Health | BulgingButtons

November 2, 2013
by BulgingButtons 11 Comments

Fat and the Writing Lifestyle

November has come screaming in with the beginning of NaNoWriMo and the fantastic workshop I attended this morning. It was my first novel writing workshop, and it was so well done. The fact that it was also free and included a catered lunch was even better.

Then, once home, I discovered the NaBloPoMo challenge. I am such a sucker for challenges, especially ones that I think I have a chance at completing. This one, to publish a blog post a day, seemed like a no brainer for me. I post often, sometimes more than once a day. I signed up and grabbed their badge.

That got me thinking about other challenges, notably my 47 for 47 challenge. Uh oh. There are lots of items on that list that are yet to be crossed off. In fact, most of them. Oops.

The thing is, the more I live a “writerly” life, the further I’m getting from my health and fitness goals. Last night, as I produced my 2,300 words I munched on m & m’s. Hmmmm. Writers can eat grapes as they write. They don’t need m & m’s. I can also think about my characters or upcoming chapters as I walk on the treadmill. I need to keep this in mind as I immerse myself in words. I need to remember to take care of the physical, even while I’m focusing my energy on the mental.

October 30, 2013
by BulgingButtons 9 Comments

Where Do I Even Begin?

No doubt many of you have already seen this little gem by now and have formed your own opinions about it. My first reaction? You have got to be kidding me. My next reaction involved some choice words that I prefer to keep out of print for now.

I think the story goes something like this: a woman in the midwest wants to do her civic duty by proclaiming her neighbors’ children obese and giving them notes to that effect instead of candy on Halloween night. The notes not only explain what a wonderful service she is doing them, but go on to suggest that the parents ration the candy the children happen to accumulate from the disappointing neighbors who might stoop to give them any.

Jeez, talk about fat shaming. This is fat shaming and parent shaming and just plain old nastiness all rolled into one self-serving holier-than-thou pile of crap. Let’s face it, this note is just plain mean.

Here’s the deal, I’m usually a pretty open minded individual. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, and I generally try to convince myself that people have others’ best interests at heart. In this case I just don’t see it.

If you think giving candy to some kids and mean spirited notes to others is somehow going to improve their health, you’re out of your mind. You’re worried about childhood obesity? Don’t give out candy. Better yet, don’t give out anything. Turn off your light and stay away from the windows. Your neighbors will probably thank you. Especially those with the chubby children who you will target with your ill conceived notes.

Notes which, by the way, you apparently spent considerable time on, including a cute graphic. Which makes me wonder if this is even real. Who shared this with the world? Halloween hasn’t happened yet. Is someone pulling the wool over our eyes? Are we being pranked?

I hope so , because you don’t know every child’s story. You don’t know every family’s story. Neither do I. If they’re letting their kids trick-or-treat that’s their business. If you don’t want to participate, don’t. You don’t get to pick and choose which kids get a treat and which kids don’t. If you don’t have something nice to say, say nothing. Sit this one out and admit that maybe you’re not the expert on everything. You want to help kids? Help your community? Fantastic. This is not the way to do it.

October 25, 2013
by BulgingButtons 9 Comments

Feeling My Age – What a Pain in the Back

So there I was, minding my own business, asleep in my bed. The alarm has the audacity to wake me at its usual mocking time of 5:25. I hate you, 5:25. I hate you alarm. I hate early morning in general. It rubs me the wrong way. Anyway, I get up after just one touch of the snooze button and start my day. Woo hoo. I feel a little stiff, back a little sore. Hmm, maybe I slept funny. No big deal.

I shower, dress, and go about my business. I drive to work, do my teaching thing, and have a generally so-so kind of day. Then it starts. OW. My back starts spasming and siezing. Damn, this hurts! Fortunately I have already released the cherubs to the care of the music and PE teachers, and I have time to writhe in peace. Seriously, this f’ing hurts.

I leave, wince as I buckle my seatbelt, and gather my teen. He is sympathetic. Bless him. Then I head home to start dinner and face the evening. My sweetheart comes in the door with not only the rest of the dinner fixin’s, but relief for my crazy back. Ben Gay adhesive patches. I’m thrilled to see them. I had been hoping that there might have been a painkiller or two left over from my last surgery, but then I remembered that I was prescribed a very small amount of those… I was rationing them from the start.

We finish dinner and he puts one on me. OH! It feels like ice cold goo is being applied to your back, then it almost instantly turns warm. Not overly warm though. It helps. So does the ibuprophen. I’m a bum all evening, barely moving at all.

I get ready for bed, changing patches (with sweetheart’s help, it’s hard enough to put something on your back, but when it’s painful to twist, well, that’s another problem all together), and hoping that I will sleep. I do.

The alarm rings at 5:25. Dammit. I hate that alarm. But I can move. Yes, it still hurts, but the stabbing sensation is gone. Thank goodness for ibuprophen, a wonderful man, and a gooey feeling bandage. Like my mom says, “getting older sucks.” That may be true much of the time, but it sure beats the alternative.