him to take I sat down and ate my breakfast.  I knew what I would see.

My husband is an amazing man who has loved my no matter what.  He didn't understand the pictures.  While he didn't ask me a single question about why he was taking my picture I heard his silent questions!  He confirmed how smart he is when he asked nothing  and yet I heard him loud and clear saying, I love you, you are fine, don't stress this...  I am not fine!  Once again I find myself uncomfortable in my own body.  My mind screams, "How are you going to stand in front of the members in your meetings?  Look at you!!"

"Do you want the facts or the bullshit?"  A simple question that my husband loves!  I hear that rolling around in my head these days.  The bullshit is all of my excuses about my food choices and exercise; surgery, drugs for pain from surgery, comfort food after surgery, it's the holidays, I'm not allowed to even take a walk...  There are more but why waste time on bullshit.  The facts are while I did have surgery and pain and activity restrictions, I made conscious decisions to eat mindlessly, conscious decisions to not track what I was eating, conscious decisions to bake too many cookies and it all caught up with me.  FACTS that can't be denied.  Numbers that stare back from the scale.  Fat jeans that are not quite so loose.  Rolls in unflattering places.  I am done!

So what would I say to my friend in this exact situation.  I would tell her I love her and that this is a temporary setback.  I would give her a hug and hold her tight and maybe even cry with her telling her I understand because I do.  I would smile and ask how I can help and then do it.  I would cheer every positive step she makes and we would celebrate her success because she will be successful.  I would remind her how far she has come  and assure her she has not failed.

I had a bump in the road and I am NOT a quitter nor am I a failure.  I am perfectly imperfect!  I have looked at the pictures and while I am not happy, they are not as bad as I imagined.  I have tracked everything for 24 hours.  I will put on the same clothes next Thursday and have my husband take new pictures and I will get this weight back off.  Will I screw up once in a while? You can count on it!  Will I succeed?  You can count on it!

I am perfectly imperfect!

A place where love lives.

For forty eight years my in laws, Jean and Clair, lived in this lovely home in Canton, Ohio.  The Tudor style of the home is classic, the natural woodwork beautiful and the kitchen so comfortable.  My husband lived in this home for most of those years.  For forty six years this has been a home full of love.  I have been so blessed to be part of this family.  As a fifteen year old girl Jay brought me to this home to meet his parents and I was welcomed with easy conversation, french silk chocolate pie and lemonade in the kitchen and later for Sunday dinners always shared at the dining room table.  Sticky buns from the Woman's Club were served at many of those Sunday dinners. Summer brought homemade ice cream churned in the old fashioned ice cream maker at the side door and was devoured as soon as it was done.  Chocolate chip cookies, blueberry cream pie, Santa Claus cookies, and  brownies made from scratch were traditions which continue today, recipes passed down to children and grandchildren. Holidays, birthdays,weddings, anniversary's, woman's club, and even good byes have been celebrated in this home.  Many hours of my teenage years were spent sitting at the kitchen table just talking to Jean about the problems I was having.  She always listened but never shared her opinion about what I was telling her and yet that was enough.  Conversation was easy, acceptance and love was given unconditionally.  In the foyer of this home hung a framed letter that Clair had written to his parents shortly after meeting Jean.  A letter tucked away and cherished because he knew even then how special she was.  He presented the letter to her one anniversary not so long ago.  Love filled this home! Jean and Clair  have welcomed three grandchildren and now 3 great grandchildren into this home.  Their grandchildren and great grandchildren have played with special toys which were  brought out and then tucked away until they came to visit again; toys which  have now been passed down for me to tuck away and bring out when grandchildren come to play.  Love filled this home!

Today a SOLD sign stands in the front yard. Jean and Clair have moved into a new apartment in a retirement community and they are home.  Love fills their new home!  Jay and his sister, Barb, have just finished the final clean up before the house closes. The furnishings are gone and the rooms are empty. The marks on the door in the kitchen which record the growth history of the grandchildren will soon be removed by the new owners.  Walls will be painted, carpet replaced, and the kitchen and bathrooms will most likely be updated by the new owners.  The doors are closed and locked but the house is far from empty because this home was full of love and it is my most sincere prayer that the new owners can feel themselves surrounded by the love that was taught and shared here.

What is love?

