BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl


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Leftover Words: Why Can’t I Hear My Body?

The following is my attempt at today’s daily prompt: Today, publish a post based on unused material from a previous piece –a paragraph you nixed, a link you didn’t include, a photo you decided not to use.

hand-to-ear-listening

Why Can’t I Hear My Body?

This eat the right thing and get enough sleep and make sure to move my body thing just hasn’t been working out recently. I could give you all the reasons, but honestly, it will just sound like a list of excuses, so I’ll spare you the details and just skip it.

This, of course, has been an ongoing battle for me. Sometimes things click and I do well, and other times I slip into my old bad habits and any progress toward improving my health habits quickly disappears. It’s frustrating, especially since it’s purely my choices that derail me.

I had a conversation several months ago with a yoga instructor about some of these struggles (as we were enjoying our cocktails and hors d’oevres). She has worked with all sorts of people over the years, with all sorts of body types and issues. She is also human, and has had her own struggles over the years. She has changed her diet more than once, and her advice to me was, “listen to your body.”

It sounded like good advice. Our bodies, after all, are incredible. They do so much for us, and they constantly make tiny adjustments without us even thinking about it. The whole keeping the heart beating and keeping the lungs breathing routine is awe-inspiring. The body is no dummy, so it makes sense to try to listen to it. I’m okay with this idea. In fact, I kind of like the thought.

The problem, however, is that my body and I don’t seem to speak the same language. I have no idea what it’s saying much of the time. I confuse fatigue with hunger, and I often allow myself to get to the point where I’m completely parched, or the opposite, my bladder feels as though it might explode. How come I don’t take care of these things earlier? I just don’t really seem to notice or understand the signals that my body gives. Either that, or my body gives me the wrong signals.

That was certainly the case during my pregnancy. I had no idea I was pregnant for several months. Why? Because to me it appeared that my cycle was functioning as normal. I saw no change in the monthly rhythm, even though I was pregnant. Pregnant-Belly-with-HeartHow am I supposed to listen to a body that doesn’t even give me a clue that it’s pregnant? Oh sure, I began to look a little thicker around the middle, but I’m a big girl, and putting on a few pounds with the arrival of cooler weather didn’t raise an eyebrow. In retrospect I should have noticed some movement, but I had never been pregnant before and put it down to some kind of digestive upset.

I used to mock those people who didn’t know they were pregnant. How could they be so stupid? Well, I’m not stupid, but it wasn’t until late December that I suspected I might be expecting, and got the confirmation. I was given a due date in August, but in a subsequent appointment the doctor shook his head and told me I was much further along than that. An ultrasound was ordered on the spot, and my due date was moved up to April. Junior arrived on April Fool’s Day weighing in at a healthy eight pounds. Perfect timing. I was six months pregnant before I even knew I was having a baby. And this is the body I’m supposed to listen to?

So yes, I try to pay attention, but it’s difficult when we don’t seem to speak the same language. I know there are certain things that will benefit my body regardless of the signs or signals I might miss. Good food and exercise will always be helpful, so I’ll keep on trying, even if I have no idea what my body is actually saying to me.


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Throwback Thursday- The Orthodontist

imagesThis evening my son had soup for dinner. It was about all he could manage, after a trip to the orthodontist this morning. Usually he’s fine after his visits, but today was a different story. He’s nearing the end of his braces-wearing days, and his orthodontist did something to speed him across the finish line.

I feel badly for him. I know how much orthodontia can hurt. I endured years of it myself. Too many years, in fact.  Here are some fun facts about my personal experience with the world of orthodontics.

1. The nightmare began with some sort of wire along the roof of my mouth when I was just five. I’m pretty sure that nowadays that sort of thing would be classified as child abuse.

2. My orthodontist was also my mother’s orthodontist, which means he was about a hundred and twenty years old by the time I got to him.

3. The orthodontist occupied the top floor of the same medical building where my dad had his dermatology practice. Once in a while we would stop in and see him, but not often.

4. There was a coffee shop on the ground floor of the building. The cook’s name was Jasper, and he made excellent grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate milkshakes.

5. Every year at Halloween the orthodontist displayed the same poster of a ton of Halloween candy with a revolting looking witch with rotten teeth.

6. The orthodontist collected old mechanical banks, and a few times he showed me some of them in action.

7. My baby teeth never fell out. Whenever he discovered one that was even slightly wiggly, he would yank it out with a tool that looked like it belonged to an auto mechanic. Anesthesia? I wish.

8. Remember Anthony Michael Hall’s headgear in Sixteen Candles? Yeah, I had one of those.

9. There was a display case in each exam room with row upon row of plaster casts of various snaggle-toothed mouths. There must have been decades worth of hapless patients represented in those cases.

10. The nightmare finally ended when I was fourteen. Nine. Years. Later. I’m fairly certain there’s something in the Geneva Convention about that.

I’m glad the field of orthodontics has evolved. For the most part, my son’s experience has been fairly painless, and his orthodontist has never yanked any of his teeth out with pliers. Still, I’m looking forward to the end. Even after all these years, I still get a little nervous every time I walk through the orthodontist’s door.


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Welcome to the Crazy that we Call November

tumblr_mctpaoujxl1qk32z8o1_500The trick-or-treaters are all gone, and only a few candy wrappers were blowing around the empty street this morning. I’m debating whether to put away the Halloween decorations today or wait until Monday. It seems like they should stay up through the weekend. I even hit the half price section of my major discount retailer this morning for a few strands of orange lights and a three foot tall monster yard decoration. Oh, and a couple of bags of half price candy. We ran out last night and I’m a candy addict, I admit it.39677b717efbbcd1367b367cb27c2f6c

So now that another holiday is officially in the books, the craziness that is November begins. We start the month with the vestiges of Halloween, and the candy and mess (think rotting pumpkins) it leaves behind. As soon as we get that all put away, we turn our attention to Thanksgiving. Who will be coming over, what dishes should we serve? And if you live at my house, how shall we prepare the turkey? Fried, smoked, or roasted? Decisions, decisions. Then, the day after that’s all done, as we’re enjoying leftovers, we turn our attention to Christmas. Up goes the tree, and out go the crazy black Friday shoppers. No offense, but I enjoy sleep way too much to get up in the middle of the night to fight crowds and spend money. No, thank you.

Mix into all of that a little thing called NaNoWriMo, where you challenge yourself to write a whole novel in November, and another little thing called NaBloPoMo, where you challenge yourself to blog everyday, and you have a recipe for madness. The really weird part about it all? I did it last year (oh, and threw in a very early Chanukah to boot) and honestly, I LOVED it! I blogged everyday. I wrote a manuscript of over 50,000 words. I cleaned up from Halloween, celebrated Thanksgiving, celebrated Chanukah, and prepared for Christmas. I also taught full-time and parented a teen and maintained a relationship with my fiance. I rocked it!

So here we are back at November 1. I’m in a new home, but everything else is the same. Do I think I can do it again? Why not! I won’t know unless I try, so by golly I’m going to try. Hang on to your hat, because November is here!