Martin Family Adventure

Sitting still....

I have trouble sitting still. I seem to need something to keep me busy whether it's a book to read or something to keep my hands moving. Even when I go down to the lake with Zach and sit on the beach, I bring something along to keep some part of me moving. Yesterday, I brought some felt and beads to work with, but after a while, I realized that I was missing out on some amazing views of my boy doing what he does best - being a free spirit. I put my handwork down and just sat and enjoyed the wonder that is Zach. I love this picture with Zach in the background running along the lake shore. Sometimes I need to remind myself to put stuff down and be willing to sit still and simply watch; to pick up my head and look for the extraordinary in the ordinary.

I took a walk down to the water and found this amazing stone art that was left behind by some creative person. Every little detail had me fascinated. 

This sweet, young couple came down to the lake and sat on the big log that always seems to be in a new place when we arrive at the beach. I couldn't help but think of David and I when we were on our honeymoon and so in love. We sat on beaches like this and sat just like that. This couple were trying to take pictures of themselves and so I asked them if they wanted me to take some for them with their camera. They stood up and posed a few times and then I told them how adorable they looked sitting on the log and asked if they wanted me to take a picture like that. When they were looking through the pictures I took, that was their favorite one. 

As enjoyable as it is to sit on the beach and work on something I love, I'm so glad that I put my work down and looked around to see what other moments of wonder and peace other people were taking in. I'm glad I got to share in some of those moments, as well. 

I couldn't ask for better Sundays this summer

I couldn't ask for better Sundays this summer. They've been absolutely amazing. I've been treasuring each one. The weather has been so delightful. Yesterday, I took my girl-dogs with me on my and Zach's weekly jaunt down to the lake. I love that we only live a two and a half mile drive from our little town beach. When we lived in our old apartment on the main road, we were only a mile and a half farther away but for some reason, we just didn't go down to the lake as often as we do now. I don't think it has to do with the fact that we're a mile and a half closer. I think it has a lot to do with the pace of our life these days. Zach loves to hang out down there and catch his fish, we started adopting dogs when we bought our house four years ago and they love playing in the water, and I've been intentional in finding ways to take moments to breathe, relax, and enjoy the peace around me in settings like this. I've always been fond of nature and being outside, but it's been hard for me in the past to settle down long enough in my physical pace and in my spirit to be able to sit still and enjoy what's going on around me. 

I love watching my dogs play in the water. Their sense of adventure never gets old to me. I was never a dog person until we adopted our own dogs. My girl-dogs are my two best buddies. The adoration goes both ways and we hate being apart. Sometimes Zach and I go to the lake alone and I feel so awful leaving them behind. Yesterday, I took them with me. It makes me laugh to hear them carrying on in the truck as we drive down the road to the beach parking lot. Tovah (the black dog) pants and paces and Willow (the blonde dog) whines and bobs her head up and down, looking for a quick exit from the truck. As soon as the door opens, they're out and gone! I played fetch in the water with them for a while and got them all tuckered out and eventually, they settled down in the grass next to me while I worked on a zine about my grandfather.

Tovah is 4 years old now. We adopted her the same month we moved into our house (August 2008). She was just 15 weeks old at the time and was born at the shelter we adopted her from. Tovah is a Husky/Rottweiler mix and she's been my right-hand dog ever since and I can't imagine my life without this sweetheart. She's so docile and such a "mama's girl."

Willow is 3 years old and is a Husky/White Shepherd mix that we adopted in September of 2009. She was six months old when we brought her home and she set herself up as the Alpha right away. She's my cuddle bug and loves to snuggle. Huskies tend to be "talkers," meaning that they are very vocal in the sense that they act like they're carrying on a conversation. Here's a video that I took of Willow a few months after we brought her home so you can see what I mean about her "talking": Willow asking for pet-pets. I love that she freaks people out with her yellow eyes and her talking when people see her for the first time. I remember having that same feeling when I went to adopt her. I thought that maybe she was growling at me because she didn't like me, but soon found out that it was because she DID like me and wanted to get to know me. When she barks at people, that's when she's cautious. If she talks to people, her butt usually wiggles and that's a good sign. 
I just found another video of Willow talking: Get Down, Willow! 

