My Spin: On The Culprit and The Cure

I'm not prone to discussing informative/self-help books.  I find they generally make for lousy discussion since you either agree with them or you don't, so all you could do in a discussion is nod your head like a sycophant, or argue.  Neither of which appeals to me.  (And I haven't the attention span to read much else lately, so I've pretty much given up on goodreads)   I tried this once by suggesting Raising Cain for a relief society bookclub, and the resulting meeting was ugly.

So I tenuously want to tell you about a book I read.  The Culprit and the Cure.  

In many ways, this book is the biggest dose of common sense you already know that you could find to read. The gist of it is so obvious it feels silly to summarize it.  Healthy people tend to live longer, and have higher quality of life.  Your health improves if you eat healthy foods in healthy amounts, and are physically active.  The end.  Sort of.   

The thing that made this book work for me, was that is was beyond thorough.  Dr Aldana has read pretty much every paper written about every study ever done regarding diet and exercise, and has spent considerable time researching behavioral science as well.  He makes it very clear from the get-go that he's not sharing his opinion with you in this book, he's just trying to make the behemoth of information he's digested fit in a bite-sized book.  What surprised me, (but probably not him) was that arming myself with the facts, statistics, and information in this book provides a pretty steady stream of motivation to make changes. 

I love that he was very non-judgmental about how so many of us end up in the unhealthy fixes that we do, and that he provided a multitude of reasons to exercise that have absolutely nothing to do with weight loss.  I am as prone to vanity as anybody, but I loathe vanity as a reason to diet or exercise.  A superficial motivator cannot create a lifelong lifestyle change.  I think feeling better, having more energy, flexibility, and agility are more along the right line of thinking.  And wanting to live a long, healthy life and not be a burden on our families or the healthcare system is maybe an even better reason.  

This book is full of details about every type of food you could think of to eat, and what is scientifically known and suspected about it.  I felt it cleared up a lot of the haze in my brain over fats of all sorts, and about grains. The section about glycemic index and about dairy were also surprisingly enlightening.  

Because of the academic nature of the material in this book, it does get a little dry in parts.  But overall, I think it's probably the best comprehensive source of proven information on diet and exercise that I'm likely to come across.  It's also full of tips on how to make small, realistic changes, as well as advice on how to make the bigger, harder ones.  The behavioral science take on this information is invaluable.  

I guess I'm destined to find all this interesting because I have a personal conviction that keeping my family healthy and teaching my children healthy habits is part of my parental stewardship on a very spiritual level.  I've also been flinging the book at my family with evangelical zeal, with no real takers.  (Although Mr Renn has consented and is listening to the book on CD).  

I love the idea of preventing illness and disease.  I love the idea of being healthy and energetic into old age.  I really rather love the idea of being a good steward of my body, and recognizing it as a miraculous creation and gift of God.   Besides, healthy people have more fun.

So, um.... go read it.  

Scraping together my happiness heritage

The paradox about my current state of unrest is that I have absolutely nothing to complain about.  Well, nothing legitimate.  All of my basic needs are being met.  Mr Renn has a job, and is qualified for hopefully perpetual employment.  We are able and willing to have children.  We've a roof over our heads, food to eat, and the gospel in our lives.

I ought to be over the moon.

But in my current state of malaise and physical limitation, my brain goes a mile a minute and gets frustrated with my body that can't keep up.  My mom told me today that if I plan to keep having kids 2-ish years apart that I need to stop thinking of that level of functioning as below par.  It needs to be normal, and anything above that is just a bonus.  I don't know if I can let my expectations drop that low, I might get dangerously depressed.

I am thankful that the Captain is finally getting to the point where he can actually play with Sir O.  Their play never goes smoothly for more than 3 minutes, but it's something.  Unfortunately Sir O seems to be hard-wired as a kid that cannot self-direct.  His imagination is intact, but he has to be told what to play or what to imagine, in order for it to cognate.  I find myself trying to come up with things for him to do all.day.long.  And being the girly-girl that I am, I have a hard time.  Between the prego-exhaustion and this perpetual circus of parental damage-control I don't get a whole lot of self-actualized productivity in my days.

And if I could just be okay with that everybody would be hunky-dory.