Valentine's Day is here again and my kids at school are so excited they can hardly stay in their own skins. Today there are cupcakes and heart shaped cookies and fruit skewers and more candy than any one child needs in every classroom in every school across the nation. School nurses, like me, hold their breath and pray that the parents read the labels of food they sent in to share and that the children with food allergies can get safely through the day with out a severe allergic reaction.  Florists have been in and out of the school   delivering beautiful bouquets of flowers  to faculty and staff. Pink and red are the colors of the day. Love is everywhere!

Several years ago I wrote a post about love and shared it here.  I am choosing to repeat that post again today because the message is worth repeating.  Here it is:

⁴ Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud ⁵ or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. ⁶ It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. ⁷ Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. (1Corinthians 13)

He was 16 and she was 15 when they met that July and yet something deep inside her told her this boy was different, special, worth getting to know.  She didn't have a lot of time to get to know him because he was getting ready to go to Sweden as a Rotary International exchange student for the year and yet they had enough time.  They wrote letters back and forth once, sometimes twice a week, and he called her on Christmas Day, something that had to be prearranged in those days.  They talked for just a few minutes yet it was enough.  He returned home at the end of his school year abroad and they spent the summer together and the next year until he graduated from high school and immediately headed off to college.  They continued to date and when he was home you rarely saw one without the other.  She had a moment of doubt her freshman year in college and broke off their relationship despite the fact they had already picked out an engagement ring.  Her mother was furious with her.  He was brokenhearted.  He returned the ring.  She dated other boys often calling them by "his" name.  By Christmas she realized her mistake and called him hoping to re-establish a relationship, begging for forgiveness; he was dating someone else but they talked and before long they were together again.  They married, had 2 children (a girl and a boy) and have battled the ups and downs that come with any relationship; the good times outweighing the difficult ones.  It is now 42 years since they met.  They have been married 37 years.  She has been with him for more than 70 percent of her life and yet she still loves him with her heart and soul.  Today is Valentine's Day and the card she gave him could not begin to express the depth of her love for him and so she is sharing this on her blog but writing it for him.  

To my loving husband, Jay, who I love more than words can ever express.  Thank you for sharing your love and your life with me.  You continue to show me what love is in everything you do.  I am blessed to have found you but know without a shadow of a doubt that God arranged our meeting at that church paper drive 42 years ago.

Here are some profound answers from children when asked; "What does love mean?"

'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different.
You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.'
Billy - age 4

'When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore.  So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.'
Rebecca- age 8

'Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.' 

Terri - age 4

Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.'
Bobby - age 7

My favorite is a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, 'Nothing, I just helped him cry'   

Happy Valentine's Day!  May you be loved by someone who is so caring they will help you cry!

There you are!

Have you ever watched the movie Hook?  I have and I have to admit it is one of my favorites.  It doesn't hurt that Robin Williams and Dustin Hoffman are cast as Peter Pan and Captain Hook and Julia Roberts as Tinkerbell.  Exceptional artists playing exceptional characters!  You may be wondering why I am talking about a movie, especially the movie, Hook.  Well the truth is a line from that movie just popped into my head over the weekend and I can't get it out of my head.  The line is simple enough and was spoken by one of the lost boys after looking very closely at Peter Pan's face trying to determine if he really was Peter Pan.  Finally, he gazed deeply into Peter Pan's eyes and said, "There you are Peter!"  Here is a short video clip from the movie so you can see and hear those words in context:

Why is, "There you are Peter!" hanging around in my brain, popping up again and again whispering softly to me, annoying me?  Saturday evening I realized why and it came from a most unusual place, another blogger.  My daughter sent me a link to a blog she thought I would enjoy reading but she also pointed out the current post was one she was certain I would like.  So I clicked on the link to Mrs.Thor and read the story of an amazing woman, Amy, who shared that she had now lost 100 pounds.  Amy said, "I'm still afraid to write about it, still afraid to talk about it, still afraid to put it down as a record, still afraid to show off the mind-boggling before and after photo of the last 50 pounds I have lost, for fear that maybe it will stop, or go away, or I will wake up tomorrow and it won't be real."  She continued on with a powerful post concluding with, "And now, here goes nothing.  It's real.  I will wake up tomorrow and it will still be real."

How do these two seemingly random things tie together in my brain?  What does "There you are Peter!" have to do with this?  Where am I going with this post?