Zach doesn't wiggle his butt, but he does love to talk to people. Here he is with his catch of minnows from yesterday. He made sure to put some pebbles in from the beach, along with some seaweed. He takes all of this home with him and creates a "habitat" (this is what he calls it) in a 10 gallon tank so the fish have something that looks natural to swim around in. The next day, he takes the fish back to the lake, lets them go, and catches all new fish and creates a whole new habitat for them. 

His sense of wonderment never gets old. :) 

Just another amazing summer Sunday.

Another summer Sunday with the boy-child

Zach loves to catch fish down at the creek or the lake, but it's been almost impossible to get him to use our pool. I think this is only the third time we've been able to talk him into going in the pool this summer. 

When he was two years old, Zach loved the water! My parents had a pool that we would take him into with his little lifejacket on. I remember swimming in the big pool at the state park down the road from my parents' old house and he would run to the edge of the deep end and jump in, completely confident that his lifejacket would protect him and he would pop right back up out of the water. I thought, "We've got ourselves a little fish!" 

The next year, though, he didn't want anything to do with the lake or big pools. He was terrified of them. The most he would do was sit in the little wading pool we put in the backyard and god-forbid that anyone splash him. As he got a little older, his interventionists during the summer would try to coax him into the pool in town. No matter what they offered him or how much encouragement they threw his way, he refused to go past his knees even though he could see the bottom of the pool and know that it wasn't going to be over his head. I don't know what made him transition from being so in love with water to scared of it, but it was a long time until we could finally get him to go past his knees and start learning to be comfortable with it. 

Two years ago, when he was 11, we signed him up for swimming lessons at the town pool. Between the swimming instructor and his interventionists, they were able to get him into the pool and up to his neck in water. That summer, we couldn't keep him out of our pool at home. He loved swimming and was so proud of his doggy paddle. 

When the fall and winter came around, he was so bummed that he couldn't go in the pool so his personal care worker would bring him to the fitness club a few towns over to use their pool. I wish that I had a picture of the first time he put his head under water. We had gone to Rochester, NY in May of 2011 and while I was sitting at the craft fair I was part of, David and the kids were in the pool at the hotel. Zach was so excited that he put his head under water. He said he did it three times!

Last year, he wasn't interested at all again. He did his swimming lessons, but wouldn't get into the pool at home. He was content just to wade in the lake and catch fish. This year started out the same. He went in to cool off once on his own and then again last week when he was really sweaty and I suggested he go in. Today, he asked me for a pair of shorts so that he could go in the pool with David. That really surprised me. I don't know if David suggested it or if Zach thought of it on his own, but it was nice to see him using AND enjoying his time in the pool today. 

Look how much bigger he's gotten in two year's time! And how long his hair is now!

He wanted to show me how he could go under water. He's worked really hard at this during his swimming lessons this year. In fact, he's been swimming in the 12-foot deep end of the pool without lifejacket!

Here he was showing us how he swims at the town pool. He's been watching the swimming competitions from the Olympics the past couple of days and is enamored by them. What really took his breath away was watching the synchronized diving tonight. That just blew his mind. 

I really think that this summer with Girly being away and Zach being at home has been good for both of the kids. They've had a chance to do things apart from each other and I can see a lot of growth in Zach and even growth in Girly through the letters she's written home. I love the time that Zach and I have gotten to spend together as just the two of us. Sundays are definitely my favorite day with him. We hang out at the lake and talk about all sorts of things. I think I learn more from him than I could ever impart to him. We did do our lake jaunt this afternoon, too, but I'll put those pictures in another post.

Living with intention - letting go of the black and white

Since I posted about my re-do every hour, I have to admit that I've struggled quite a bit.  Of course, I completely expected that because I don't assume to think that I can change my habits and an eating disorder overnight. I've surprised myself in not feeling overwhelmingly guilty when I stumble. I fully expect this to be fleeting as I make changes in my eating habits and confront my Binge Eating Disorder. I think that going into it with this in mind has given me the ability to see the grays and not just the black and white. I know that this will also be fleeting and fluid, going back and forth until I can master it or at least grasp a hold of it while trying to master it. 

One of the most important things I've learned from therapy over the past year is to live with more intention. I've been able to do this in other parts of my life and so this gives me hope that I can do this when it comes to making decisions about what I put in my mouth, what I do with my thought patterns, etc. Some areas of my life have been so easy to incorporate this practice into, but I know this one will be a little harder to do. However, I'm determined to do it. 

