The first nail in the coffin of my weight loss was having to pack my kitchen for the move. Thus entered Way Too Much Fast Food. Then I moved and my stress level was through the stratosphere the last two months and I've been insanely busy and I'm just now starting to breathe well enough to start to be able to take care of me. I've not gone to any of my Weight Watchers meetings since we moved b/c I knew if I was tracking points then I'd have to stop stress eating and I couldn't afford to not stress eat b/c I couldn't do any of my healthy stress options b/c my top 4 ways to deal w/ my stress in POSITIVE ways are:
1. Work Out
2. Garden
3. Make Jewelry
4. Hang out with Girlfriends
And I've been either too busy or too broke to do any of the above! So I've been eating (b/c it was that or have a complete break down and cease to function). This is the problem with a food addiction. The second I stop tracking every damn thing that goes in my mouth, its like an alcoholic going on a bender. And I know its so bad and I hate like hell that I have gained so much weight. I've gained back everything I lost when I was pregnant. I'm 9 pounds away from my heaviest weight ever.
The state of my mental health can best be described as: Not Good.
So I'm trying to stop it. I'm trying to make healthier choices. I've been praying hard. I NEED to exercise. I realized my only pair of tennis shoes was literally coming apart at the seams so I finally spent some of my stashed birthday money and got my first new pair in over 10 years. But my joints are hurting so badly from the extra weight and I'm so badly out of shape from being on bed rest forever with this pregnancy that I really feel like I need to start out in the water.
Problem: I can't find my stupid swimsuit anywhere. I can't figure out what happened to it. Crap. I remember seeing that bag and going "We are going to want these for sure and soon" and then I think I put them "some place safe" which means we may never see them again.... *head desk* Well, my suit was 3 years old anyways and starting to look a little ragged in the hindquarters, I should just get a new one.
So given my delicate mental state atm, I pep talked myself into going swim suit shopping. Alone. With nobody for moral support. But if I waited for moral support it would take even longer. I told myself its not going to be that bad, I will just go to Target, I got my last 3 swim suits there. Odds are it will be fine and I can find something and just try not to cry too much when you look in the mirror in the dressing room.
So then I get to Target. And I start looking. There's a huge swim suit section. Its the size of my living room! Sweet! ... except its all skinny people sized. Crap. Okay, lets find the women's section.
So I go find the Plus sized section.... except it all appears to be Maternity. Its like the biggest damn maternity section I've ever seen outside an actual maternity store. I finally find a tiny rack w/ 4 suits.... except those are maternity too. WTF??
So I go find a sales person and ask where the Plus Size suits are. Answer: There are none.
I'm sorry, say what now?
There are no plus sized swim suits. In fact the only plus sized clothing in the whole store is one single rack of WORK OUT CLOTHES.
I asked the manager what was up. She was very proud and positive about the "brand new line they just got in!!" (The work out clothes) and apparently they're having problems with a supplier and contracts not working out right.
So I freaked out on FB and found some things out: Apparently Target has a problem with fat people. They just issued a public apology b/c one of their dresses that they had in skinny people size and plus size was labeled "Heather Grey" in little people sizes and "Manatee Grey" in Plus sizes. (I shit you not)
So if thats the reason why they had to suddenly cut ties with their supplier I can kinda get it, but really you only had ONE supplier for a clothing size that 40% of the population wears?? Somehow I can't see it ever happening that you'd just plain close shop on the skinny people section for a couple months while you get your shit together.
So I felt smacked. I felt insulted. I felt like I don't wanna shop there ever again (and I love me some Target). And now I get to go on a whole swim suit hunting expedition elsewhere. And so I cried.
Friday, March 21, 2014
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
My son is Autistic
Its official. We got the diagnosis today.
I'm still processing about it. I need to brain dump here so I can sleep.
My degree is in Psychology. I am extremely familiar with the diagnostic criterion for the Autism Spectrum. And yes for the last two years The Boy has been pinging my radar. I wondered. I told myself I was being paranoid. You do that. You over analyse everything. Every freshman psych student goes thru a phase where they become the psych equivalent of a hypochondriac and you have to tell yourself to shut up and you're just seeing things.
But sometimes you're right.
He started out so blissfully normal. Such a good, sweet, happy, cuddly baby boy (he is still a good sweet happy cuddly kid). Absolutely normal developmental track, a little ahead of the curve even. He used to make eye contact no problem. And try as I might I don't remember when he stopped.