You see I understand Amy's fear to put her words in writing and back them up with a picture showing the Amy before and the Amy now afraid that if she actually put them in print they would somehow not be real tomorrow.  I understand because I had similar concerns.  If I had lost 196.4 pounds who was I now and who was the 196.4 pounds that are now gone? One hundred ninety six pounds is a full grown adult man! Was I the same person that started the weight loss journey or did somehow I get lost in the weight that was gone; was I gone?  This was the same weight I said I hated. Had I somehow disappeared?   Who was buried under the enormity of that extra weight?  Who was I now?  Was I even recognizable?  "There you are Peter!"  I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror, really looked at myself from all possible angles.  I am older and my skin shows the age and the stretching it has endured but I realized I looked like me!  I thought for a while about how I felt about my body, my life in general, my friends and my family and I smiled.  I am content in this baggy skin I wear.  I am happy, really, really happy I am fulfilled and I am loved. "There you are Peter!"  There you are Lynn!  Can you feel me smiling?

Striving for perfection

I feel I should explain why I have been silent for so long but I am afraid that my reasons are just like everyone else; I have been busy.  While this is true I also have to admit I haven't been moved to write anything that I felt was blog worthy.  I think carefully about what I choose to share and frequently find it so easy to sit and write a post, often inspired by something that just seems to pop into my head or affected by something I have seen or heard.  If you follow my blog you know I spend a lot of time writing about weight loss and related issues but none of this has seemed relevant until yesterday when I saw a post on Facebook.  It was a picture posted by Motivate Hope Strength and it caught my attention and resulted in me sharing it on my page.  Here is the post:

It's good right!  It is also ridiculous! No one in their right mind would smash their phone to bits simply because they dropped it.   This is a long stretch but don't miss the point it makes about making the wrong food choices;  you don't need to be perfect!  So you were eating well and then something happened, a chocolate iced, cream filled, Krispy Kreme donut perhaps, and you ate it!  The good choices became harder and then forgotten and you totally screw up your plan for the day.  So what?  Get over it!  We are all human and we make mistakes.  Sometimes we even make the choice knowing we are screwing up but you know what - life does not end and success is not out of reach.  Striving for perfection is not the goal.  Are you surprised I would say that?  The only thing I hope for on a daily basis is to do my best.  I mess up!  I make the choice to eat things for all the wrong reasons and sometimes I make the choice to eat something I know I could do without simply because I want it but I don't quit trying!  I have learned to forgive myself, to strive to be honest about the choices I make, and the reasons I make them and that undoing years of unhealthy habits does not happen quickly, easily or painlessly.  

I am not perfect.  I no longer strive for perfection.  I am good enough!

To the weight I have lost

I wrote this and posted it in October 2010 but tonight thought someone needed to know I understand how they are feeling right now.  Since writing this I have become a Weight Watchers leader, a job I love!  I am blessed to lead the Tuesday evening meeting and Saturday morning meetings in Rock Hill, SC.  Tomorrow, January 12, we are having One Amazing Day.  YOU can be AMAZING in 2013!  Come join us!

If you know me personally you know part of my story.  If you have been following my blog you have barely touched the edges of me.  Today I can share with anyone who wants to read this, a letter I wrote to the weight I have lost.  This letter was written after weighing in at my usual Weight Watcher's meeting and realizing I had lost more weight than I currently weighed.  The realization that I was less than half of who I once was overwhelmed me and so I tried to put those feelings into words. 

To the weight I have lost:

You are gone, good riddance!  I lugged you around way too long overwhelmed with the enormity of you. You no longer have any control or power over me.  I gave you way too much of my time and my life.  I hate you!  You stole years from me that I can never replace and filled me with frustration and sadness.  You made me feel ugly and stupid and inadequate.  You made me ashamed of myself.  You cheated me out of play time with my children as they ran through the sprinkler in the front yard and begged me to join them, when they climbed trees and when they built “forts” out of discarded furniture boxes which were far too small for me to get into.  You embarrassed me when we went to amusement parks and I was too large to fit into the seats of the rides.  I hate you!   You made me hide in public places.  You kept me silent when I wanted to participate in a group for fear of drawing attention to myself.  You cheated me out of the joy of a plane trip with my husband and instead filled me with dread as I wondered if the seat belt was going to fit around me or if I was going to have to ask for an extender.  I hate you!  You made me embarrassed to laugh and dance and enjoy myself for fear of being laughed at or ridiculed.  You made me a shadow in my own life. 

 Those days are over.