My friend, Anna, posted a comment on my blog that has stuck with me the past few days. 

"But it's harder with food. With smoking, it's almost easier because you can stop. be done. be a non-smoker. But you can never be a non-eater, so the key is learning how to become a moderate eater. Not a strict dieter. Not an obsessive dieter. But someone who can eat healthy foods that are nutritious, in moderate portions... and who occasionally, when appropriate... also partakes in food celebrations without binging or feeling defined by them. For instance, piece of funnel cake at a carnival is normal. A chocolate ice cream cone with your grandpa is special. It seems simple, but there's so much fight involved. Fighting against what is comfortable is UNCOMFORTABLE. And is harder than anyone who has not had to do it could possibly understand. It involves emotional pain."

Moderation is something I've never been good at with food. For so long, I've been such a "black and white" type of person when it comes to how I view food and eating. I actually didn't realize this until I started seeing my therapist that specializes in eating disorders. I'd always thought of myself as someone that could be flexible and see the gray. it wasn't until I started to confront my BED that I saw this part of my character for what it really was; inflexible. This really is one of the few parts of my life where I am "black and white." For the most part, I AM flexible. I've learned to be gentle with myself, just not in the area of food. That's another thing I'm determined to work on. 

Recently, David said I should reward myself with something when I reach my goal weight. His suggestion was a Jack Russell Terrier. I've wanted a Jack for a very long time, but we have three dogs and two cats already. I really can't see us adding another dog to the mix in the next five or so years. He also suggested getting a tattoo to symbolize this journey. I can never justify the money for another tattoo. I recently got my second tattoo, but only because my sister bought me a gift certificate to the tattoo studio as a gift. The more and more I thought about it, I kept finding myself going back to a dream that I've had since I was 16 years old and something that got put on the back shelf when I found myself  struggling with my eating habits. It would symbolize a journey in a way that few rewards could. I still want to walk across the country. I would love for THIS to be my reward. 

I'm a big quote collector and this one came in my inbox yesterday, but I didn't open it up until I started writing this post. I find it very timely and appropriate:

"Watch your way then, as a cautious traveler; and don't be gazing at that mountain or river in the distance, and saying, "How shall I ever get over them?" 

Just keep to the present little inch that is before you. 

The mountain and the river can only be passed in the same way; and, when you come to them, you will come to the light and strength that belong to them."
  
~Mary Ann Kelty, 1789-1873

Speaking of living with intention, I really should be getting more sleep. On that note, I must stop all this rambling and get myself to bed. 

Creative days in my studio

I have a friend visiting for the week and it's coming to an end tomorrow. We've been having a lot of fun creating with some awesome crafting supplies that another friend, Karen, brought over and gave to me. I've worked with felt for quite some time now, but I've never done needle felting and wanted to try it. Karen gave me a ton of stuff for needle felting and so Angel and I have been having a blast making little creations and poking ourselves with the felting needles (that part hasn't been so fun). We were up until 1:30 am the other night working on our projects. We were having too much fun and the time got away from us!

Here's the little orange kitty that I made. He reminds me of my Ozzy kitty. You can't see it in the picture, but he has a sweet white belly underneath. 

He even has a collar with a big red heart on it. 

This is supposed to be a barred owl, but I think he turned out to look more like a penguin. Either way, he's so soft and cute. 

And then there's my gnome. I love gnomes and would love to have a bunch of them in my garden some day. 

As much as I try not to go with the trends, I really love all the cute owl stuff that I see. I made this little guy out of beautiful moss green felt roving. 

It's a gray, rainy day so it's perfect for staying inside and working on projects in my studio. I'll have some new stuff up on my Etsy shop over the weekend so stay tuned for more updates. 

A re-do every hour - I can start anew

I had one of those moments last night when I told myself that today would be different. Today would be the start of a "new me." After a day of grazing, and the subsequent guilt, I decided that things would change. I would wake up with a new view and determination that I could do this without the bariatric surgery. I didn't want to be dependent on waiting for a yes or a no from the bariatric center.