It wasn't abrupt. I would have noticed. Just an odd quirk that turned into a phase that never ended and only got worse. The drawing. The refusal to use words. The clock obsession.
I remember thinking one time when I was holding my perfect baby boy how grateful I was that he didn't ping for anything on the spectrum and that I was grateful that I wouldn't have to deal with that with him. The crazy horrible voice in the back of my head wonders if this is punishment for that, that I didn't knock on wood or I was prideful and this is my punishment for hubris. Something stupid and equally batshit. But it whispers in the background like horrible little voices always do.
He's still perfect and I know this doesn't change who he is magically just b/c we have a name for things but in some ways it changes nothing and in others it changes everything.
I remember hearing how when you find out your child has a "disability" you go through a mourning phase because in some ways its a death.
Earlier today I had the thought: They're right. Its the death of the child that I thought I was raising. He is still my son, I still love him. I still think he hangs the moon and his spirit is still the same incredible little soul I have the privilege and honor to play the role of mortal mother to, but I wonder now about his potential in this life.
He's smart. Super, duper smart. The doctor was very optimistic about his long term outcome. But will he ever get married? Have a family? Be a father? Serve a mission? In this life? Now, I don't know. Eternally I know that nothing will be denied to him because of this. I know he's such an exceptional spirit that he doesn't have to be tested in the usual fashion.
But the odds of sending my son on his mission, watching him marry and having another daughter join our family and beautiful, gorgeous grandbabies, just got a whole lot smaller. It might happen, but it might not. And for that I mourn. B/c thats what I thought I was preparing him for. I remember picking his name and thinking, "It has a good ring to it. You could even see it across the bottom of the screen at General Conference. It would make a good General Authority Name."
The odds of that happening have diminished.
I had a friend in college. We will call him John. John was an awesome guy. Weird, but he is Aspergers (back when thats what you called it) and he was crazy smart but weird. Good friend. Constantly touched you if he was talking to you. Immature but nice. Aced every class he took in the engineering program (b/c they don't care if you're weird) and didn't even have to study but couldn't drive a car. They put him in the Corps and he thrived with the structure. He even got married (in my opinion the chick was a nutjob, no offense to John but she was and she would kinda have to be for them to work...) and they even had a kid or two but now they're divorced. I know divorce happens but I can't help but think it was all but inevitable in that case. And now the kids are left with a Dad that is an odd duck at the best of times and a nutjob for a mother.
I don't want that for my boy. I want the career track. I don't want him to wind up 20 years old and unable to function in the real world b/c he didn't go to college and he can't work with the public or get hired. I want him to use his marvelous intelligence and be as independent and successful as he can possibly be. Engineering will probably be an excellent fit. They don't care if you act funny (they all do there. I went to aTm. I would know...).
And now I look at The Girl. I look at her gorgeous, brilliant smile and I feel a tinge of fear. B/c I know now, that it doesn't matter. It doesn't really mean she's okay. I mean yes of course thats life and theres always a risk we could all die tomorrow, but this feels different. Hints of feeling cheated. He was perfect and in hindsight it was like a veil slowly coming down and I was helpless to stop it. Stop him from going away. And I mean its Autism. You can't fight it. You can't fix it or cure it. I didn't cause it. Theres nothing I could have done differently.
So so gradual. "Wow he loves to color" to "That kid just spent 20 solid minutes coloring" ... " an hour" ... "two hours"... "He colored all afternoon today"... "Is that normal? But wow he's so talented. You can actually tell what that is"...
... He's being a snot and he's started ignoring me when I talk to him. I have to tell him to look at me... He's just so focused on his task I have to tell him to look when he's talking to me, Mommy is deaf and needs to read your lips and he doesn't get it. ... I have to turn off the TV to get him to respond... I have to grab his chin and order him to look at me to get him to make eye contact...
He still does make great eye contact sometimes, but usually when its just us and he looks at me with those big gorgeous soulful brown eyes and that incandescent smile and I'm so grateful I'm his Mommy.
If it has to be The Spectrum I'm grateful its the high end. It could be so much worse. Its not like he's dead. Its just a big mental shift b/c now its official.
My son has Autism.
I'm still processing about it. I need to brain dump here so I can sleep.
My degree is in Psychology. I am extremely familiar with the diagnostic criterion for the Autism Spectrum. And yes for the last two years The Boy has been pinging my radar. I wondered. I told myself I was being paranoid. You do that. You over analyse everything. Every freshman psych student goes thru a phase where they become the psych equivalent of a hypochondriac and you have to tell yourself to shut up and you're just seeing things.