I have reclaimed my power over you and I will never see you again.   I am now less than half of what we were together.  Today I am saying good riddance to the half of me that once was you, forever.  I will not waste a minute mourning your loss nor will anyone else who has carried the burden of you.  You are dead and gone.  If I look back at you it will only be to see how far I have come.  I will be reminded of how strong and powerful I am.  I will walk another half marathon and I will improve my time.  I will fly to exotic locations with my husband.  I will look forward to someday playing with my grandchildren and teaching them how to climb trees, and build forts from refrigerator boxes, and I will be in the fort with them playing and telling them about their mom or dad.  I will continue to put on my bathing suit and teach water aerobics in front of strangers who are now part of my family and I will not give a second thought to my flabby arms or sagging thighs- remnants left by you.  Instead I will rejoice that I have arms and legs that work and let them show as a prize won after a battle which lasted way too long.  I will continue to encourage others to get rid of you forever, and I will support them when they come up short and try again and again and again until they too are rid of you and I will dance.  Oh, how I will dance!!  You see in the process of losing you I found me.  I will never again be a shadow in my life.  I will hold my head up and look to the future with anticipation and joy because now I know without any doubt that I was, and will continue to be worth the effort.

Before 376 pounds.  After 179.6 pounds!  Lost 196.4 pounds without surgery or drugs.  

I don't understand

Today as I sat in my office, the Health Room of an elementary school, I learned of yet another incomprehensible tragedy at another elementary school.  I watched the live feed on my computer, saw the sound bites with a little girl who was in the school when the shooting took place and the gut wrenching pictures of families trying to get information about their children, their babies, and I fought back both tears and the urge to vomit.  I turned the live feed off and did the only thing I could think of, I prayed.  This is a season filled with childhood wonder and joy as children everywhere anticipate Christmas and Santa and even Christmas vacation and this day, today, will forever change their thoughts and memories surrounding this very special time of year.  Their childhood innocence has been forever altered.

I spoke to both my children via live chat and realized I just needed to know they were OK and  to tell them that I love them.  I called my husband to see if he had been watching the events unfold on the television but I really just wanted to hear his voice, to see if he understood, if he could explain, all the time knowing there is no explanation that begins to make sense.  I prayed some more.

I talked to my friends, the teachers that I work with, looking into their eyes as they struggled to understand, knowing they were probably having some of the same thoughts I was having; we work in an elementary school, this is crazy, could this happen here, what do we say to the children next week when they return to school.  We had no answers.  It was unusually quiet in the front office as we left school.  What do we say...

So I sit at my computer and try to make sense of something that will never make sense.  How can a person walk into an elementary school with a gun which looks as if it should only be used by the military or police and take aim at innocent children, innocent adults?  How does that ever make sense in their head?  What did these babies do to cause them so much pain and anger?  In the end the shooter killed himself and saved the taxpayers a lot of money in legal fees but if in the end he was going to kill himself why didn't he just do that in a place where he is the only one who will die?

I will continue my prayers for the families of the children and adults who died today and for all of us who have been affected by this tragedy.  I will pray that those who make gun laws will finally realize things need to change and while I support the right to be a gun owner I recognize there are guns we should not be allowed to own, and I will pray for the family of the shooter who now carry the burden of his actions.

Tonight I pray for God's grace, peace and love.

A Prayer

The tragic, unthinkable, incomprehensible act of a gunman in Colorado descended upon us all once again and I find myself struggling to understand; I don't.  How can anyone understand such an event?  As I listened to the news reports and the viewed the images in the media I became fixated on the outpouring of grief.  I heard about the unselfish love of at least 5 men who placed their bodies on top of their girlfriends and in so doing died while saving them.  I saw pictures of the father begging for news about his son who was later found dead; dying on his birthday, and I saw the picture of a beautiful six year old little girl whose life ended in that theater before it really had a chance to begin.  I fought back tears.  That little girl smiling, eating an ice cream cone stays with me.  I realized each of those victims regardless of their age was somebody's child, a priceless, irreplaceable gift from God.  

Sometime ago I came across a prayer written by Ina J. Hughes entitled, "We Pray for Children".  I printed that prayer and have it in my office at school.  I can't think of a more appropriate prayer for a day like today so I am sharing it here.

We pray for children

who sneak popsicles before supper,

who erase holes in math workbooks,

who can never find their shoes. 

And we pray, for those

who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,

who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,

who never "counted potatoes,"

who are born in places where we wouldn't be caught dead,

who never go to the circus,

who live in an X-rated world. 

We pray for children

who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,

Who sleep with the cat and bury goldfish,

Who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,

Who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,

Who slurp their soup.