I know the dietician told me to maintain my weight so that I didn't disqualify myself for the procedure but after thinking about it, it seems like such a contradition of what I'm trying to do.  If I have to make changes for the surgery and my insurance can veto their decision to pay even hours before the surgery, then where will I be? Will I throw all that hard work away and go back to my compulsive binge eating again?

So I went to sleep with the decision that today, I'll start working on those changes now and do the best I can. It's going to be a struggle either way - with or without the knowledge of an impending surgery. 

I'm reminding myself that there are people that have overcome BED without having the option of bariatric surgery. I have a good support group and my therapists are here to support me and help me to overcome the mind block. I'm not going to put the bariatric surgery on the back shelf. I'll leave that option open and continue with the program and see where that takes me. I can always back out if I feel that I can do this without it. I have the feeling that I haven't exhausted all the other options out there for me that don't include surgery so I'm going to pursue those and try my damndest. 

I know that I'm going to have some days that I feel like a failure, but one of my therapists told me that I should view my day as a failure just because I stumble. I should take it as one hour at a time. There's a new opportunity each hour to start over. I like that approach. I think I can do that. She said I should also find something that I can do that will signify a new start. It can be a prayer, a yoga pose, writing an affirmation down, etc. This all sounds very doable for me. I'm going to start today.

Another lazy summer Sunday

Just another lazy summer afternoon in Ferrisburg. I love the summertime. One of my favorite things to do is go down to the town beach and sit in the shade with my drawing pens and a blank sheet of paper, and watch my boy-child do what he loves most - search for fish or bugs. Heading down to the beach (which is only two and a half miles from our house) is a nice break from everything that keeps me busy at home. Sometimes I don't even open up my binder to draw. Sometimes I just sit and watch what goes on around me. People come down to the lake with their dogs, kids, boats, and friends. I listen to the conversations going on around me. I smile as I watch little ones playing in the water and remember what it was like when my kids were that small. I hold my breath as I listen to kids asking Zach what he's catching and if they can see it. I hold my breath because I never know what's going to come out of his mouth and I wonder if it's going to be the F-word or some other word that parents don't want their kids to repeat. I breathe a sigh of relief when he has a conversation without "colorful words" and everyone moves on to something different. I exclaim, "Good job, Buddy!" when Zach tells me he caught another fish, as he makes sure to tell me every time he catches one. 

Today, there was a family that came down to the lake and Zach was getting frustrated that the fish were swimming away too quickly for him to catch them and he let loose with the F-word. I had to remind him to watch the language as there were other kids around. The parents looked over at me with a look of shock and I just went back to my drawing. I've gotten used to the reaction and I no longer feel the need to explain or apologize. I just go about my business and let Zach go about his. 

Zach was quite pleased with the amount of minnows he caught. He and I filled up one of his fish tanks with water and  put the minnows in. Tomorrow, he'll catch them all over again in his tank and we'll bring them back to the lake. It's strictly "catch and release." He thanked me about 4 or 5 times on the way home, "Mom, thanks for taking me to catch fish at Town Beach." "You're welcome, Zach." It's the same routine over and over again, always in an uneven number. 

And here's what I worked on today while sitting on the beach:

It's a new zine I'm working on about the weekly whimsical adventures that I have with my 83-year old grandfather. I had so much fun putting the first zine together that I thought it would be a great way to record all the good times Gramps and I have on our outings. 

Part 12 - You know it's time to lose weight when you break the toilet seat

This is the twelth part in a series, CLICK HERE to start at Part 1.

 

If you remember, I started on my medication for acute depression and anxiety on July 25, 2009. I didn't share any of this with David because I didn't need the stress of listening to how he felt about it. While I didn't tell him about taking the meds, I also didn't hide the fact that I was taking them. The bottle of meds was right in the front of the medicine cabinet and right next to his bottle of vitamins, so he could see them at any time. I figured this was the easiest way to go about it for the time being. If he happened to see them and ask me about it, that would be the best timing. I decided that the opportunity would present itself when the timing was right. 

That timing came at the end of September. A dear friend of mine was moving back to Vermont from the Philadelphia area and she needed help with packing and driving the moving truck. I made myself available to be her helper and headed to PA via Amtrak train. It was a long trip down (around 11 hours), but a pleasant one as I had brought a book to read and my daughter's iPod with great music to listen to. On one part of the trip, I was privileged to sit next to a fascinating older woman that had great stories to tell. For the rest of the trip, I was happy to have the seat to myself so I could get lost in reading the biography of Rita Marley and her life with Bob Marley. 