But sometimes you're right.
He started out so blissfully normal. Such a good, sweet, happy, cuddly baby boy (he is still a good sweet happy cuddly kid). Absolutely normal developmental track, a little ahead of the curve even. He used to make eye contact no problem. And try as I might I don't remember when he stopped.
It wasn't abrupt. I would have noticed. Just an odd quirk that turned into a phase that never ended and only got worse. The drawing. The refusal to use words. The clock obsession.
I remember thinking one time when I was holding my perfect baby boy how grateful I was that he didn't ping for anything on the spectrum and that I was grateful that I wouldn't have to deal with that with him. The crazy horrible voice in the back of my head wonders if this is punishment for that, that I didn't knock on wood or I was prideful and this is my punishment for hubris. Something stupid and equally batshit. But it whispers in the background like horrible little voices always do.
He's still perfect and I know this doesn't change who he is magically just b/c we have a name for things but in some ways it changes nothing and in others it changes everything.
I remember hearing how when you find out your child has a "disability" you go through a mourning phase because in some ways its a death.
Earlier today I had the thought: They're right. Its the death of the child that I thought I was raising. He is still my son, I still love him. I still think he hangs the moon and his spirit is still the same incredible little soul I have the privilege and honor to play the role of mortal mother to, but I wonder now about his potential in this life.
He's smart. Super, duper smart. The doctor was very optimistic about his long term outcome. But will he ever get married? Have a family? Be a father? Serve a mission? In this life? Now, I don't know. Eternally I know that nothing will be denied to him because of this. I know he's such an exceptional spirit that he doesn't have to be tested in the usual fashion.
But the odds of sending my son on his mission, watching him marry and having another daughter join our family and beautiful, gorgeous grandbabies, just got a whole lot smaller. It might happen, but it might not. And for that I mourn. B/c thats what I thought I was preparing him for. I remember picking his name and thinking, "It has a good ring to it. You could even see it across the bottom of the screen at General Conference. It would make a good General Authority Name."
The odds of that happening have diminished.
I had a friend in college. We will call him John. John was an awesome guy. Weird, but he is Aspergers (back when thats what you called it) and he was crazy smart but weird. Good friend. Constantly touched you if he was talking to you. Immature but nice. Aced every class he took in the engineering program (b/c they don't care if you're weird) and didn't even have to study but couldn't drive a car. They put him in the Corps and he thrived with the structure. He even got married (in my opinion the chick was a nutjob, no offense to John but she was and she would kinda have to be for them to work...) and they even had a kid or two but now they're divorced. I know divorce happens but I can't help but think it was all but inevitable in that case. And now the kids are left with a Dad that is an odd duck at the best of times and a nutjob for a mother.
I don't want that for my boy. I want the career track. I don't want him to wind up 20 years old and unable to function in the real world b/c he didn't go to college and he can't work with the public or get hired. I want him to use his marvelous intelligence and be as independent and successful as he can possibly be. Engineering will probably be an excellent fit. They don't care if you act funny (they all do there. I went to aTm. I would know...).
And now I look at The Girl. I look at her gorgeous, brilliant smile and I feel a tinge of fear. B/c I know now, that it doesn't matter. It doesn't really mean she's okay. I mean yes of course thats life and theres always a risk we could all die tomorrow, but this feels different. Hints of feeling cheated. He was perfect and in hindsight it was like a veil slowly coming down and I was helpless to stop it. Stop him from going away. And I mean its Autism. You can't fight it. You can't fix it or cure it. I didn't cause it. Theres nothing I could have done differently.
So so gradual. "Wow he loves to color" to "That kid just spent 20 solid minutes coloring" ... " an hour" ... "two hours"... "He colored all afternoon today"... "Is that normal? But wow he's so talented. You can actually tell what that is"...
... He's being a snot and he's started ignoring me when I talk to him. I have to tell him to look at me... He's just so focused on his task I have to tell him to look when he's talking to me, Mommy is deaf and needs to read your lips and he doesn't get it. ... I have to turn off the TV to get him to respond... I have to grab his chin and order him to look at me to get him to make eye contact...
He still does make great eye contact sometimes, but usually when its just us and he looks at me with those big gorgeous soulful brown eyes and that incandescent smile and I'm so grateful I'm his Mommy.
If it has to be The Spectrum I'm grateful its the high end. It could be so much worse. Its not like he's dead. Its just a big mental shift b/c now its official.
My son has Autism.
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