And we pray for those

who never get dessert,

who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,

who watch their parents watch them die,

who can't find any bread to steal,

who don't have any rooms to clean up,

whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,

whose monsters are real. 

We pray for children

who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,

who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,

who like ghost stories,

who shove dirty clothes under the bed,

and never rinse out the tub,

who get visits from the tooth fairy,

who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,

who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,

whose tears we sometimes laugh at

and whose smiles can make us cry. 

And we pray for those

whose nightmares come in the daytime,

who will eat anything,

who have never seen a dentist,

who aren't spoiled by anybody,

who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,

who live and move, but have no being. 

We pray for children

who want to be carried

and for those who must,

for those we never give up on

and for those who don't get a second chance.

For those we smother…

and for those who will grab the hand of anybody

kind enough to offer it. 

We pray for children. Amen

 

Today my prayers will include ALL of the children who died in Colorado and will include the child who was the shooter and his family.

Finding happiness

I noticed it out of the corner of my eye as I walked past the front door.  It was just sitting there looking so ordinary on my porch; just a large cardboard box.  It had a plain address label which was addressed to me and a bright orange sticker which read "Fragile!  Handle with care"  The UPS man must have placed it there like he does with so many other packages only this time I didn't hear the doorbell ring.  I unlocked the door and wrangled the large awkward box into the foyer and carefully looked at the other markings on the box, totally forgetting about an online order I had placed  about two weeks ago.  There on the side of the box was a label that said, "Respironics."  Respironics is a company that manufactures CPAP machines and CPAP supplies which are used by people with sleep apnea. I had a moment of panic as I hurried to the kitchen to get a knife to open the box.  Sometime in May I had placed an order for 2 soft CPAP caps for Jay.  The order had never come but our credit card  had not been charged so I didn't give it another thought.  Jay and I had talked about the order for the caps and he assured me he had a backup cap and was fine with the apparent outcome of my order.  I forgot about that order until "Respironics" was staring at me in bold black ink from the side of a very large box. Oh my gosh!  That order must be here and it surely was messed up because 2 soft caps would most certainly fit in an 8 1/2" x 11" padded envelope without difficulty.  How many caps did I get and what was it going to take to get this all straightened out.  Panicked I tore into the box!  Packing peanuts in multiple colors came spilling out of the box.  I remember thinking, "who needs to pack peanuts around fabric caps?"  I dug though the peanuts only to encounter blocks of foam padding, lots and lots of foam.  My concern and panic was increasing.  What did I mistakenly order and what is it going to take to get this mess straightened out?  Then I saw it and I began smiling, grinning, laughing as total joy came exploding out of that large ordinary cardboard box!  You see that order I had forgotten about was for items I had seen on E Bay after discovering another cardboard box of memories and precious toys had been lost, mistakenly donated to Goodwill.  I had won an auction and this was my winnings.  There under my fingers was a Fisher Price A Frame house, not my house but another perfect house.  The tears came again but this time they for happiness found inside an ordinary box at my front door.

Bring on the food challenge!

I have a blogger friend, Mimi, who writes about Weight Watchers in the 1970's.  She loves the era and frequently shares recipes from the WW program in the '70's complete with her taste evaluation.  She is brave, very brave!

If you, like me, did the Weight Watchers program in the '70's you may remember the FIVE fish meals per week as well as the MANDATORY liver meal weekly.  The were no free fruits and vegetables and no skim milk!  Ketchup you could have if you made it yourself.  Wow!  What great changes the program has made.

Mimi issued a challenge to her blog followers a month or so ago.  She asked who would be willing to cook up a recipe from the 1970's Weight Watchers program and blog about it.  I volunteered (and prayed)!  Here is the link to read my recipe challenge: Pink Fluff Salad as well as the other brave bloggers participating in Mimi's virtual potluck:

                                                         


 CLICK HERE:   Pink Fluff Salad 

If you visit her blog, let her know in the comment section, I invited you!  Remember your manners  :)

Just a box of toys

This past week has been one full of anticipation and excitement for me as we prepared to welcome our daughter, son in law, and granddaughter who would be visiting from New York for several days.  Erika is now 9 months old and with her living so far away we have missed so many changes as well as quality cuddle time with her.  I am excited, we are excited!!  Saturday could not arrive quickly enough.