Amongst my multitudinous quirks, I have a burning desire to feel productive.  (You know, where you accomplish something and immediately have something to show for it) This I can likely claim as a heritage of my mother.  But in addition I have an intrinsic need to create, and a malnourished aesthetic sensitivity that has tortured me most of my life, because I was raised to be utilitarian and married Mr. Sensible.

Did I mention that I'm also a perfectionist?   Do me a favor and do not wish this lethal combination of quirks on anyone.  Between needing to feel productive, needing to create, caring to the point of irrationality about how things look (and subsequently feel), and being a perfectionist.....(oh, and the bonus pregnant nesting instinct)  I'm not sure  how I'm ever supposed to be content.

In Elementary school I was voted "most creative" at the end of year class-awards from 3rd-6th grade.  By 6th grade it was not even exciting to look forward to the ceremony.  No suspense whatsoever.

I was one of those people who just about danced with happiness when Elder Uchtdorf validated my desire to be creative.   If only he had also somehow validated the price tag that can come with most of my material creative pursuits.  (Which are not exorbitant, but are still not free, which in my case makes them prohibitive).

How's that for a vague and round-about way of saying that I'm wanting to nest like crazy, but can't.?  For the third time in a row.   Just once I'd like to get a nursery all "ready" for a baby and see what it feels like, if the crazy frustration I experience would go away.  (Granted I got to post-nest a little with Sir O, but preparing a nursery with an infant in tow is NOT taking advantage of pregnancy nesting)  But I have to wonder, what would it be like to bring the baby home from the hospital and have a quiet, peaceful, attractive little spot to land with him?

Mr Renn is quick to point out that very few people in the world have large enough houses to even have bedrooms, let alone a separate room for the baby.  That's the part where I start throwing things at him.

There is no way to explain how important aesthetics can be for someone who is easily emotionally affected by them to a person who is not.   And in this house, I am the only sensitive one; I guess.

To Mr Renn's credit, he'd let me do whatever the heck I'm itching to do if there was any money for it.  But seeing that we could easily own a nice house for all the student debt we have, and his paycheck is very lean and studenty, and we're needing to invest in a larger vehicle soon...... his common sense wins out over his compassion.

Rats.

95 degrees

I love holidays, and I love celebrating.
But being a pregnant lady outside in the heat is a bit brutal.

Still, being able to spend Pioneer Day wrapped up in the traditions I grew up with was incredibly rewarding.  We caught the Bountiful Parade on the 23rd, and Sir O managed to come away with a few pounds of candy for me to hide from him.



(Can you spot me melting?)



Then my mom's family got together to watch the Bountiful fireworks, and to celebrate July birthdays.  Lucky Sir O got me to make yet another birthday cake of sorts.....



Then we spent the 24th at a family reunion.  It was nice to finally capture this song for posterity.  My great-grandfather (who lived to 105) is forever and always remembered in association with this song.  (And here's 4 of his 6 kids singing it)



We managed to squeeze in one more family get-together on our way home.  My grandpa's sister infamously makes homemade yeast-brew root beer and fresh apricot pie every 24th of July.  I talked her into teaching me how to make the pie.  I cannot wait to have such a gem of a family recipe in my arsenal!



And now we're back into dog-day everyday summer-ness.  Luckily these boys are pretty fond of each other. If I can just figure out what to have them do with themselves all day that doesn't destroy property or involve high risk of bodily harm I'll be set.

choppy

I've no energy for coherence.

Here's a look inside my disjointed brain.



I was waiting to have my blood drawn for my glucose test (a month late) and re-runs of "Friends" were on in the waiting room.  I remember that show being hugely popular when I was in Junior High, and feeling kind of dorky because I didn't watch it. (I've only once in my life watched a tv show with any regularity, and that was due to peer pressure in college).   As I sat in the waiting room and tried to read my book, I kept getting distracted by how utterly inappropriate the content of "Friends" was for 12-15 year olds.  I'm pretty confident the world of television has gotten worse since then. Have I mentioned that we don't watch any TV?  Movies, yes.  But television, it's been booted.  And after you live without it for a while, having one on in the room starts to feel awfully invasive.  And commercials start to feel like the spawn of Satan.

I don't fit in any of my maternity jeans.  I'm not sure how I'm going to dress myself for the next 2 1/2 months.