Just 5 minutes before pulling into the Philadelphia train station, I got a call from David on my cell phone. He said that he was cleaning off the desk in our room and found a paper from the pharmacy for Celexa and read that it was an anti-depressant. He wanted to know who it was for and I told him it was mine. 

David: They're yours? You're on anti-depressants? How long have you been on them?

Me: Yes, they're mine and I've been on them since July. 

David: Why didn't you tell me?

Me: And what would you have said if I told you?

David: I know....you're right. 

Me: You said yourself that you've noticed a big change in me and that I've really blossomed. Why do you think that change happened so quickly? If I had told you that I was on meds, you would have argued with me about it and discouraged me. I needed to take care of ME and get myself better for the sake of all of us. I didn't need the negativity. 

David: I know. I'm so sorry. Is your depression because of me? Is it my fault? I try to be a good husband and father. I'm so sorry if I've fallen short. I love you so much and I'm so sorry. 

Me: It's no one's fault, it's just how my reality has been and I needed to get better so that we could ALL be better. 

 

And with that, he began to cry on the other end of the phone and I had some tears in my own eyes, though I smiled through the whole thing. This was a definite breakthrough and one that we both needed badly. 

 

David: I'm so sorry. I'll try to be better and different. I love you. 

Me: I know you do. You're a great huband and father, but I need you to be supportive of this decision. I never hid any of this from you, it was there in plain sight. The paper on the desk, the bottle next to your vitamins....but you needed to know in the right timing and apparently, this is it. I hope this isn't a life-long thing, but if it is, then you need to support that, too. 

David: I will be. I hate that you're so far away from me right now. We have so much to talk about. I know you'll be home tomorrow, but I wish you were home right now. 

Me: We'll talk all about it when I get home. In the meantime, my train is pulling into the station, so I need to get going. We can talk on the phone later. I love you!

David: I love you, too. So much!

 

I hung up and got off the phone and met up with my friend, Anna (not the one that I was helping to move), and we headed off to a little restaurant to chat and get a bite to eat. As we were walking there, I told Anna about the phone call I'd just gotten. Anna knew that I had started taking the meds and how David had felt about it. It was so nice to connect with someone that knew what I was going through and who could give me some encouragement.

While we were sitting outside on the restaurant patio, my phone rang again. It was nearing 11 pm and it was David. He said he was heading off to bed and that he wanted to tell me again that he loved me and that he was so sorry if he was the cause of any of my depression. I assured him that everything was okay and that I loved him, too. He was all choked up again on the phone and told me that he couldn't wait until I got home. We said goodnight and hung up.

This was a discussion that I had been dreading with him since the day I popped that first pill. I didn't even tell him I had gone to the doctor for a diagnosis. I was convinced then more than ever that the way he found out was truly meant to happen that way. I'm glad I was gone when he discovered everything. I feel that it gave him the opportunity to process it all before I got home and allowed us both to have some distance. I was able to go home knowing that the subject had been approached and we'd each have had time to think about what we were going to say to each other. This was a great opportunity for us to talk about it with the right intentions. I wouldn't be on the defensive and he would have time to think about my reasons for doing this. 

My psych eval at the bariatrics center

On Tuesday, I went to my first official appointment at the Bariatrics Center. This was to meet with the program psychologist for an inital psych evaluation. The appointment did not go as I had hoped and I left feeling a bit defeated. 

The center pyschologist was very sterile and stand-offish. I guess I've been spoiled by my two therapists that I see. Both of them are very approachable and have a nice "bed side manner" (for lack of a better term). The center pysch gave me a quick run down of what the meeting's purpose was and then ran down her list of questions while typing the answers into her computer. There was no warmth to her at all. In between questions, there was awkward silence as she looked at her computer and then back to the paperwork that I had done before the appointment. It was extremely uncomfortable. I felt like I was sitting in front of the judge and jury all wrapped up in one person. 

The questions were pretty straight forward: what was your lightest/heaviest adult weight, do you smoke, do you drink, do you do street drugs (no, no, and no), why are you pursuing surgery, how do you think this will alter your life, etc. 