On Thursday I asked my husband to bring down the box of toys we had stored away for "someday".  He looked carefully in the storage space that flanks either side of our bonus room and found nothing that resembled a box large enough to contain those saved toys.  He came down and told me they weren't there.  I returned to the bonus room with him to conduct another search knowing he had missed them, praying he had missed them.  The box contained special toys tucked away for grandchildren someday.  There was the Fisher Price A-Frame house picked up a garage sale by my mother when Megan was little.  There was the Fisher Price rolling ball with the carousel animals that rocked and chimed as it was played with.  There was the Tudor style Fisher Price House, the school bus containing all of the wooden little people,  the garage and cars with the lift that moved up and down when the crank was turned and there was the barn and silo with all of the animals.  There were other toys and lots of wooden little people and there were countless memories of times our children played with those toys. They were tucked safely away years ago to wait until we needed them.  We wanted to share those toys with our grandchildren.  Some of those toys packed away so long ago would be great for Erika to play with now and so I had to search again.  They had to be there!  Jay surely was wrong.  We searched and as he said, no box of toys.  Maybe they were in the attic.  I held my breath and we looked but again came up empty.  Jay commented more than once that I looked upset and I was.  Part of something special was gone and I had no words adequate enough to explain how I was feeling and then the tears came, streaming down my face and dropping silently onto my shirt.  Jay didn't know what to say.  He tried to comfort me but I was lost.  Perhaps I could replace a few of the toys, and yes, they would be similar but they would not be the same as the toys I knew now were mistakenly donated to Goodwill when we cleaned out the storage areas several years ago.  It was no one's fault, it was simply a terrible accident.

I called Megan and told her about her A-Frame House and all of the other toys that were gone and she understood my sadness and disappointment.  I played on EBay as we talked only to discover they had several Fisher Price A-Frame house on their listings.  Somehow that fact made both of us feel better.

Megan, Judson, and Erika arrived on Saturday and there were toys for her to play with and she was happy but a part of me still watches her and feels my heartstrings tug when I think about what we lost.  It was not just a box of toys!

Eating My Way to Happiness

For as long as I can remember I have had a love hate relationship with food.  It has been the best way to celebrate the good times, the accomplishments, the goals met.  It has relieved my stress and renewed my strength after an anatomy and physiology final among other exams on my way to becoming a nurse.  Food has been my source of comfort when I was feeling sad or lonely, bored, angry, frustrated...  I love food!  I love eating!  Food has been my drug of choice.  Food IS my drug of choice.

I guess I am fortunate to have chosen food over alcohol or drugs but it is no less a problem for me.  I have buried my feelings by eating, in excess, often finding myself at the bottom of a half gallon of ice cream with no idea of how I got there or even what the flavor of the ice cream was.  I have baked chocolate chip cookies and instead of eating one or two I have looked at the cooling rack to find six or eight of the cookies gone. Did I even taste them? I have bought a pound of M&Ms at the convenience store often commenting to the cashier that I needed them for a recipe (God forbid he think I was going to eat them) only to go home, open them and eat the entire bag in one sitting hiding the empty wrapper in the trash to deny it ever happened but I would still be hungry.  Was I hungry?  Why do I continue eating like this?  What am I hungry for?

Figuring out the difference between physical and emotional hunger has been a battle.  I do better some days than others but I am still learning.  I often hear the same comments in the Weight Watchers group I lead and I can truly answer, "I understand!".  For those of us who try to eat our way to happiness there are no easy answers, no quick fixes, no magic words to make it stop.  I have lost almost 200 pounds and there are days when I still battle.  I win more or those battles than I used to but I still find myself on occasion with a bag of M&Ms or a spoon and a carton of ice cream.  I have learned to move forward from those times and forgive myself.  I am a work in progress.  :)

I follow a blog called, "Thighs and Offerings" which is written by a minister named Kate who by her own admission had a serious eating disorder.  She wrote about her battle with emotional eating in a post several years ago.  Here in her words is a description of her battle with pumpkin scones:

  "A pumpkin scone has been far more to me than an acquaintance, and far less than a friend. Truth be told, the role it has played in my life has been that of, I don't know, a lover, an ex-boyfriend you can't quite shake, who you keep seeing and who you keep letting in and who keeps breaking your heart." 

So what is the solution?  What do I do?  I have learned to ask myself two questions BEFORE I put anything in my mouth: Are you hungry and what are you hungry for?  If my answer is anything other than physical hunger I get out of the kitchen, out of the house and far away from any place that sells M&Ms!

Happiness is NOT found at the bottom of a container of ice cream or inside a package of M&Ms.  Happiness is found by loving yourself and knowing you are worthy of the effort you are making to take care of yourself and lose the weight you want to lose.