A permanent feature of pregnancy for me involves having a nasty taste in my mouth.  It's a nasty taste distinct to pregnancy and it vanishes with delivery.  I think it's about on par with Chinese water torture.

I tried to exercise with both boys awake yesterday.  It was a joke.  Apparently a very funny joke.

I took both boys to the new pediatrician for the first time today.  They both got the same shot (some pneumonia booster?) and while the Captain had a grand total of 1 alligator tear over it, Sir O screamed bloody murder and refused to walk for 3 hours afterward.  The contrast between these boys can be profound sometimes.

Speaking of seeing the pediatrician, apparently it's worrisome that the Captain isn't speaking yet.  I guess he ought to be speaking in 2 word sentences by now.  Am I ready to worry about this?

And how is it that I'm perpetually surprised at what a difference a few consecutive nights of sleep can make?  (I'm not saying this because I've gotten them, rather because not getting them has made me so terribly incoherent).

Maybe that's the solution to the world's problems.  If everyone got enough sleep all the nonsense and orneriness would go away.

No?  Maybe?  We'll probably never know.

did you know?

That 6 helium balloons can entertain an 18 month old for days on end?

1461 days

It would be 1460, but I'm pretty sure we've had a leap year.
That's how long I've been a mom.
You know, to a real live person (Sir O).

I'm not sure how I feel about that.
Did it go by fast or slow?
Is short years, long days an option?

Per my gestational slump, celebrations were below par.
Luckily this kid loved them anyway.  He's still expectationless, and I'm relishing that while it lasts.

On the docket:

Sir O got to spend a lot of one-on-one time with his dad today.  They ran errands, and then hit the water park.



(I stayed home and baked a strawberry birthday cake.  I was pretty committed to the recipe by the time I realized how pink it was going to be....)



Mr Renn made a yummy dinner - smoked pork loin, dilly potato salad, mixed melon, bacon baked beans, and rolls.  We invited his parents over and feasted.  (I took Sir O to pick out balloons while dad made dinner.  I love it that 6 helium balloons is all it takes to make a birthday official for a 4 year old).

After dinner we let Sir O open a few presents.  Only one of the gifts I bought for him (online, I'm anti-leave-the-house lately) arrived in time.  Luckily he liked it.  A lot.



My dad wrapped up Sir O's special day with a ride on the horses.  It was a first-time experience for both of the boys and they surprised me by not being the least bit scared.  I'm pretty sure Sir O will be pestering my dad for rides incessantly from now on.









I'm relieved to say that despite my failing to plan anything impressive, Sir O seemed pretty thrilled with his day.  (Which totally doesn't give me permission to slack off...   except when pregnant or recovering from a cross-country move, or both.)

July is eating me

Mr Renn's sister was in town from Detroit yesterday, so we attempted an extended family portrait. Betwixt the 10.5 grandkids, I foresee a lot of photoshopping. I mean, we couldn't even get a decent photo of our 2.



Aren't you just loving the Captain's radioactive summer hair?  The mom who's always been a brunette finds it kind of magical.



You know what else is magical?  Air conditioning and sleep and strawberry shortcake bars.  Except I'm reading this and  trying to be {eat} healthy and live longer..... suggestions?

Roly+Poly

Stick a fork in me, I'm done.
Oh wait, I have almost 13 weeks to go.
Well, snap.

I get to be crazy+pregnant for the whole of summer.
How did I manage that kind of luck?
I mean, have you seen the weather I'm dealing with?
I need some popsicles.
And a bigger lap.

ideas

Seeking to fill the gaping hole of my institute class....
I'm starting an online scripture-study group blog.
It'll be private for now.
If you'd like to join and read along and participate, email me at readyformycloseupmrdemille@gmail.com
and I will see if I can stay organized enough to send you an invite.

running in sand

This pregnancy is kicking my trash.  I've already gained more weight than I did with Sir O's entire pregnancy. I'm 26 weeks and still nauseous, and I was up all night battling what was probably kidney stones.

Then I "woke" up in the morning to (cute) hollering kids who aren't capable of caring that I haven't one iota of energy left for them.

I really just want to be a functional mom again.  Someday, maybe by December, right?  I was hoping to take Sir O to library story time today, but there is absolutely no way I can even get out of bed, save to refill my 32 oz mug of water for the 18th time and then go cry in the bathroom.