When I talked about my past struggles and my current BED, the feedback that I got was pretty discouraging. She talked about the fact that I would have to overcome that in order to get things on track before the surgery and if I haven't been successful in doing that now, how did I think I was going to be able to do it before the surgery. That got me really irritated. I understand all of these things. I've been reading up on the different types of bariatric surgery for two years so I'm not ignorant about any of it. The part that really set me off inside was when she asked how I thought I could get on track with the possibility of surgery in the future but I couldn't without the surgery in the future. How do I even answer those questions? So much of this process is psychological- the surgery and the BED. 

The upside to this appointment was that the center psych wants to consult with both of my therapists so that she can get a better picture of who I am and how they feel about the surgery. I realize she can't get to know me well in an hour's time and I know that my therapists are very supportive so being able to talk with them will hopefully give her a more comprehensive view of me. 

I walked out of the appointment feeling discouraged, defeated, and like it was a waste of my time. I've never been in a room with a therapist and felt so....not sure of the word.....invalidated, maybe? I guess I wanted to be seen as someone that was looking for a tool and not a quick fix and I didn't get that feeling from the psychologist. Maybe that's just her default mode because she sees a lot of people in her office that expect they don't have to make any changes and think that the surgery will fix everything. I'm not one of those people so when I tried to make that clear, I didn't get any indication from her that she understood or that she believed me. That was disheartening. I felt like I completely blew the whole evaluation. 

Since that appointment, I've tried to distance myself from her demeanor and lack of warmth and have told myself that maybe that's just how she is and I'm over-interpreting it all. I have a wonderful group of friends and family that support me and so I'm sitting tight until the center psych gets back to me after she's talked to my therapists. 

Yesterday with my Grandpa

If you saw this sweet older gentleman (that looks a lot like a human version of Papa Smurf), wouldn't you want to go for a walk with him or take him home to dote over? 

This is my Grandpa. He's 83 years old and has a little trouble with his memory and needs some help here and there since he no longer drives. I have the privilege of spending a day a week with him taking him to his appointments, going out for lunch, doing grocery runs, and anything else we dream up. 

He has a childlike wonder of nature and chocolate ice cream that I find so endearing. I count it a blessing to have these days with my Gramps.

After his doctor's appointment, he asked me if I wanted to go to the ice cream parlor. I didn't even realize there was one close by. This man loves chocolate ice cream unlike anything I've seen before. I've never even seen a child that loves ice cream as much as he does. We drove over and he ordered a 4-scoop cone that he had to put into a dish because we were afraid it was going to topple. I found it hilarious that he kept adding more ice cream from the dish to the cone to keep it going.

There was no one else in the parlor....it seems we came at the right time. He said that the place is usually overflowing with people. We sat in the air conditioned foyer and had a friendly debate over which ice cream was better - his chocolate or my peanut butter fudge. Neither of us was going to budge so we agreed to disagree. 

After we had our ice cream, he asked if I wanted to see Colchester Pond. I'd never been there before but he's talked about how lovely it was in the past and we were close by so I said, "Why not?" We ended up taking the "scenic route," which is short-hand for "drive 20 minutes on five different roads to go to a place that we should have found in 5 minutes." Poor Gramps, he had trouble remembering which roads I needed to take even though he'd directed my parents there the day before without one missed turn. 

He felt really bad about having me take the "long way around," and even said, "I didn't think I'd ever get this dumb." I told him that he's not dumb, he just has a little trouble remembering every now and then. I also told him that it was such a pretty drive and it was nice to spend the time together. That made him feel less "dumb." 

He is such a lover of nature and I caught him picking some wildflowers....

...which he put in his shirt pocket as a faux boutonniere. It went well with his choice of shirt. He said he was going to pick some for me but it started sprinkling at that moment and the sky looked like it could open up at any minute so we headed back to the truck. 

This was one of my favorite outings with Grandpa so far. He's in his natural element when he's outside. I definitely think that my son, Zach, gets a lot of his love for nature from my grandfather.

On my way home, the sky DID open up and the power throughout South Burlington and Shelburne blew out when a huge lightning strike came down. All of the traffic lights were dark right at rush hour. Fortunately people were courteous and treating intersections as if they were 4-way stops without lights and taking turns, but it was a long drive home. 

And now it's time for me to stick my nose in my textbook and get some homework done. Hope you all have a wonderful Wednesday!