To those of you who read my blog and fight this battle Kate and I understand! 

Father's Day without my Dad

I said goodbye to my dad almost two years ago.  He had fought a very long battle against congestive heart failure and irreversible heart disease, it was time to go.  I was blessed to be with him during his final hours.  

My dad was an amazing man!  He was a child of God, a Presbyterian preacher, a husband, a father to four, a grandfather to eight and a great grandfather to one.  He was my role model and my friend and I miss him!  He lived a life full of love and service.  I have no doubts about where he is or what he is doing.  As he lay dying a wrote a blog which was called things my dad taught me.  I read it to him before he died and we cried.  He asked me to read it at his memorial service, which I did, and I fought the tears but proudly read it and I got through it.  I can think of no better thing to share for Father's Day so here it is again; lessons from my dad, life lessons.  Happy Father's Day Dad!  I love you!

Here, in no particular order, are just a few of the things my dad has taught me:


If you want to catch fish, you have to use worms and you have to bait your own hook.


When cooking, always clean up as you go.


When playing Boggle, making up words is allowed as long as you snicker while you write them down.  If you are lucky one of them will be a real word.


It is OK to eat your Nana's cream puffs for breakfast.


Patience is a virtue especially when teaching teenagers to drive or when taking  them to pick out a Christmas tree.


God is good all the time.


Say you're sorry and mean it.


Let go of wrongs.


Forgive and forget. (Yes I know those were similar but they were worth repeating)


Love unconditionally.


God always answers prayers but not always the way we expect.


Always do your best.


Never put off saying I love you.


Treat others the way you would like to be treated, especially when it is difficult.


Even grown men like to play with tractors.


When faced with a broken bike, it is a good idea to take it to a bike shop for repairs.

Pay attention to the details.


Dog names are reusable.


If you can't say something nice, be quiet.


Good people come in all shapes, colors, and sizes.


Doing the right thing may not be easy, and no one may notice, but do it anyway.


And finally the one that seems most appropriate on a day like today:


At the end of even the worst day there is always something to be grateful for.


Thank you God for this gracious and loving man you chose to be my father.  

- I tried unsuccesfully to get my dad's favorite hymn to play in the background.  He loved Fairest Lord Jesus which is a beautiful hymn.  I know itunes and youtube have a version you can listen to if you are unfamiliar with it.  Enjoy and be grateful!

Teachers and lessons

I am blessed to have in my life many AMAZING people!  They have taught me so much simply by being themselves.  It always looked so easy as I watched them being themselves but I have come to appreciate the challenges they have each experienced.  I am thankful for the lessons they have taught me and continue to teach me.

My dad was my first teacher. He taught me about love, patience, trust, faith, and God's never ending grace.  He lived his life with great joy, often beginning his day by proclaiming, "This is the day the Lord has made.  I will rejoice and be glad in it!"  He continued to teach even as he died reminding me that at the end of even the very worst day there is ALWAYS something to be grateful for.

Aunt Jean was another teacher.  She made the best homemade noodles, always allowing me to watch and help as she repeated endlessly each step.  She gave the best hugs; pulling me close and tight, wrapping her arms so securely around me you could feel her heart beating.  Unconditional love was her gift.

Another Jean was there during my very difficult teenage years.  She would listen, simply listen as I poured out my hurts.  She would nod and listen never interrupting or trying to correct me but rather let me pour it out until I had said it all.  Jean taught me how to listen and she showed me how to be a mother.

Sarah, (not her name), is a child at my school.  Her body has been contorted by scoliosis.  Her heart and lungs compromised as a result.  Asthma attacks require a portable oxygen tank.  Surgery to correct the scoliosis has nearly cost her her life and yet she smiles and laughs at the silliest things but has full knowledge of the battle she has had to fight too many times for someone so small and her age.  Sarah has taught me all about fierce determination.

Dannie is a former coworker.  He is one of the unfortunate ones with Diabetes.  While we worked together he battled to save a toe which would not heal due to his Diabetes.  When the surgeons removed his toe we thought he would be fine but diabetes frequently has other ideas and they had to amputate his leg.  Diabetes took his leg but did not touch the essence of who he is, what he can teach.    In February he posted this on Facebook:   

Today I came home with my prosthesis, and so I celebrate with a new icon, with apologies to Leo D. It will be tough and awkward going at first, but I'm a tough (and awkward) guy. Soon I'll be slow dancing with The Mrs.  