In the meantime, I am praying for some kind of amnesiac fog to settle in my kids' brains and compensate for my many many failings just now.

What Sir O might remember

I realized about a year ago that Sir O had only been to see a temple once, and was less than a year old at the time.  I've been meaning to make the effort to make a special trip with him since this realization.  (Not living 3.5+ hours from a temple makes a world of difference with such good intentions...)  This afternoon Sir O was really struggling finding a way to keep himself occupied that was appropriate for the Sabbath, and so we spontaneously made the trip to the Bountiful Temple grounds.  It worked out perfectly, as Sir O's primary lesson today was on temples.  Granted, we only know that because of the handout he brought home.  His response to every inquiry about what he learned in primary today was, "I can't know".  Despite our best efforts, I don't think we taught him anything he'll remember either, except maybe pointing out the moonstones around the temple, he thought those were cool.  But maybe, just maybe, he'll remember going to see it, period.  That would be enough.

sparklers

Today was not up to my celebratory par, but my pregnant-state-of-self is okay with that.  Someday, I tell you, I will start doing holidays with gusto again.


We did make it to the Kaysville parade.  It was pure madness.  I think I want to boycott all parades with candy. Too many sharks, most of whom are way too old to be acting like that over candy.



We had a nice picnic/bbq lunch with Mr Renn's family.  His poor mom is recovering from rotator cuff surgery, and it all sounds incredibly painful.  It was good to see her for a minute though, and the kids loved being there too (judging by the fit they threw when it was time to leave).

Mr Renn and Sir O took off in the afternoon to join my brother at a demolition derby.  I took the Captain to pick cherries at my grandpa's house.  Which one sounds like more fun to you?  I'm okay with my choice, and it looks like Sir O might have regretted his.



The derby was supposed to have been followed by fireworks, but Sir O had begged Mr Renn to take him home so many times throughout the evening, that they took off before fireworks, and instead got to see (from a distance) every fireworks show along I-15.  I am so completely okay with Sir O not loving seeing cars smashed.  And this year I'm okay with skipping fireworks, putting kids to bed,  and hanging out in my pajamas.  Maybe next year .....

Boys, evermore

Here's my bullet-list of right-now-ness.

• Sir O's first words every morning, "where's the scun-screen?"
• We've realized that the Captain understands every word we say and is capable of running simple 1-step errands.  He's also capable of blatant disobedience.
• Both boys are developing a sunkissed glow this summer.  The captain's hair is getting so light you almost need a filter to look at it.
• Since these boys discovered where the hose and spicket were, it's been impossible to keep their clothes dry.
• Mr Renn's first day in the clinic is today.  I can't remember whether he has 8 patients today or 16, but either way it'll be a big change from 2 a day in school!
• The Captain has started using a cheeser smile to make us laugh.  It works really well; the turkey.
• Sir O has been watching these Grown Up Today vhs tapes from my parents' stash and has memorized every single song on them.  I love love love to hear that boy sing.
• Mr Renn and I just got called into the nursery.  This will be my 7th consecutive year in a primary calling.   Clearly I am not meant to converse with adults... but all told it will be fun for us to do that together.
• My 3rd trimester starts on Sunday.  How did THAT happen?
• I have a whole packet of insurance information and options to swim through this weekend.  Seeing that both boys and I need to see a doctor as soon as possible, I need to not let that one slip between my fingers.  But it feels REALLY good to have real insurance, if you know what I'm saying.
• I am so ridiculously tired.  I really wish I experienced that "feeling better and having more energy" sort of 2nd trimester that I hear of other people having.  I think my boys got the boost of energy that was allotted for me.
• Pace's popsicles are manna from heaven.
• The captain has an ongoing obession with shoes, which is cute, but results in our shoes being found in the wierdest of places, and never easy to find when we need them.
• I finally found the box with our scriptures in it, so I can hopefully this week get my priorites in order.  Hopefully being the key word.

Big Days

My cousin got married yesterday, and I got to make my first bouquet for a real bride.



It is such a huge deal to me to not have to miss family weddings!  I missed at least 5 while we've been in PA, not to mention my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary and both of my parents' 50th birthdays.  I fully intend to indulge myself in a year of not missing anything! (Except possibly my dad's half-sister's wedding.... it's 2 days before my due date!)