Dannie did dance with his wife and shared that in a post as well.  I rejoiced.  On Friday Dannie posted another one of his amazing photographs on Flickr.  The photo was of his temporary prosthesis and while the photograph was outstanding I had to smile at his comment:

"This has been my temporary prosthesis since Feb. 21. I've completed out-patient PT, I have been driving, shopping, have been to a Pow-wow, have cooked and baked, and walked for exercise. Friday, I was fitted for my 'permanent' prosthesis, which will be carbon-fiber, titanium, stainless steel and will be very fierce!"

Danny has taught me that even in the midst of terrible personal challenges persistence, perseverance, humor and grace can prevail.

My newest teacher is Faye who is too young to be battling throat cancer and yet she is.  She was warned the surgery necessary to remove the cancer could cause her voice to change and yet in the depths of her battle she found her voice. She smiles when I know her throat must feel like it is on fire.  She steadfastly refuses to take any more pain medication and she keeps on putting one foot in front of the other.  Friday night she participated in The Relay for Life Walk.  Faye and her team walked all night raising money for other cancer victims.  She posted her pictures on Facebook; she is smiling, no grinning and she is joyful!
Faye has taught me all about joy.

I keep hearing my Dad whispering quietly: "At the end of even the very worst day there is always something to be grateful for."  I am grateful for the lessons and the friendships.

To each of you, and the countless others I have not mentioned may I leave you with this from a sermon by  Steven Furtick:

"May you walk in constant courage so that when you face an unchangeable situation in your life, you will have an unwavering faith in an unchangeable God!"

A Most Memorable Day!

Last Saturday, May 5th, 2012, began as most of my Saturday's do lately; the ungodly shrill of my alarm clock woke me up at 5:45 AM! I made my way towards the shower so I could get ready for my two Weight Watcher's meetings.  The first group I lead begins at 7:30 AM but I like to get there early so I get going.  I stop at McDonald's on my way and get a large coffee and a yogurt parfait.  I arrive at the center a bit earlier than I am required to which gives me time to get my meeting set up the way I want it, scan inventory to see how supplies are and check out any new products that have come in since Tuesday when I was last there.  I gulp down the yogurt, have a team meeting and unlock the door on time.  I am in my groove and I am happy.  The first meeting goes well and I move on to the second which goes equally as well.  It feels as if time flies.  I am finished.  Normally I would pack my stuff up and head home stopping by the consignment shop to see if I can snag any bargains but today I am in a hurry.  I am heading to Greenville for my Weight Watcher territory's Celebration event.

My husband drives me to Greenville and we discuss plans for the rest of the day.  I arrive on time, find the other Rock Hill staff members and we find a seat at a table and prepare for a nice chat and lunch.  Lunch was wonderful!  We had a beautiful grilled chicken breast salad complete with candied pecans and strawberries.  The salad dressing was a garlic yogurt dill and it was very good.  Chocolate mousse in a parfait glass was dessert.  I tasted the mousse but left it alone but did eat every bite of the dark chocolate garnish it was topped with.  After lunch the awards and celebrations began.  We had fun celebrating the total weight loss of the staff sitting at each of the tables.  My table came in second with over 600 pounds lost!  We added up years of service for each table and I was so surprised with the large numbers and we said a fond goodbye to our current territory manager, Diane, and a warm hello to her replacement, out new territory manager, Tisha.  I was sad to see Diane move on since she was the one who was willing to fight to get me hired.  She had faith in me.  She saw the flame and enthusiasm I wanted to desperately to share.  She understood!  I don't know Tisha and she doesn't know me but Diane was moving on to new challenges and a larger territory so I was happy for her.  I will get to know Tisha.  It will be fine especially knowing Diane hired Tisha!

Awards were next and I listened and watched as all of the awards were given.  It was a great event!  Everyone was having a good time.  My attention was peaked after Diane presented the outstanding Rookie Receptionist of the Year award.  I sat and listened as she began describing the qualities of the leader who would receive the next award, The Rookie Leader of the Year.  I remember thinking Wow as she described this leader and then the most unbelievable thing happened;  She said "This year's Rookie Leader of the Year is Lynn Thompson!" Did she just say my name?  I walked to the front of the room fighting tears, so honored, so humbled, so proud!  I remember saying something.  I know I said thank you. I am so grateful!  I am Lynn Thompson and I am the Rookie Leader of the Year for Territory 7115!